Fury Saga              by: Darkside

 

Soul Mates         © Darkside Oct 2000

WARNING: This story contains acts of graphic violence and acts of a sexual nature. Do not read if you are at all offended by such material, delete it from your disk now and read no further. This story should not be read by anyone under the age of eighteen so if this is you please do not proceed.

After six years of planning and writing, the Fury saga is now complete. If you wondered why there’s been no new Darkside stories for 16 months it’s because it’s taken me that long to write this; so enjoy.

More thanks than I can say go to Vickie Tern who, it’s safe to say is the main reason why I continued on. Vickie was up until 3am proofing this for me, so any errors are mine for working her too hard.

Please, please please take the time to let me know what you think (good, bad and suggestions are welcome). You giving me feedback is the only payment I get for writing.

You will need to have read the rest of the saga to fully understand what is going on here.

The story is meant to be read in conjunction with streaming real audio and hyperlinks. So please go to http://www.go.to/furysaga if you want that version.

Cue intro music, find a comfy chair and settle down to read the final part of the fury saga.

http://www.angelfire.com/scifi/furysaga/soulmates.ram

This time the battlefield is no longer the body, it’s the soul.

Comments to darkside_nym@hotmail.com

 

Soul Mates             by: Darkside 

Part 8a

 

‘There is a greater darkness than the one we fight. It is the darkness of the soul that has lost its way. The war we fight is not against powers and principalities. It is against chaos and despair! Greater than the death of flesh is the death of hope, the death of dreams. Against this peril we can never surrender. The future is all around us, waiting in moments of transition to be born in moments of revelation. No one knows the shape of that future or where it will take us. We know only that it is always born in pain."

                                                                                                    J Michael Straczynski

Prologue.

The showers that had been threatening that morning had now developed into a full scale thunderstorm, a fact that did not deter the two women and a man standing near an open graveside. The smaller of the two women clasped hold of the man’s hand and put her head on his shoulder. The other woman towered above them both, her blonde hair tied back into a ponytail and she was holding a large golfing style umbrella, which was doing it’s best to keep the cortege dry.

From across the other side of the graveyard a man dressed in a brown raincoat looked on at the proceedings thru his miniature binoculars. The man brushed away a tear as he saw the other man slowly stoop down and place a single red rose into the open grave. The two women repeated the gesture and then drew each other into a comforting embrace.

A cell phone inside the man’s coat pocket interrupted his thoughts and he quickly reached inside to answer it, "Hello?"

"Friday, this is Heinlein are you ready to proceed?"

"Can I just have a few more minutes?" the man asked.

"You’re needed to pick up the merchandise now."

"Ok will do, Heinlein?"

"Yes Friday?"

"You’re a bastard!" the man said bitterly and disconnected the call. Placing the cell phone back in his pocket the man gave another sigh. ‘Only fifteen more years to go’, he thought. But then, what’s fifteen years when you have at least another century.

o—o—o—

 

Fifteen Years Later.

A young girl sat sobbing in her room. Her long auburn hair was in disarray and swept in front of her face. Still crying, the girl rubbed her eyes and flopped back onto the bed.

A few minutes later there was a knock at the door. "Elizabeth, can I come in?" a female voice asked.

"If you have to mom," Elizabeth replied with an edge of sarcasm.

The door opened and in walked a woman of about forty. She had pale olive brown skin, deep brown eyes and her silky long black hair was tied back into an elegant ponytail. She was greeted by a cold, hard stare from the girl’s blue/gray eyes. The ferocity of the stare sent shivers down the woman’s spine, it was a stare that brought back so many horrific memories. Composing herself, she sat down by the bed and put a motherly hand on the girl’s leg. The women then started to talk. Her voice was full of concern and tenderness, "Elizabeth, we thought you had the right to know. We were waiting for the chance to tell you. We’re just sorry you just had to find out like this."

"When were you going to tell me? When I was about to get married? When I was fifty? I mean being an identical copy of one of the most feared women of the last century isn’t something you happen to drop into a mother-daughter chat, is it!" Elizabeth gave her mother another soul piercing stare.

"Actually we had decided that eighteen was the best age, sooner, if you were up to knowing. I guess fifteen isn’t a age bad to find out either. The point is, is we love you no matter who you are. It doesn’t matter to me, your dad, Auntie Cathline and to anyone who knows you or us. The only people who would care are those who might like to make a sensational story and some dirty money out of it. The rest of the world has no idea who you are and they never will, I promise."

"If I can suss it out someone else can, and then where would that leave me? I’d be imprisoned right away, for the good of society. Now I know why you make me take my medicine every day. I always thought it was to stop my asthma. I don’t even have asthma so it turns out. It’s not asthma medicine is it? It’s Olanzapine. That’s not an asthma medicine! It’s for controlling schizophrenia. That’s how I found out. I saw the prescription!" Elizabeth cried.

Elizabeth heard a set of footsteps walking towards the door.

That’ll be Dad she thought, "Come in Dad."

A tall man with blonde hair, streaked with gray strode in. "Hello little mite’ he said softly.

"Don’t you little mite me! I know what you and mom kept from me! I thought you loved me. I thought you cared for me! I hate you and if you think I’m taking any more medicine ever..." Elizabeth brushed her mom’s hand away from her leg and rose, ready to storm out of the room.

Her dad’s hand reached out, grabbed her arm and gently sat her back down on the bed again. He then sat down beside her and started to speak, "When we found out your mom was pregnant and the circumstances in which you came to be we had a choice."

"But she’s not my real mom is she! The ‘hell bitch’ is isn’t she?"

Elizabeth spat the words at her father.

"She’s your biological mother, true. But she died a long time ago. She didn’t nurse you, bring you into the world, read you stories in the middle of the night when you got scared. Dr Bexley is maybe who you are genetically, but you’re not her. I knew her even before your mother did and you are nothing like her. Please to God don’t ever think you are capable of what she did, because you’re not and never will be!"

"Is that why you lied to me about my asthma medicine?

Quickly changing the subject Elizabeth’s mother continued, "As I was saying we had a decision to make. I either carried you to term or had an abortion. Even though you weren’t biologically mine I loved you as though you were and I still do. You knew where you came from, we told you that years ago"

Elizabeth’s tone softened, "I can’t call you mom can I? You told me I was a clone of dad, not a clone of HER. Is that why you had John, so that you could have a child of your own? You couldn’t have known this from the start. Dr Bexley would never have told you. When did you find out?"

"I am your mom. And as for John that’s just plain stupid. We love both of you just the same. We found out about ten years ago. As you know you get record scores on your SAT’s, have a reading age ten years above your actual one, and have an IQ of above 160. Dr Bexley told us that you were Dad’s clone and we believed her. However since Dr Bexley’s transformation drug left the brain intact and only altered the body then there was no way you could have gotten those scores if she was telling the truth. We took you in for tests and found out that our suspicions were correct."

Elizabeth’s eyes welled up with tears once more, "That I’m the clone of one of the most terrifying women of the 20^th century. Kat, why didn’t you tell me earlier? Am I an exact clone? I read that Dr Bexley had a genetic flaw in her brain that under certain circumstances caused extreme psychopathic and homicidal tendencies. Do I have that? Is that why you gave me Olanzapine?"

Kat nodded, "I’m still your mom, we love you very deeply and just as much as we love John. Yes you do have the same flaw and yes that’s why we give you Olanzapine, just in case."

o—o—o—

Five Years Later.

He was in the middle of a conversation when he saw her, such was the effect of her on him that he immediately forgot what he was talking about and watched her walk into the biological sciences faculty. The cut of her skirt-pants was perfect and allowed him to appreciate her slender and toned body as she passed by.

"Hey Mark, did you know your PDA’s crashed?"

"Sorry?" Mark said, his mind still on this mysterious woman he’d just seen.

"You were way out there guy. I mean totally Jacko’d out," Wills said.

Mark smiled a knowing smile back at Wills. They’d been friends since kindergarten. By now they each knew the others every whim, and foible, "I’ve never seen you look at a woman like that. Sure looks as though you’ve got it bad," Wills continued.

"Got what bad?" Mark answered defensively.

Wills gave a grin and shrugged, "Never mind. You better reboot your PDA, otherwise you’ll lose the essay we were working on."

Mark flipped the small, oval shaped plastic object over and quickly depressed the CTRL-ALT and DELETE buttons on the side. He remembered his Dad telling him about the ‘old days’ of QWERTY keyboards, mice and such like paraphernalia. Standards died hard though and now the only remains of the ‘old days were these three discrete red buttons. A few seconds later and the Sony-Micro-Sun-Paq logo appeared on the screen and the PDA was ready for work again.

"Better check that essay," Wills stated.

"Who was that?" Mark asked, still distracted by the memory of the girl.

"Mark?" Wills queried.

"Sorry," Mark said and spoke to his PDA

"PDA, verify contents of memory"

After a few seconds A dulcet female voice replied, "Everything’s intact Mark. Do you want to backup your data?"

"PDA, Sure, how long till my next lecture?"

The PDA’s voice replied, "Mark, your next lecture is in 10 minutes. From your current location it will take you 15 minutes to get there. Do you want to mail the lecturer stating a reason for your lateness?"

"Shit!" Marked exclaimed and then added, "PDA Don’t bother, I’ll make it."

"See ya after hours?" Wills asked.

"Same place same time," Mark had time to call as he began to sprint to his next lecture.

o—o—o—

The woman who had been Mark’s focus of attention sat down at large, fake mahogany desk. Hunting around in her purse, she pulled out a sleeker, more expensive looking version of Mark’s PDA and switched it on.

A female voice, a smooth as a nightingale’s song spoke out from the PDA, "Good afternoon Anne, What can I do for you?"

"PDA, download the contents of the United Nations Marine Biology reports on the Coral reefs around the Maldives for the years 1995 until current day. Also give me status reports on the revised Human Genome projects, post Fury Directive til current day."

Anne paused, waiting for the PDA to catch up. Although equipped with a terabyte molecular storage datacard it still took a few seconds to store information. A few seconds later the PDA replied, "Done."

"Ok. PDA, show me the status of my bank account, screen only, apply private code 249 modulus 69. Password is, " Anne paused for a few moments before typing the word ‘Phoenix’ into the PDA’s virtual keyboard.

The PDA flashed a large seven figure sum on screen. Anne nodded in approval and then added, "PDA, show bank account status private code 148 modulus 63. Password is," Anne typed in the word ‘daughter’

"Anne, your current bank account is one hundred and three dollars and twenty four cents," The PDA replied.

"Thank’s. PDA display contents of the reports you just downloaded."

Anne sat back on her chair and started to read.

o—o—o—

Mark’s tutorial dragged on forever; his mind was still on the girl he’d just seen walk into the faculty building. Even though his grades were borderline at best and this close to the end of his Ph.D. he needed spectacular grades in order to even scrape a pass. However, at this point in time none of this bothered him. The girl going into the faculty building was all that mattered. Mark day dreamed about the girl, how her hair fell in perfect formation onto her shoulders, how her shape was contoured by her skirt-pants. In his mind the girl performed a delicate pirouette, showing every inch of her perfect form. He could imagine running his fingers thru her blonde hair, the smell of her perfume and most pleasing of all the sound of her voice. It was like music from the gods. If Helen of Troy could speak it would be like this. His mind moved deeper into his fantasy. She would, he decided be like an iron fist in an ever so soft velvet glove. She would be feminine, with all the little girl vulnerabilities but have a steel backbone. She would be like the willow delicate, supple but unbreakable in the strongest wind. She would be his shelter in the storm and he, like the oak would be hers.

Still in his dream world Mark tried out various conversations with her, examining each permutation in meticulous detail. They ranged from a simple ‘hi’ in a corridor to flowers to her dorm, with him dressed as a delivery clown. The way to her heart, he decided was to make her laugh, because her laugh would ensnare his heart and never let go.

The sound of chairs being moved backwards woke him from his daydream, the tutorial was over already and he hadn’t listened to a word! Hopefully his PDA had got enough storage space to record it and he could get the gist of it. Quickly packing up his stuff and after making a quick excuse to Wills he sprinted off to the library. She should still be there, she had to!

Breathless he bolted into the library, much to the disdain of the librarian and looked around. She was nowhere to be seen. He tried to look interested in the rows of books as if searching for a vital fragment of information but in reality he was scanning the mostly empty tables for a glimpse of her. A few minutes later, his hopes shattered and his heart in pieces he walked out of the library. She was gone!

Mark tried his best to hide his disappointment at not seeing the girl again. His pride wouldn’t let him play the lovesick teenager and go to the girls dorm and ask about her but try as he might he couldn’t get the girl out of his mind. He thought about going back into the library to ask around but he’d promised Wills he’d go and check out the latest Kweepa and Rooney movie and besides, he was due to go on a field trip to Egypt for a couple of weeks tomorrow. Still, he thought there was plenty of semester left to find her and it’d wait until he got back.

o—o—o—

"Here take a flyer miss," a well groomed young man pointed his PDA at the object of Mark’s daydreams. There was a small beep and the man moved onto his next target.

The woman wished that somebody would invent an advertising bypass function in a PDA but even her top of the range model wasn’t immune to online adverts and generally annoying commercials. Reluctantly she looked down at the flyer that had been placed in her PDA. The sight of it made her sick, she hated cults. Especially this one, this one gave her the creeps and chilled her to the bone.

The flyer said "

She was the most misunderstood woman of the 20^th century.

Her self sacrifice and compassion is a lesson to us all.

She gave up her one true love to show us how to love.

Her life was a lesson on how to forgive and obtain forgiveness.

Do you want to learn to love? Do you want to learn to forgive? Do you need forgiveness and inner peace?

If the answer is yes please call ‘The Children of Bexley’

One person CAN make a difference.

http://www.come.to/children-of-bexley"

If she could have she would have torn the flyer up and thrown it to the four winds but instead she deleted from her PDA, gave a deep sad sigh and walked back to her dorm.

Sinking down onto her bed she thought back to the flyer. Seeing it upset her more than she let on. Why did these people insist on latching onto a woman who had been dead nearly thirty years? Why couldn’t they find another 20^th century woman to latch onto, Mother Theresa, Princess Diana, Anne Frank, just anyone but Dr Elizabeth Bexley. Part of her wanted to attend one of their meetings, to prove them wrong, to correct the error of their ways, but deep down she knew it would be a futile gesture. Anyway she had larger things to attend to, like her upcoming move to England. Things were nearly ready and the timetable had just been finalized. She would spend the first two years of her doctorate in England and finish her final year back in the USA. With no family ties, such a move was a no-brainer. Wearily she picked up her PDA and started to read. ‘The last thirty years has seen a dramatic reduction in the coral surrounding the Maldives. It was determined back in the 1970’s that coral is the indicator to the ecological health of the Ocean. Such a decline can only mean that the environmental death of the Indian Ocean is less than sixty years away. This paper will outline the rationale behind this statement’.

Unable to concentrate further she put the PDA down on the bed, closed her eyes and dreamt of happier days to come. The trip to England was two days away and she still had a lot to do.

o—o—o—

"And this will be your room, Miss Stephens," A small matronly woman opened a large wooden door and gestured inside.

Elizabeth walked into the room called ,"lights," and was a little surprised that the lights didn’t slowly come on.

"Oh didn’t I mention, we don’t have voice activated appliances here. Here just use the switch," the women gestured to a small switch on the wall and as if to demonstrate her point flicked it on.

"Switch? How quaint," Elizabeth said under her breath. The room was how she expected a dorm at Cambridge to be. All old world, dark wood and musty. Bookcases lined the wall, an old fireplace with a sooty white marble hearth was against one wall. The doors leading into the other rooms had a used look about them and the green carpet had seen better days. The only clue that this was now the 21^st century was a Sony-Nintendo picture screen on the far wall, apart from that the date could have been anytime from the last two hundred years.

"If you follow me I’ll show you to your room," the woman said, pointing to one of the doors.

"This has got two bedrooms?" Elizabeth queried.

"Didn’t your mother mention, you’re going to have a roommate."

Elizabeth frowned, the last thing she needed was some prissy English girl getting in the way. Still at least she was here, on her own and about to embark on her greatest challenge to date. Elizabeth said none of this, only "No she didn’t but I’m sure it’ll be fine. Do you know her name?"

The woman gave a shrug, "No, All I know is that she’s from London."

"Which London, old or new?" Elizabeth queried.

"New I think. It’s all the same place to me dear."

Elizabeth was already getting bored with inane British conversation and decided to make her excuses. "If you don’t mind I’ve had a long trip and could really do with a shower and some time to unpack. Do I need to sign in or anything?"

"No that’s fine. I hope you’ve brought some warm clothes with you, it talks about being chilly tonight," the woman said, not really getting the message.

"I’ll be fine," Elizabeth replied.

"I hope so. This is nothing like living on that Island of yours is it? Mind you, I do feel jealous of you, y’know. With your parents being so famous n all. I wanted to be famous, did I ever tell you..."

Elizabeth desperately wanted to stop the conversation and imagined reaching down the woman’s throat and ripping her tongue out. Instead, she smiled sweetly and replied, "I’m sorry I really am very tired. I’m sure we’ll get chance to talk some more."

"Oh that would be nice, I always cook scones on Friday and you’re welcome to join me."

Elizabeth nodded and wondered what ripping out someone’s tongue would feel like , "That’d be nice. Goodbye."

"Cheerio, nice to meet you, " the woman said, and closed the door behind her.

Taking a deep breath Elizabeth walked into her room and in spite of herself flopped down onto the bed and fell asleep.

Elizabeth was awakened an indeterminate time later by someone hammering on the door. Groggily she stretched out, swung her legs off the bed and walked towards the door. It wasn’t until she had got closer she heard a male voice call out "Hey Kiddo, I know you’re in there. What’s up sleepy head, the English weather got you down already?" The voice was followed by another staccato series of loud bangs.

Elizabeth groaned inwardly, but decided to leave the comment for when she opened the door. She wondered what kind of face would best suit the moment and decided nonchalant disdain would send the right kind of message. With all necessary measures in place she opened the door.

Standing in front of her was a tall, olive skinned man with deep brown eyes, raven black hair, and a confident looking grin on his face. He was wearing the latest Beckham-Kline shirt with its wide collar and triple breasted pockets and she noted the now traditional Neo-UV sunglasses poking out of one of the pockets.

"Hi Kiddo. Pleased to see me?" the man’s rich, deep voice asked. After the question the man’s eyes gave a mischievous twinkle and he broke out into a broad disarming smile. The bright white teeth showing in start contrast to the dark olive skin.

Elizabeth couldn’t help but smile. He ALWAYS did that to her. She’d get all wound up, ready to unleash some devastating put down; but when she tried to launch it, it just died somehow. All she could manage to say was "Oh Hi it’s you. You on your own?"

The man gave another knowing smile. "Who else calls you kiddo? Mom’s here as well, she just parking the car."

Elizabeth tried her best to emulate the disarming smile, but she knew she couldn’t really pull it off. "And you can cut the kiddo crap out as well. You’re only four months older than me anyhow. You’d better come in. I’ve not had chance to unpack yet so I can’t offer you much in the way of a drink."

"So’k we were well fed on the starplane."

"You got to go on one of those? I thought there wasn’t a regular service yet?" Elizabeth stated. The boredom and stress of a nine hour flight from New York hadn’t yet subsided.

"Mom pulled a few strings. It was out of this world. You take off from JFK like a normal jet, climb to 50,000 feet and then WHAM the ramjet kicks in until you’re nearly in low orbit. You get another WHAM when the rocket part of the engine kicks in and presto New York to London in under an hour. They say it’ll do NY to Sydney in under two. A-F-ing-mazing. Brits invented the thing too, years ago just nobody wanted to put money into it."

"You make me sick. You always manage to go one better don’t you." Elizabeth said jokingly.

"Hey that’s what I’m here for."

"AND it helps that your mom is Rachel Martin doesn’t it?"

"That too. Hey I’m really tired after my 50 minute flight. Can I sit down?" the man asked, and gave a long false yawn.

"Sure, you can see where the sofa is", Elizabeth replied, not rising to the bait.

"Was someone just talking about me?" A voice called out from behind the doorway.

Elizabeth gave a squeal of delight and ran to hug the figure now standing at the door, "Auntie Cathline! Hi"

Cathline responded to the hug, "Hi Lizzy, long time no see."

"You betcha. You look great! Come in."

Cathline gave a smile, "Thanks I always look great."

This was a running family ‘in joke’. Now nearly fifty, Cathline could still pass for less than thirty. When people asked her how she did it she’d always reply with the comment "it’s in the genes". Cathline Richards alias Rachel Martin could still stun a room of people with her grace and beauty.

Still grinning from ear to ear, Elizabeth beckoned Cathline to sit down next to her son. Elizabeth sat down on the opposite armchair. "Is mom and dad coming over?" Elizabeth asked expectantly.

Cathline’s perfect face dropped a little, "They couldn’t make it this week. Senator Jameson’s asked them to help out with his presidential campaign so they’re all caught up in that. Kat, sorry. Your mom asked if I wanted to run for Congress as well but I’m not into that kinda thing."

The man sitting next to Cathline patted her leg in mock comfort, "Ahhh how sad, you’ll just have to put up with being a roving UN Ambassador won’t you."

"So that’s how you pulled off the Starplane flight?" Elizabeth stated. "That’s an abuse of privilege isn’t it?" Her quip hid over the fact that she was bitterly disappointed that her parents hadn’t turned up to see her settle in, typical! At least Cathline was here.

Cathline gave another devastating smile, "Hey not my idea. It was Alex’s. It’s not my fault he talked me into it."

Alex gave an incredulous look "No Mom it wasn’t was it?"

Elizabeth relaxed a little. Being with Cathline always had that effect on her. Her son, Alex however had the opposite effect. Somehow he knew what buttons to press to make her feel off balance and awkward. It was a knack that usually only big brothers have, but he seemed to have acquired it anyhow somewhere down the line too. Elizabeth was saddened to hear that her mom and dad couldn’t make the trip and on that thought said, "I’d have thought mom and dad could put aside just one trip to see me settle in."

Cathline gave a comforting smile, "They do love you Y’know. When they said that they couldn’t come I thought the same thing as you. Kat as always knew what I was thinking and explained that they trust you to do the right thing and that you have it all in hand. Of course they’ll visit next week just to be sure, but I wouldn’t worry about them not loving you. Kat cried herself to sleep at the thought of her little girl moving away for so long. They will miss you. Alex dear go and swipe the meter for me, I’m not sure how much time I put on it."

"OK mom," Alex said, and left the room.

"Good! Now he’s gone for a while, so I can say what I really want to say." Cathline said in a secretive way.

"Which is?" Elizabeth offered.

"I hate keeping the truth about you from Alex, but it’s the best way. As far as he knows you’re Kat’s daughter not Dr Elizabeth Bexley’s. Some things are best left unsaid. Anyway the real reason why they’re not here is that they wanted you to stand up on your own for a while. Sure they’ll be there to catch you if and when you fall, but they don’t want to repeat the mistakes Dr Bexley’s parents made of wrapping her up in cotton wool."

"I know. We decided a few years ago that if we couldn’t change the genetic factors we can change the environment. I’m glad you’re here Cathline. I need someone to talk to."

Cathline placed her hand on Elizabeth’s arm, "I know that’s why I came."

Elizabeth suddenly had a revelation but only raised a quizzical eyebrow in response, "It’s odd. I know, sorry I can feel why you’re doing what you’re doing. You’re playing the counterbalance role aren’t you. You’re the soft edge to mom and dad’s hard one aren’t you? They’ve asked you to look after me in ways that they won’t allow themselves to. You’re my safety net. My judge and jury. What happens if I start acting like HER?"

Cathline was inwardly shocked at Elizabeth’s insight. She scrabbled around for an answer and tried to think of a way of averting more questions. Elizabeth would be able to spot a lie instantly. Cathline nodded slowly and answered, "You’re your mother’s daughter alright."

Elizabeth raised her voice a little, "Which Mother? Kat or my real one?"

Cathline gave a smile, "That, kiddo, is entirely up to you."

Elizabeth was still rattled by her revelation. So much of her childhood slotted into place now. Why hadn’t she seen it earlier? "It fits It all fits. The three of you, mom, dad and you decided as soon as you knew about me how you were going to raise me and what you were going to do in the event of me turning out like the hell bitch."

Cathline could sense the anger starting to brew inside Elizabeth. She needed to defuse it and fast, "You are quite correct. But I don’t see how it’s any different from any other parenting. With Alex I had a plan how I was going to raise him before he was even born. I knew what I was going to say and do in certain situations before they came up. Any good parent knows how they want to bring up a child before they have one. Sure they can change plan or tack as things evolve. Listen, who you are has made no difference to the approach we used to bring you up. I’m your God Mother right?"

Cathline’s logic was starting to defuse Elizabeth’s anger.

Elizabeth just nodded in response.

"Well, I take that role seriously. It’s my responsibility as your God Mother to ensure that you are being brought up in the correct way. It’s the same for John as it is for you. If I’m acting as the counter balance as you call it, it’s because we think a counter balance is needed, not because your mother was Dr Bexley. That’s an important difference."

Cathline was right of course, "I hate it when you three gang up on me," Elizabeth replied.

Now in full flow Cathline continued, "It’s not us versus you. It’s not you versus anybody. It’s how Kat and Matthew decided to bring you up. I knew Elizabeth Bexley when she was a little older than you and you are nothing like her. From where I’m sitting Kat and Matthew have done a wonderful job of raising you. You’re a brilliant, witty and sensitive young woman. You’re more like Kat than HER and I should know. Listen, how many times must you be told before you believe us. You are nothing like your biological mother and never will be!"

"Then why all the subterfuge? Why make me take Olanzapine until I was old enough to decide for myself?"

That was a question Cathline refused to answer.

Elizabeth however refused to let it drop. "I thought as much. You DO think I’ll turn out like HER."

Cathline made eye contact with Elizabeth and said, "No we don’t! Out of all the time you spent with Matthew and Kat did you ever think for one second that they didn’t love you?"

Elizabeth knew that Cathline was right, "No," she shook her head gently.

Cathline continued, "That’s a thought worth holding onto don’t you think? Look this is something you need to talk to Kat or Matthew about. This goes beyond my...."

"Beyond What Mom?" Alex called out as he entered the room.

Cathline jumped ,"Alex, don’t do that to me. How long have you been lurking?"

Alex shrugged "I don’t lurk. The Meter was all paid up anyway.

When do we eat?"

Cathline turned to Alex and said, "We don’t. We’ve got to leave now. We’re taking a normal flight back, and I’ve got some business to attend to in New London. Elizabeth, remember what I said to you earlier. I’m sure you’ll settle in just fine."

"But mom, we just got here," Alex complained.

"I know you want to wind up Elizabeth some more, but I think she’s got enough to do. Elizabeth, nice to see you again. Say bye Alex."

Alex replied with a grin, "Bye Alex"

Elizabeth stood up and gave Cathline a hug, "Thanks Auntie Cathline. Tell mom and dad they were right won’t you?"

"Sure," Cathline said and returned Elizabeth’s embrace. She was relieved she’d managed to avoid a fight with her. Kat was right. Elizabeth needed to be handled the way they’d planned it. It was the only way.

o—o—o—

Angela Holden struggled with her bags as she strove to get to her new room. The cab driver had dropped her off nearly a kilometer too short and now as she clutched all her worldly goods she really wished she had some knight in shining armor to help her carry it all.

She could just see her destination when she saw a very tall, stunningly beautiful woman walk out of there, followed by a tall athletic young man. The man casually looked around him, apparently taking in the serene, scholarly and timeless atmosphere that Cambridge still generated after all these centuries. Angela’s heart skipped a beat as she saw him look at her struggling with her bags. He tapped the tall woman on the shoulder and whispered something to her. The woman turned and her single good eye looked right at Angela and she nodded her approval to the man. Angela eyes widened, Rachel Martin! Before she could think any further she saw that the young man was running towards her.

"Hi, I noticed you were having trouble with your bags? Mind if I help?" the young man asked Angela.

Angela, now fully composed, took the opportunity to study her potential rescuer. She would later describe him as tall, dark and handsome . Gallant too if his offer for help was for real. Before she could say anything he followed on, "I’m sorry my name is Alex Richards and you are..."

"Angela Holden, " Angela blurted out. This is Rachel Martin’s son!!!

"Well Angela Holden, you have two choices. You can let me carry your bags where you want to go, as long as it’s not Oxford or anything, or you can struggle with them yourself? "

"I’m sorry I wasn’t expecting..." Angela blurted out. She’d seen Alex’s face in several magazines, but to meet him face to face had taken her breath away. In her teenage years she’d had a crush on him, and now to finally meet him was too much.

Alex gave another wide smile, "It’s ok, I have this effect on women all the time. Here let me take that for you," Alex offered to take the largest two bags from Angela.

Much relieved Angela let the bags go and instantly felt better. Her shoulders felt raw from the straps digging into them and to have any kind of relief was a godsend. "My room’s 22B, " she managed to say. She noted a ‘Oh no’ kind of look flick across Alex’s face, but it was gone before she could be sure what it really meant.

Alex hoisted the large bags onto his shoulders with an ease that surprised Angela and started off towards the direction he had come from. Angela went to show Alex where her room was, but Alex seemed to already know. "It’s just on the right," Angela said.

Alex nodded and put the bags down onto the floor and knocked loudly.

"Ok, Ok," A voice called out from the room and Angela heard the sound of a key being turned in the lock. Angela then had her second shock of the day. Standing in front of her was none other than Elizabeth Stephens. Her hair was a little untidy and it looked as though she had just woken up. That face with it’s tumbling mass of auburn hair and blue-gray eyes was unmistakable.

Alex broke the silence "Before you say anything Kiddo, I’m here helping your new roomie with her bags."

Angela saw those blue-gray eyes flick a curious look in her direction as if saying ‘I’m not sure about this,’ but then the mouth broke into a wide smile, "Hi I’m.."

"Elizabeth Stephens," Angela completed in a hushed overawed tone.

"No hiding from this face is there?" Elizabeth grinned. "I’ll take your bags for you. Alex, in the best possible way, get lost!

Auntie Cathline is waiting for you"

"Okay, okay, I know when I’m not wanted," Alex tutted in such a way that Angela knew she wasn’t that upset about being given his marching orders. Alex turned to Angela and said "Angela it’s been a pleasure meeting you. I don’t envy you having her for a roommate. If you ask me they should never have let her out." With that last comment Alex gave a single fingered salute and turned to leave.

Angela turned round and gave an appreciative glance at Alex’s ass, "Very nice," she commented.

"So’k, you can have him," Elizabeth retorted. "Now let me show you around."

o—o—o—

Anne Baxter sat on the plane staring out into a bright blue sky.

The view from an aircraft never ceased to amaze and stun her. She loved to lose herself in the endless variations of cloud, land and sky. To her, flying was the second most enjoyable way to travel. By far and away she preferred diving. She had first done it years ago and had never forgotten the feeling of absolute freedom and oneness with nature. It was this feeling that had driven her to study marine zoology and biology. Her career in medicine had been cut short by the love of the ocean and it was one she never intended to follow up again.

She had enjoyed her time at Haverford, but now it was time to move on. Since the death of her parents when she was younger she had, had no real home, and no roots to put down, and that, she decided, was just the way she liked it.

Her transfer to England had fallen thru at the last moment, something to do with her visa she was told, but she had been given an alternative placement in Tel-Aviv for six months before having to return to Haverford. Looking on the bright side Tel-Aviv was a whole lot warmer than Portsmouth and the Red Sea was more inviting than either the North Atlantic or Anglo-French Channel.

Tel-Aviv had been repopulated for over ten years, the deadly agent spread by the Guild had been neutralized, the remains of the people cleared away, and much of the infrastructure rebuilt. Tel-Aviv was now one of the most modern cities in the world, the chance to improve had not been missed but still, so it was said, the aura of death hung over the city. Elizabeth had used her PDA to brush up on the new Amex-Rough guide entries on it, and the thought of living in a place where over half a million people had been slaughtered was enough to make her stomach churn. How could she walk down those streets knowing that in every house and every office block people’s lives had been snuffed out?

She shut out anymore thoughts and reflected back on what she really wanted to do. Go diving, study marine life, and finish her dissertation.

The plane was starting it’s descent and she would be in Tel-Aviv in just over twenty minutes.

o—o—o—

"Ok then, Heels or flats?" Angela grinned.

"Flats, anytime," Elizabeth replied.

"Same here. We’re about the same height and heels make me look far too tall," Angela retorted. They’d been playing the ‘answer right away’ game for a while now.

"My turn. Skirt Pants or Skirts, " Elizabeth asked, casting a quick glance to the black Skirt-Pant she was wearing.

"It’s pretty obvious what you prefer, "Angela grinned.

"It might not be. I might hate this, but it’s the only thing that was clean. Anyway you’re supposed to answer without thinking. That is the purpose of the game is it not?"

"Ok then, Call me old fashioned, skirt."

"My turn again, Beckham-Kline or Armani?," Elizabeth queried.

"Oh yes old bean, Beckham-Kline! I never buy less than five at a time," Angela joked, putting on a false English upper class accent.

Elizabeth felt embarrassed. Much to her amazement she was getting on extremely well with Angela, and had forgotten that not everyone could afford the designer outfits she wore. "I’m sorry. I didn’t think," she muttered.

"It doesn’t matter. My Mum and Dad had to save for fifteen years to send me here, and the fact that I’m—how’d you call it— roomies with the famous Elizabeth Stephens, and at the best university in the world is more than enough," Angela said, piling on Elizabeth’s guilt.

"This is a stupid game," Elizabeth commented.

"Ok my turn then. Money or power?" Angela asked.

"Power, anytime."

"Money," Angela smiled back.

"Can I ask you a favor?" Elizabeth asked.

"Depends. We’ve only known each other an hour," Angela retorted.

"Forget who I am."

"Huh?"

"You’ve mentioned me three times as though I’m some superstar. I came here to be me. Not some media image, or some fixation of that perverse Bexley cult, but to discover who I am and where I fit in. Please let me be just plain ol Elizabeth Cathline Stephens."

Angela ought to have been upset, but Elizabeth had been right, she had been looking at her as though she was some royal princess. "Ok, Lizzy. I’m sorry, it’s just that I’ve never even seen anyone remotely famous let alone live with them. My Dad used to be a computer programmer, before it all became automated and he was laid off. And Mom worked as a secretary for Sony-Micro-Sun-Paq. We never even went on holiday, sorry "vacation," as they put every Euro they had into giving me a better chance than they had."

"It must have been hard. They must really love you," Elizabeth said softly.

Angela thought she detected a note of jealousy in Elizabeth’s voice, "I just hope I live up to their expectations."

"I’m sure you will. If you put your mind to it you can do anything. It’s not been a picnic for me either. Yes Mom and Dad never had to save to get me anything but I’ve always been in the public eye. I’ve had more DNA tests than I can remember, psychological screenings, IQ tests. And those photo’s on the front of the Enquirer last year were the worst ever. I have had no privacy, and when people look at me they don’t think oh look

that’s Elizabeth Stephens they see HER, Dr Elizabeth Anne Bexley. That horrid Bexley cult is the worst of the lot. Until tests proved otherwise they thought I was the Second Coming or something. That’s the hardest thing of all. I can cope with blurry topless photo’s of me on my mom and dad’s island but any reference to the hell bitch just gets me right here, " Elizabeth pointed to her heart.

"I’m sorry. Look if it’s any help I don’t believe any of those rumors. I was just a little star struck that’s all," Angela said, now it was her turn to feel guilty.

"Hey I’m star struck too. It’s not everyday I get to share a room with Dr Angela Holden the greatest neurologist the world has ever seen," Elizabeth grinned. The tension had been broken and each of them had shown an exposed side of them. The bond of acquaintance had grown into the glimmer of trust.

o—o—o—

Wills caught up with Mark in the canteen. He’d been worried about him for a few days. Mark had been sullen, almost silent, and to make matters worse had skipped several tutorials. At this rate Mark was on collision course to fail his doctorate. Wills had tried to talk to him several times but each and every time he had gotten the cold shoulder treatment. It didn’t take the length of time they had been friends to work out that something was very wrong with the normally upbeat Mark.

"Hey bud," Wills said cheerfully.

"Huh," Mark replied in a sullen tone.

Wills gave Mark an ultimatum "Ok. Look, you can ignore me or grouch at me all you like but I’m not going away ‘til you talk to me."

"Ok fine, but there’s no point. You can’t help me, you’ll just have to put up with me," Mark replied.

"Since when have I ever put up with you?" Will asked with a comforting smile on his face,

Mark managed a shrug back "Since now."

Wills indicated to Mark that they should take a seat at an empty table at the far end of the canteen. Mark grudgingly agreed and sat down opposite Wills.

Mark, admitting defeat and feeling as though he had to tell someone, fiddled with his chicken salad for a while before giving Wills a lost puppy dog look. "I went to find her."

"Who?" Wills asked.

"The woman I saw going into the faculty the other week."

"You never told me?" Wills asked.

"As soon as I saw her I couldn’t get her out of my mind. Something just clicked inside me and I knew that she was the one."

"How can you know that? Anyway let me guess, she blew you out," Wills said. He was tempted to make some kind of quip but by the look on Mark’s face this was no joking matter.

"Worse. Her neighbor told me that she’s gone to Tel-Aviv. Now I’ll never see her again. If she’d blown me out as least I’d have known where I stood, but now I’ll never know. I was so sure she was the one. Now I can’t concentrate on anything and my grades are slipping. That makes me more depressed and makes me think more about losing her. I’m in a vicious circle," Mark now looked thoroughly down.

Wills, all thoughts of quips now quashed, said, "Did you get a name. She can’t have gone to Tel-Aviv forever, she has to come back here to finish her course."

"I thought of that but her neighbor told me she was going to England for two years but that got cancelled and so she went to Tel-Aviv instead. Two Years, that’s a long time. She’d find someone else in that time. I may as well face it, I blew it, the one woman I ever wanted and I’ve blown it."

Wills had an idea. "Look what’s her name, we can look her up on the net’s white pages. Find out all about her and then we’ll know more. As for your grades, if you’re not here in two years how can you meet her when she gets back?"

Mark gave a smile. Hope had been restored and Wills was right. He would work harder now. He had to be here when she came back. "Her neighbor gave me her name, Anne Baxter."

o—o—o—

 

Anne eventually emerged from the Tel Aviv arrivals lounge and was hit by the dry heat of the midday sun. After waiting in line for her baggage she headed for the local Avis rental desk. It was a fair drive to her lodgings and already she was tired from the long flight over. After queuing for about ten minutes she reached the desk.

"Passport please," the Avis lady asked.

Anne noted how all service desk, Hostesses and receptionists all seemed to look the same the world over. Maybe it was their impossibly sunny disposition that caused made her think that. Anyway she handed over her passport to the lady.

The lady studied it for a few moments before returning it, "Driving permits please."

"Will this work? It’s got all the options I want?" Elizabeth fished out her PDA and showed it to the lady.

"Sure, just aim it at the terminal, its called Avis4526"

Anne was relieved, the last thing she wanted to do was fill out masses of forms. She pointed the PDA at the lady’s terminal, "PDA, transmit my driving permit and hirecar details to terminal Avis4526."

The lady gave a smile, "Thank you Ms Baxter. You car is in lot 24. It’s the blue GMFord starlight. It’s been serviced last week and there’s a spare fuel cell in the trunk if you need it. I’ve transmitted your biometric profile to the car so all you need to do is grab the handle. I’ve also sent an online map of how to get to the car so just consult your PDA. Enjoy you stay, thank you for using Avis."

Anne gave a nod of thanks and wheeled her luggage cart outside into the blazing heat of the day. On her way out she noted the small plaque on the wall commemorating the twenty three thousand men, women and children that had died at this airport over twenty years ago. Anne had seen this in the guidebook. In every building and street there were memorials to the dead, but seeing it here on a wall really brought home the atrocity that had been committed in this now thriving city. She hoped she would be able to remove the morbidity of this place from her mind but then again did she want to? Would doing that deprive her of her compassion? Only time would tell.

Anne consulted her PDA and a flashing arrow told her that the Avis depot was two hundred meters to the left. A few minutes later she was standing next to a Blue Gmford. It had been newly washed and sat there gleaming in the sunlight. Anne grabbed the handle of the car and the door sprung open. Miniature sensors on the car handle had read her hand and fingerprints. Cross checked them with its database and had decided that she was who said she said she was. Anne reached inside the car and pressed the trunk release and moved around to the rear of the car and loaded her luggage into the trunk. After dutifully sliding the cart back into the cart retrieval area she got inside the car and closed the door.

Within a few seconds the cars climate control had kicked in filling the car with warm, cool air. Anne had one last thing to do before she was ready to leave, she pointed her PDA at the car entertainment system. "PDA, download all music tracks to Gmford regno A56433X. Also program GeoNav system with our destination and work out the quickest route avoiding all current congestion," the PDA confirmed its acknowledgement.

Anne felt her seat reshape it’s self to give a perfect fit, and after settling herself down. She pressed the start button on the console and felt the smooth hum of the engine. "Car engage autoNav and let me know when we’re five minutes away.

"Yes Ms Baxter," the car replied in a smooth silky female voice. Anne gave a smile, Rachel Martin would do anything for money these days. Anne felt the car move off and onto the freeway. Anne’s own car was nowhere near this advanced and anyway she preferred to drive herself. Anyway was there any other way to drive a late 2000 model year Porsche?

"Car, dim the windows and play track 4, no video, audio only."

Anne sat back into her chair, closed her eyes and started to listen. This was just the song that matched how she felt at the moment.

"I stood close enough to hear you say

‘Do as the beautiful ones do’

Tore out my picture from its frame

I just wanted to be one of you

Standing on the outside

Lookin’

Lookin’

Funny how you see the truth

But the feeling does come back

To you

She’s crazy as anyone can be

That’s what they say

They say of me

Wanting love can make one do

Isn’t my fault

Heredity

Standing on the outside

Lookin’

Lookin’

State of grace

State of sin

Standing on the outside

Lookin’

Lookin’

I cannot feel a single thing

But the feeling does come back

Again

This morning feels like yesterday

Yesterday follows me around

Where do you go where no one cares

Six feet under

Underground

Standing on the outside

Lookin’

Lookin’

State of grace

State of sin

Standing on the outside

Lookin’

Lookin’

I cannot feel a single thing

But the feeling will come back

Again - again"

o—o—o—

"So your parents worked for fifteen years to send you here?" Elizabeth asked. It was now nearly eleven pm and they had been talking for hours. Elizabeth felt relieved things were going so well. Later on in the week when she called Kat she would describe Angela as ‘normal’. But for now Elizabeth was just glad to have someone her own age who she could just be herself with. Of course it was early days but, judging by the signs it was going very well. Her only point of reference for this kind of friendship was the sisterly bond between her mom and Auntie Cathline. Although her friendship with Angela was a long way from being that close it did have a positive beginning and that Elizabeth decided was more than she’d hoped for.

"Yeah. I determined to work my hardest so that their sacrifice wasn’t wasted. I’ve borrowed a PDA, brought the cheapest e-books I could find and promised I’d pay them back every Euro they gave me."

"I’ve had to pay for myself to be here. Sure mom and dad give me an allowance but my tuition fees and everything else comes from my own money." Elizabeth stated.

"Gave you a million to play with did they?" Angela said with no hint of sarcasm or malice.

"I wish. They looked at what the average student needs and gave me that amount. They made it damn clear that if I needed anymore then I’d have to work for it."

"Whoa that’s tough!" Angela said. She was surprised. She had expected the famous Elizabeth Stephens to be on a sum fit for a princess.

"You don’t know the half of it. Sure I’ve got my Beckham-Kline outfits and Armani skirt-pants but I had these before I became a student here. My mom and dad are adamant. They had to make it by themselves so I have to. "

"That’s a tough lesson, but fair I guess. Tell me are they like they are portrayed in the past. Did the things they say happen really happen?" Angela asked.

"If you mean do I believe what they tell me or what other people have said, I believe mom and dad every time. It’s no accident who I look like. I saw photos of dad and Mom when they were transformed. I’ve seen Auntie Cathline’s ruined eye and I’ve seen more evidence of Dr Bexley’s evil than I care to think of.

Sure she redeemed herself to the world at the end but not before causing a lot of people a lot of pain"

"You sound bitter against her. She’s been dead for twenty years and I was always told she emerged a heroine. Her final act of stopping a war was seen as a triumph and her tragic suicide just added to the mythos," Angela said.

Elizabeth shrugged, "Sure that’s the way the history books tell it but what people don’t get is that it should never have happened in the first place. Even Mom and Dad have a rose tinted view of her now, they say that she strengthened their relationship beyond what it would have ever become and that probably the destruction of Tel-Aviv and Cairo would have happened at some point in time anyway."

"They are probably correct. At the time it was seen as a great horror but sooner or later somebody was going to use a genetic weapon and nuclear ones too. That’s the benefit of hindsight. We know the socio-economics of the time and can work backwards from there. A Middle East conflict was inevitable. If the Guild didn’t do it, Iraq would, if Iraq wouldn’t then somebody else would. As soon as somebody found a way to create a genetic weapon then it’s going to get used. Dr Bexley just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. In some ways she was there are the right time, your parents too", Angela stated.

"That maybe and that’s what the history books teach but I still hate her for what she put Mom, Dad and Cathline thru. Mom used to call her ‘hell bitch’ and that name suits her just fine," Elizabeth was showing real emotion now. In some ways she wanted to tell Angela the truth about her relationship to Dr Bexley but that was one secret she was determined to keep.

"Remind me never to cross you," Angela said with a smile.

Elizabeth grinned back, "Hey no problem. I’m beat and we’ve got a big day tomorrow. See you in the refectory at midday?"

Angela nodded her agreement. Like Elizabeth she was pleased with the way things had started off.

o—o—o—

The first week or so of Elizabeth’s course went surprisingly quickly. Cambridge was a fascinating city with so much history that Elizabeth couldn’t help but fall in love with the place. It was so wonderfully quirky and full of tradition, most of which people hadn’t a clue where they came from but performed anyway. There were innumerable book shops, still selling paper bound copies and little markets tucked quietly away in the corner of some ancient cobbled street. She had spent a number of free periods in the museums and still admitted she hadn’t even scratched the surface. She and Angela had enjoyed a quiet picnic by "the backs" a secluded stretch of green straddled by the clear, slow moving river Cam and had booked next week to go for a punting trip down the river. At the moment her studies were lightweight but she knew as the weeks drew on the the pace would rapidly ramp up. For the moment she lapped up every second of the olde worlde atmosphere of the ancient city.

She was now spread out on the sofa, she had put away her Beckham-Klines for special occasions and had splashed out on the de-facto student attire of denim jeans and baggy sweater. Her new hairstyle still felt strange and she missed her long flowing locks, but the shorter style was more practical and attracted less attention. Angela had wanted her to go blonde but this was too radical a move for her at the moment. It did give her a rather ‘girl next door’ look but she didn’t mind. She wanted to move away from the old Elizabeth and find her own way. She was a little sad that her parents hadn’t yet had time to visit but she suspected that this was their plan all along. This suited her just fine at the moment, she was relishing her independence although she was glad that at least Angela shared her neurology class. She gave a yawn and reflected on her relationship with Angela. For two people of such disparate backgrounds they shared a lot of common views. Angela had soon lost her starstruck awe of her and that Elizabeth thought was a welcome change. Angela treated her for who she was not where she came from.

Elizabeth had had childhood friends. Alex was one of her closest in spite of all his teasing but Angela was rapidly becoming one of her ‘inner circle’. Of course she had told no one about her real origins, that would ruin everything. It shouldn’t have made much difference to her who her mother was but in the back of her mind she couldn’t help but worry if she was destined to turn out like her. What worried her most was that by all account the hell bitch’s parents hadn’t been much different from her own. If they had been powerless to stop what happened to Elizabeth then surely hers would be too. Elizabeth knew that she couldn’t help but be hurt somewhere along the line she just wondered how far that hurt would need to run.

At the age of eighteen her parents had given her the responsibility for choosing whether to take the Olanzapine or not. Initially she had chosen not to but as it dawned on her that environment or not she had the same mental flaw that caused the Hell bitch to wreak so much havoc she owed it to herself and any future partner not to take that risk. So, everyday she dutifully took her Olanzapine, it would be foolish not to. Angela had asked what it was and Elizabeth had told her it was her Asthma medicine. It was even specially stamped with the wrong label so that a casual glance couldn’t give it away.

Elizabeth’s train of thought was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. Wearily she got up and answered the door. On seeing who it was she gave a whoop of joy and embraced the couple at the door. "MOM, DAD you came!"

"Hi little mite," Matthew said with a smile. It had been too long since he’d seen his number one daughter.

"I like the hair. It makes you look a little stern but a lot more mature," Kat commented.

"How, how?" Elizabeth started. She never expected to see them this early on. She’d been told they’d visit in a month or so.

Matthew gave a smile "We took a detour on our way over to Manhattan. We thought we’d drop in and see how you were doing."

"Please come in, it’s a little bit of a mess. Where’s little bro?"

"Thanks. John’s at Yale. He couldn’t make it over but I’m sure you’ll see him at the end of the semester," Kat gave Elizabeth’s apartment the once over. The little bit of mess Elizabeth was referring to was two unwashed coffee cups on table.

"Nice place. How’s the roomie working out?" Matthew asked, taking a seat on the sofa.

"Angela? She’s great. When I first heard I was getting a roommate I was afraid that I’d get some prissy English girl but Angela’s not like that at all. She should be back soon, I’m sure you’ll like her," Elizabeth looked guiltily at the coffee cups and discretely put them into the kitchen area.

"It’s ok Liz. You are allowed to be messy sometimes. I thought it was traditional for a student," Kat said.

"That’s what Angela says. You should see her room. It’s a tip. She does clear away the meal things though which is the main thing."

"That’s my girl. Never a thing out of place," Matthew grinned.

"How’s the course going. Not too much hard work is it?" Kat asked.

"Is anything ever hard work for me? Not really, they’re still in ramp up mode at the moment so I’ll have a better idea in a month’s time. Cambridge is wonderful, so much history, and the quality of the research is nothing like we have back home," Elizabeth enthused.

Kat put on her serious mother-daughter chat face, "Cathline told me you were feeling a little abandoned when you first got here. You seemed to be building up to a fight with her when Alex walked in. Are you ok now?"

"I guess so Mom. I wish you didn’t live either side of a continent or ocean, there’s so much I want to tell and show you, but I can’t because you’re over there and usually too busy to leave," Elizabeth said sadly. As always her mom had gotten right to the heart of how she felt. Sometimes it was infuriating but other times like now it was a welcome relief. Cathline had told her she felt exactly the same way about Kat sometimes. It was one of her mother’s defining character traits.

"It works both ways Elizabeth. We need to give you enough slack and freedom to find out who you are but be there if and when you fall. It’s a delicate balance and it’s one we’ll admit we haven’t got right yet. Not with you and not with John. All we can do is hope we’ve given you enough to know what’s right and wrong and to use compassion, wisdom and courage that we know is in you. It looks to us that you’re doing just fine. We have our own lives to live just as you have yours. But the thing is, the real thing to hold onto is that we are there for you, and if we should ever need it you are there for us. That’s what family is all about," Kat said in her most reassuring voice.

Elizabeth felt relieved at this. Kat had a way of sorting things out in just the right way. "Mom I’m worried about me. I feel like a time-bomb about to go off. I’m so scared to get into any kind of deep friendship with anyone, just in case they hurt me and I go and strike back. When the hell bitch struck back, people died."

"Are you talking about this Angela?" Matthew asked.

"I guess so. She’s tried to fix me up with a date a couple of times but I’ve turned them all down. Is it right for me to feel like this?"

Kat placed a hand on Elizabeth’s leg to reassure her. "You can’t keep holding people at arms length. You’ll end up a very lonely and shallow person otherwise. What’s the point in being able to feel, talk and love if you can’t share them with anyone? You may as well be a robot, devoid of any emotions or the qualities that determine our humanity, Take Alex for example. Do you know why he treats you like a kid sister?"

"Because he hates me? Thinks I’m a pain in the ass?" Elizabeth answered.

Kat gave Elizabeth a smile, "Alex doesn’t hate you. He may think you’re a pain in the ass sometimes and he’d be right. He asked me a while back how to reach out to you. He doesn’t understand you. His teasing is his defense mechanism. He wants to be closer to you, to really get to know who the real Elizabeth Cathline Stephens is, but you’ve spent all your life pushing him away."

"He never told me any of this," Elizabeth stated. What was mom driving at?

"He wouldn’t. He cares too much about you to put pressure on you like that. He wants to be your friend, but on your terms."

"You mean he’s got the hots for me?" Elizabeth said. Surely not!

"I don’t think so. You two grew up together and in some respects treat each other like brothers and sisters so of course there’s going to be a bit of good natured needling. But in any good friendship there should be a serious sharing of thoughts and feelings. I’m not telling you what to do but If I were you next time Alex visits take him out to dinner. Wow him with how much of a wonderful young woman you’ve become."

Elizabeth had a mental image of her sitting down at a restaurant table with Alex and sharing a candlelit dinner. The image made her smile. What a ridiculous thought!

Kat saw what her daughter was thinking and commented "All i’m saying is open up to people. This Angela sounds fun, start sharing with her, do something impulsive for a change. Sure you can have picnics by the river and that’s an important part of a friendship but you need to move on. Do you know how you prevent becoming the reincarnation of the hell bitch?"

"Kill myself?" Elizabeth said cynically.

Kat gave a concerned look at Matthew, "If you tried that I WOULD be worried. No, you start by sharing with those you trust. Then when the hurt comes you are prepared for it, it will hurt but you will have the friends around you to help you out. Notice that Dr Bexley had no real friends before she met Cathline and Matthew. When the hurt came she reacted like a spoilt child. Before Matthew jilted her she’d never been wounded before. For a woman of her obvious intelligence she was very naive. Lizzy, put down your roots of trust in those you love and care for. Us, Auntie Cathline or anybody you feel you can lean on when the tough times come."

Now it was Matthew’s turn to say something, "Your moms right. Start to live a little. Learn to trust more, learn to love more and learn that from the pain you emerge stronger and a better person than you were before."

Elizabeth thought for a few moments, "So you’re saying that we need pain, hurt and conflict in our lives in order to grow. If that’s the case why do people who are always getting hurt are in such a mess?"

Kat gave a smile. Elizabeth had nearly got it, "It’s a question of balance. The trick is, to work out the balance for yourself. And nobody, not even us can tell you where that is."

"I need to work this out for myself right?" Elizabeth questioned.

"Fraid so little mite," Matthew quipped.

Elizabeth sat in silence for a minute or so. Her parents were right. She had to take the next step but why was she so afraid to?

Again Kat read her thoughts, "Scary isn’t it? Let me tell you something. When I knew your dad had been turned into Dr Bexley it’d scared me so much I didn’t know what to do. Sure I was as mad as hell and sure I was concerned for his safety but one thought I remember going around and around in my mind was ‘Yes I love him but can I go thru with this?’ I spent the days leading up to Xmas in my old house in mourning for what I’d lost. Although I might learn to love again I knew deep down it wouldn’t be the same. I don’t know how to describe how Matthew and I feel about each other but the only term I know that fits is ‘soul mate’ I feel as though Matthew and I have waited throughout all eternity to meet each other. It was that depth of feeling that drove me to stand by him no matter what. But to reach that stage I had to take it one step at time and do whatever it took to get there."

"I guess so mom. I’ll try." Elizabeth said softly.

"That’s my girl. Kat I think it’s time we were going," Matthew said with smile.

Angela walking in interrupted the conversation. On seeing Matthew and Kat she almost took a step backwards in surprise.

Kat cast her eyes over Elizabeth’s roommate. She was nearly as tall as Elizabeth was and had a similar shaped face. Her hair was raven black and a pair of intelligent looking green eyes looked back at her. It took a few moments for Angela to register and then she held out her hand, "Hi, you must be Elizabeth’s parents?"

"This is Matthew and I’m Jane," Kat replied returning Angela’s handshake.

"Elizabeth been dishing the dirt on me has she? How I never tidy up, always leave my clothes in a heap on the floor, and convince her to have her hair chopped short," Angela said with a warm smile.

"If you can convince Elizabeth to do anything she doesn’t want to do then you’re better than we are," Matthew joked.

"Dad," Elizabeth complained as though she was still fifteen.

"Elizabeth, we’re in New London for another day. I’m told there’s a direct train into Kings Cross. Should only take an hour. We’re staying in the penthouse of the Langam Hilton. We’d love it if you’d join us for dinner tomorrow. Angela can come too if she wants," Kat offered.

"Thanks mom I’ll come. Angela you want to meet the ‘olds’?"

Elizabeth asked.

"I think I’ll pass. It’s about time I did some work," Angela commented.

"But Angela, this is the Langam Hilton. Think about it—world class food, health spa’s, rejuv-sauna’s everything. It’ll be great," Elizabeth pleaded.

"You’ve got the brains to cruise all year, I’m afraid I haven’t. Mr and Mrs Stephens thank you so much for the offer and if it were last week then I’d be there already."

"We understand. Maybe next time," Matthew concluded.

"Elizabeth, we’ve transferred a little bit extra into your account for you to buy something nice for the meal. See ya tomorrow about eight?, " Kat smiled at Elizabeth and gave her a hug.

"Bye mom, Bye dad," Elizabeth said and gave Matthew another rib bursting hug.

"Maybe we’ll get chance to get to know you better next time. Nice meeting you Angela," Kat gave Angela a goodbye wave, Angela just smiled in return.

Elizabeth followed Matthew and Kat down the stairs and waved to them as they drew off in their hire car. She slowly walked up the steps and found Angela eating the last remaining null-fat chocolate bar.

"You could’ve been a little bit more civil to them?" Elizabeth complained.

"What?" Angela stated.

"They offered to treat you to a thousand Euro meal and you turn them down. Work my ass. You’re assignments don’t start until next week," Elizabeth sniped.

"I’d rather have had the money. Besides, you need to spend some time with them without me getting in the way. Tell me on a scale of one to ten, how anarchic are you feeling? Want to do something REALLY impulsive and downright stupid?"

"Why?" Elizabeth said suspiciously.

"Look at this. I thought we might go," Angela held up her PDA and showed Elizabeth the screen.

"WHAT! Have you lost your stupid limey brain?" Elizabeth almost shouted.

"It’d make the meeting interesting for them. Wouldn’t it?" Angela said with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Besides, we start work proper next week, we won’t get much chance for living on the edge for a while AND so the flyer says they have a special visit by the chief priest or whatever he’s called," Angela’s green eyes were gleaming with mischief and devil may care.

"It’d make me dead that’s what it would. You seriously expect me to walk into a Children of Bexley rally?" Elizabeth was incredulous. This idea was madness. Every fiber of her being hated the thought of going and yet a small part of her reveled in the sheer devilment of it.

"I’ve got this coat you can wear, it’s got one of those hoods. I thought we’d wait until they were in full flow. You would stand up to leave and accidentally let your hood drop. Imagine the look on their faces when they saw it was Dr Bexley’s look alike in among them."

Elizabeth’s mischievous part was now starting to assert itself, "But they hate mom and dad. They say it was their fault, that the whole thing was some con trick to get their hands on the hell bitches money. They would kill me or at least hold me hostage."

"Don’t be stupid—they haven’t tried yet have they? They’re justa harmless bunch of wacko’s. Let’s find out what they really think about you. I’ll set my PDA on instant alarm, and you can do the same. Come on, you know you want to. You can get them back for all the grief they gave you over your blood tests, mental profile, and every other test they forced you to have just to disprove them."

"Instant alarm huh. Payback’s a bitch isn’t it?"

"In this case, a hell bitch," Angela said with a smile.

What the hell Elizabeth thought and gave Angela a confirmatory smile.

Angela gave Elizabeth her spare coat and Elizabeth placed the hood over her head. It covered up most of her head and left only her blue-gray eyes showing.

"PDA set to instant alarm. Call emergency 211 in the event of my heart stopping or the next keypress," Angela said.

Elizabeth repeated the command. From a position of fear she was now basking in the thrill of the forbidden and downright dangerous. She had never done anything like this before. Normally she was so logical and precise but this was more impulsive than she had ever been in her life. The tingling sensation of fear was an addictive one. Her parents had warned her against having anything to do with the Children of Bexley cult. Elizabeth knew that her life as she knew it would be over if they found out whom she was really descended from. That’s what made this all the more thrilling.

They took the autobus to a small city called Ely, some fifteen miles from Cambridge. It was far enough away not to let the cult members know where they came from but close enough for a quick getaway if required. Elizabeth and Angela were silent during the twenty minute trip. Soon they were outside of an old car dealership in the middle of town. It had been converted into a meeting place and people were streaming in. Elizabeth could hardly keep herself from running back to the bus station. The butterflies in her stomach were multiplying with every step and it was all she could do to keep down a scream. Angela clutched hold of her arm and Elizabeth felt reassured that she was there.

As she approached the door she held her head down and took the paper flyer a well dressed man at the door passed to her. Her head still down she took a seat at the back and as far away from the ‘congregation’ as she could. By now there were about two or three hundred people of all walks of life. They were sitting down quietly waiting for the meeting to start.

"I want to leave," Elizabeth whispered to Angela.

"Shh it’s starting," Angela said and gave Elizabeth’s arm a squeeze. Elizabeth’s nerves were catching.

One by one the people rose and clapped as a man dressed in a smart Armani suit walked onto the stage. His goatee beard was newly clipped and his blue-gray eyes surveyed the sea of people in front of him. Just looking at him Elizabeth could feel the charisma of the man. She knew that just by listening to his voice those of weaker will would believe anything he told them. There was something supernatural about his demeanor, and caught up in the rising tide of cheering and clapping, Elizabeth felt herself joining in. She cast a glance at Angela. She too had been unable to resist the groundswell of emotion pouring out into the room.

The man beckoned for them to sit and Elizabeth did so. She saw the man glance again across the room and she hurriedly avoided his gaze. The last thing she wanted to do was reveal herself. She decided she would sit tight and listen and then leave. It had been a grave mistake to come here.

Elizabeth felt Angela’s grip tighten on her arm once more. The man had started to speak.

"Thank you all for coming. It’s been a long trip for me and I know it has for many of you. For those new here let me introduce myself. My name is James Adams and I am currently the one honored to be called the leader of the Children of Bexley. From when I was young and my mother showed me the results of the second Bexley trial I knew that this woman had something to teach us."

"Yeah how to kill people," Elizabeth whispered.

"Shh this is fun," Angela said.

"Her life was an extraordinary testament of triumph over adversity. We all know the records of the Fury have been tampered with in order to protect those who robbed Dr Bexley of her inheritance. For those who are unsure let me put forward a few facts.

Firstly, If this DNA machine ever existed where is it now? Once invented things do not un-invent themselves.

Secondly the altering of a person at the genetic level goes against all known laws of molecular biology. For those that are interested you can pull down a detailed e-book on it.

Thirdly. It’s interesting that those who were so called affected by the Fury all received multi million dollar payouts without having to go thru the courts to get it!.

Fourthly, There are no records and biopsies of the so-called changelings. We have no one’s say so that they ever existed.

Fifthly the agent used to destroy Tel-Aviv was not a genetic warhead but a highly corrosive acid, condensed into a fine mist."

The man paused to let his facts sink in. "He’s right about the DNA bit," Elizabeth stated, "Nobody’s ever worked out how Dr Bexley managed it."

"Then there’s the sixth fact. The use of prosthetics and cosmetic surgery was nearly as advanced as it is now. The only way a double of Dr Bexley could be created was by use of those methods."

"Angela I want to go now," Elizabeth stated.

"Not yet, I’ll give you the nudge," Angela whispered back.

"Anyway I hope I have given you enough to think about. There are about another twenty or so facts but I won’t bore you with them Use your PDA’s to get to http://www.come.to/children-of-bexley and read all the evidence for yourself.

You’ve seen the pictures of Matthew and Jane Stephens on the campaign trail with senator Jameson. What a fine upright couple they make. So would you if you had used the deviousness of the devil to rob an innocent woman and kill her parents on their way to a mercy mission."

Anger grew inside Elizabeth and she could take no more. It had been a mistake to come here. Not for her safety, but this whole charade was a gross insult to the memories of those who had been killed. She felt Angela pull her down but she shrugged off her arm.

"THAT’S A LIE!" Elizabeth roared and flung her hood back. Her face was red with fury and her blue-gray eyes had a murderous glint in them.

The man on the platform looked shocked for a moment and Elizabeth felt every eye in the room turn and face her. Those eyes widened and gasps of shock echoed around the room. The man had already composed himself and said in his most persuasive voice, "Tell me your name child"

"My name is Elizabeth Cathline Stephens and what you just said was a perversion of the truth and an insult to everyone who died trying to stop your precious Dr Bexley," Elizabeth’s voice was a quiet menacing hiss.

Angela looked up at Elizabeth. She had seen pictures of Dr Bexley and now Elizabeth looked as murderous and as deadly as her late namesake ever did. She felt a cold shiver run down her spine. What had she done?

The man said in his most placating voice, "Ladies and gentlemen we are greatly honored tonight. The daughter of our revered mother is here amongst us. Please join me in showing your true feelings."

Elizabeth put her hand into her pocket, ready to trigger the PDA, but saw to her amazement that the man on the platform had got down on bended knee. One by one everyone in the room save Angela was kneeling in front of her. Elizabeth could hear the whisperings of "Blessed mother thank you" and "Welcome daughter of the most high mother". The chants of praise to Elizabeth grew louder and louder and Elizabeth felt her soul rise with the sound of her praise. It was a feeling like none she had ever encountered. Elizabeth found her arms outstretched as if accepting all the praise that was being directed at her. It was an intoxicating feeling and one that Elizabeth never wanted to end.

Before things go too much out of hand Angela stood up and dragged a mesmerized Elizabeth out of the room and onto the street. Away from the chanting Elizabeth’s head cleared, "What the fuck was that," she swore.

"You tell me? They were worshipping you!" Angela exclaimed

"Cool wasn’t it! Promise me one thing," Elizabeth asked

"What’s that?"

"I don’t EVER want to go back there again, " Elizabeth muttered. The feeling of anger had left her elated and the praise as though she were some goddess had left a hook in her that she found she didn’t want to remove.

Elizabeth was sullen on the bus back to Cambridge. She didn’t want to explore the feelings that the meeting had awakened in her. The feelings of power, of being an unstoppable force of destiny and of hurt simmered inside her. How dare they call her parent’s murderers and thieves?

"Elizabeth I’m sorry. I thought it’d be a laugh. I don’t know what to say," The image of Elizabeth in full fury was imbedded in her mind.

"You don’t have to say anything. How can they believe such things? You’ve met mom and dad did they seem like they had arranged the murder of someone’s parents just to steal some money? I don’t get it, they’ve never done anything to harm anyone, why pick on them?" Elizabeth’s anger was slowly turning to sorrow and confusion.

Angela grabbed hold of Elizabeth’s arm and moved closer to comfort the now crying Elizabeth, "Of course they’re not. People are odd and do things we might least expect and want them to. You’ve known what these people believed from when you were young it can’t have been that much of a shock to you."

Elizabeth felt comforted by Angela’s arm on hers. She put her head on Angela’s shoulder feeling her smooth hair against her head, "Hmm you’ve been using my shampoo again."

"Guilty," Angela retorted, "I’ve just had a thought. You knew about this at an intellectual level but never at a personal one. Anyone else would have just walked out or at least said your piece and then walked out. Why did you stay? If you hated it so much why did you stay there and lap up their worship as though you were really Dr Bexley’s daughter?"

"Look if you had four hundred people singing your praises I’m sure you’d be flattered," Elizabeth retorted. The feelings of exhalation were beginning to surface again. Elizabeth quickly put them down and continued.

"Maybe but you sure as hell enjoyed it. I’m so sorry I put you through that. There was one moment when you looked so much like the ‘hell bitch’ it ran my blood cold. I’ve seen photos of her and up until that moment you looked like her, same eyes, nose everything but you had a certain air of naivete about you."

"Now what do you see?"

"The naivete has gone, at least for the moment. Don’t worry too much you’re probably tired," Angela comforted Elizabeth once more. She could feel Elizabeth’s gentle crying on her shoulders and it was all she could do not to join her. She was responsible for the shattering of her friend’s innocence and nothing she could think of could make her feel better about it.

They walked back arm in arm. Well, Angela was nearly carrying Elizabeth along. Elizabeth’s eyes were red with tears and her normal upright, confident stance had gone - replaced by a despondent stooping walk. They arrived back at the apartment and Angela unlocked the door and walked inside. She switched on the coffee machine, retrieved some ice cream from the cooler and handed Elizabeth a bowl and a spoon.

"What’s this for? I just want to go to bed," Elizabeth said, starting to get up.

"No you don’t, not yet," Angela stated

"Make me," Elizabeth whispered.

"What can I say to make this better," Angela asked.

"Goodnight Elizabeth."

Angela had an idea. It was only a glimmering of one and it would require a leap of faith on her part. "Elizabeth, I want to tell you something. "

"What’s that?"

Angela looked right at Elizabeth and said softly, "I know the reason why you are so hurt about tonight. You’ve never trusted anyone, ever. The only people you trust are your mom and dad and they’re a safe option for you. You know they love you and will no matter what. When that guy said what he did about them for a moment, just for a moment you believed him. Even the trust you had built up for your parents wasn’t enough to make you doubt them when faced with a charismatic speaker of some dumb cult. That’s why you got hurt. You are ashamed of yourself for believing him even for a moment, ashamed of enjoying all the praise you were getting and shit scared that you might turn out like the hell bitch. But there’s no way you can, the tests proved otherwise."

Elizabeth stayed silent. If only Angela knew the truth. She sought to divert Angela away, "Mom was telling me the same thing today. You’re right, I need to trust someone, open myself up to someone otherwise every single bitchy comment or lie will get to me right here," Elizabeth pointed at her heart.

Angela sat down beside Elizabeth and made eye contact with her, "Let me be that person. I don’t know what it is but we just connect you’re becoming like a sister to me. Here I’ll go first. This is a secret that nobody except my parents know. If it got out I’ll lose my grant money, everything so I trust you with it. Fifteen years of work and sacrifice by my parents will be wasted if this gets out."

"What is it?" Elizabeth asked. She felt relieved that Angela had made the first move.

"I’m adopted. My parents never registered me with the authorities. They were afraid I’d be taken away from them if they did. They got a forged birth entry and everything for me. If this were ever found out I’d lose my grant and my parents would face jail. They found me in the park, I was barely a few hours old and nearly frozen to death. They took me in and raised me as their own. I’ve no idea who my real family is or was but they obviously didn’t want me. Now mum and dad are the only family I have or even want."

Angela’s open admission had taken Elizabeth by surprise. What she had just told her put her in a position of power over her. Just one small slip and Angela Holden and her family were finished. Elizabeth felt extremely flattered to be told such a thing. She thought back what she’d been told about her mom and auntie Cathline’s friendship. How it had grown in a short space of time to the point where it was nearly has strong as that between hers and Matthew’s. Kat was right, it was about time she trusted someone else. But could Angela be trusted with her darkest secret? Elizabeth considered the options, of any one she had met, even Alex; Angela was the one person who had left herself vulnerable to her. It was a big step for Angela to take and just maybe it was time for her to take one of her own.

Elizabeth took a deep breath "Angela, what I’m about to tell you is so secret that only three people in the world know about it. In the same way as your life would be ruined if I told anyone about your adoption then mine would be also. I would become an exile, shunned by everyone I met and probably have to live my life under armed guard."

Angela’s eyes opened in curiosity. What was Elizabeth going to say?

Elizabeth stood up, ensured that the curtains were closed and walked over to check that nobody was listening at the door. She took her PDA out and started to write.

"You were right about my reasons for being scared and angry at the rally tonight."

"I knew that," Angela exclaimed.

Here goes Elizabeth thought and continued to write "All except one thing. Me being scared of turning out like the hell bitch."

"What were you scared about then," Angela asked?

Elizabeth shook her head as if to say wait and then continued to write, "I cannot turn out like the hell bitch, because I AM the hell bitch."

Angela stared at Elizabeth and started to back away, "No! That’s not possible! She’s dead! The tests!"

Fresh tears formed in Elizabeth’s eyes and she stood up and stood in front of a very shocked looking Angela. Elizabeth continued to write.

"Of course she’s dead! BUT every strand of my DNA is the same as HERS."

"But I was told you were a clone of your dad?" Angela replied

Elizabeth scrubbed the writing from her PDA and started to write on a clear screen, "That too was falsified. My dad has an IQ of around 120 while mine is over 160. My brain is exactly the same as HERS, right down to the same flaw that triggered the fury. As for the tests they were rigged in order to cover this up. That’s why I was worried about the rally. If it can happen to HER it can happen to ME!"

"I don’t believe you," Angela was nearly in tears. She had opened herself up, laid herself bare and now was Elizabeth lying to her?

Elizabeth spoke for the first time. Her voice shaking and full of apprehension, "Believe it, " she walked into her bedroom and came out a few seconds later with a bottle of small white pills. "What’s this?" she asked.

"Your asthma medicine. You take it every day," Angela replied.

Elizabeth shook her head and mouthed "Olanzapine"

It was the last word Angela heard before she fainted. The combined trauma of the last few hours, the extreme tiredness she felt and now this revelation was just too much .

o—o—o—

Kat was unable to get to sleep, in spite of her plush surroundings she was finding it hard to get comfortable. She was worried about Elizabeth. She just hoped she’d done the right thing by telling her to trust more, step out in trust to someone and to be a little bit more impulsive. She couldn’t help but worry Elizabeth might do something stupid and ruin everything.

Cathline was due to visit next week and perform her usual counterbalance role. Their bringing up of Elizabeth was entering its most crucial phase, the transition from a girl to a woman.

Her fears were allayed a little by Elizabeth’s room mate Angela. She seemed to be level headed and just the person Elizabeth needed to trust. Kat wasn’t really worried about Elizabeth becoming another Dr Bexley it took an extreme situation to trigger than off, it was more the other side of Elizabeth she was concerned about. Elizabeth’s emotional immaturity was the main issue. Elizabeth had never loved or even had a romantic relationship with anyone. The fear of them hurting her or the other way around ran deep in her. In a way, Kat thought that was their fault. They had hammered home what might happen for so long, had they stifled Elizabeth’s emotional growth?

Kat considered that they had, probably out of their own fear put the fear of God into Elizabeth about her true mother. Should they now withdraw more and let things take their own course? That certainly seemed to be the preferable option. Keep an eye on her and drop in from time to time. Kat though she needed to take some of her own advice. She had to learn to trust that Elizabeth knew what she was doing. Kat checked the bedside clock it was nearly 4am she really must try and get some sleep.

o—o—o—

Elizabeth awoke early the next morning. After carrying the still unconscious Angela to her bed she had just managed to make it to her own bed before collapsing in a heap. That had been one hell of a night! Had her admission ruined the blooming friendship between her and Angela? There was only one way to find out.

"I thought I’d make you breakfast in bed," Elizabeth said carrying in a tray of muslei and a steaming hot cup of coffee.

Angela sat up in bed and took the tray, "Thanks, you needn’t have."

"We need to talk. Not here, somewhere private. Look about last night, I...," Elizabeth started.

"It’s ok. I was just a little shocked that’s all. Let me eat this, throw on some clothes, and we’ll go out for a walk,"

"Deal," Elizabeth smiled. That had gone easier than she expected.

Elizabeth decided that she needed cheering up so she fished out her best Beckham-Kline outfit, straightened out what remained of her hair and applied some makeup. It felt good to feel smart for a change. This living in jeans, cheap skirt-pants, and sweaters was making her feel less like a woman and more like a garage sale.

Angela emerged wearing her standard issue jeans and T shirt she took a mock step back in amazement as she saw Elizabeth standing there looking like a million dollars. From the cut of her skirt-pants to the exquisite cut of her blouse Elizabeth looked every inch the millionaire’s daughter. Angela had never noticed before how Elizabeth’s face had an air of supreme confidence about it, of infallible intellect and of determination to succeed at any cost.

"Ready?" Elizabeth asked.

"You look, you look amazing. I need to change," Angela stated, and turned to go into her room.

"No you don’t! I just wanted to give the non-dowdy me an air, that’s all. Come on, let’s go, I’ve got a lecture at 11." Elizabeth smiled and beckoned for Angela to follow her.

They talked about this and that and Angela nearly blurted her coffee out when Elizabeth told her that her outfit had cost about twenty thousand dollars. To Angela it rubbed in the gulf that was still between them. They reached a secluded cake shop and sat down outside. The summer was wearing a bit thin now but even in this early October day it was pleasantly warm. Elizabeth had gotten wolf whistles and looks from nearly every man they passed. Angela decided that dressing this way was Elizabeth’s attempt to feel normal again. As they sat down and waited for the croissant’s to arrive Elizabeth asked, "Well?"

"Well what?" Angela replied taking a sip of her cappuccino.

"Last night. We need to clear the air. I need to know where we stand?"

"The same as before. I’m sorry for that fainting business—it made it seem worse than it is. I’m not worried about being stabbed while I sleep if that’s what you are concerned about. So my roomie is the hell bitches daughter. So what! You might have been gay, or even worse American!," Angela teased.

"But I am Amer...," Elizabeth started.

"I know you are. I just want you to know that you did the right thing telling me. You’re secret is safe with me. At least you know who your mother is. See, to me, it’s the environment you come from not which set of genes you have. Hell, I could be Dr Bexley’s illegitimate daughter for all I know BUT I do know that I was brought up very well and love my family. It makes no odds to someone who’s adopted which set of genes a person has. It’s who they are that’s the important thing and you young lady are far too well adjusted, clever and compassionate to ever be a hell bitch," Angela saw that her words had had the desired effect. Elizabeth now looked a lot happier than she had before.

"Thanks Angela. I was really worried when I woke up this morning. I was afraid I’d blown it both with you and with the whole cult thing."

Angela shook her head as if to disprove Elizabeth’s statement, "Now I understand why you reacted like you did. Hearing them talk about your parents like that and then them treating you like some kind of goddess must have really spooked you. Knowing who you are makes the whole thing ten times worse."

"So there’s not any part of you that’s the least bit worried about me?" Elizabeth asked.

"Listen witch, I am worried about you but not about the hell bitch thing,"

"Then what!" Elizabeth demanded.

"There’s a very cute guy over there who hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you since we got here and you haven’t even smiled at him," Angela smiled at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth gave Angela A big grin, the relief of being accepted for who she really was like a weight that had been lifted from her. At long last she was starting to feel free of the ghost of Dr Elizabeth Anne Bexley.

o—o—o—

Anne climbed up the ladder into the gently rocking boat. She had spent an exhilarating couple of hours taking samples of invertebrates and coral from the Med. They were always the first to feel the effects of pollution. Her re-breather was almost exhausted, as she was. It wasn’t the shell fish, coral and other invertebrates that gave her the buzz, it was the experience of freedom and of oneness with nature. Wearily she stripped off her wetsuit, revealing her bikini and tanned body. She walked into the laboratory area and saw Steve, her colleague poring over a computer screen.

"How’s it looking?" She asked.

"Not good. Fuel cell number three is playing up. I’m getting a ‘Main Bus B Undervolt’ warning light on the main panel. We should be ok for the trip back but I’ll go look at it in a while. As for the samples, Sulfur levels have risen by nearly eight per cent since 1992. Mercury is up too and as for the O2 content that’s down by four per cent. The Vesuvius eruption back in 08 didn’t help much. Most of this, what we’re seeing here, is down to that. But for these poor guys it doesn’t matter where it comes from. Only that it makes their life a lot harder," Steve gestured to the array of sample jars littering the lab table.

"I know. First of all the bacteria are affected, then the plankton, then the invertebrates and it just cascades down from there and before you know it the whole ecosystem has collapsed. We know what’s going on but with our current tech and funding we can’t stop it. There’s nothing we can do about volcanic activity but what we’re doing to the ocean sure as hell isn’t helping," Anne said bitterly.

"If what we think is happening here is actually happening then we may have a chance to save the ecosystem but it’ll take another twenty years before we can really start work. By the way, how’s the new re-breathers working out?" Steve asked. He cared about the impending collapse of the global marine ecosystems as much as Anne did but Anne was by far the more fanatical about it.

"Great! No mucking around with decompression, heavy tanks or worrying about running out of air. They must have cost a fortune. It’s nearly as good as having gills."

"And of course you’d know what having gills was like?" Steve teased.

"Ok I’ll let you go down next time ok," Anne said taking the hint.

Steve plucked up courage to ask a question he had been dying to ask since he first saw this tall, blonde and stunningly beautiful research student. Even after an exhausting two hour dive she glowed. Steve had to admit that there were elements of a younger Rachel Martin about her but Anne was far more realistic than that image of impossible female perfection.

"Anne?"

"Yep?" Anne replied. She was busy tying her hair back into its characteristic ponytail.

Here goes, Steve thought, "I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me?"

"I have dinner with you every day" Anne replied.

"No! I meant Dinner, candles, restaurant y’know."

"You mean a date?" Anne asked.

Now Steve was even more worried, "umm yes, if you like."

Anne gave Steve a smile, "How do you know I’m not some kind of nightmare cannibal surf babe? You know virtually nothing about me."

"But I want to find out. We’ve been working together for nearly six weeks and you’ve told me nothing about yourself," Steve stated.

"There’s nothing to tell. My parents died several years ago. I’m putting myself thru college using the money they left behind," Anne said. She was not sure at all if she wanted to get back into the dating game, let alone with Steve.

"Ok let me take you out as a friend then." Back to plan B Steve thought.

Anne had an impulsive thought, "No I’ll go as your date. It’s about time I had a little fun."

Steve couldn’t believe his ears, "That’s, that’s great! We’re due back at 6 so I guess I’ll pick you up at 8."

Anne gave Steve a devastating smile, "That’d be great. Now back to business. We’ve got to go back to the traps we sent just back on the continental shelf just off of Netanya. It should only take us a couple of hours to get there. That should give me time to recharge the re-breathers and to have a rest."

"Hey when is it my turn?" Steve complained

"Over dinner. I do the diving, you do the paying," Anne smiled.

Steve shook his head in mock disbelief. How could such a wonderful woman as Anne Baxter ever agree to go out with him? However unlikely it seemed, she just had.

o—o—o—

"Welcome Ms Stephens. Your parents are at a table in the garden atrium," the doorman gestured for Elizabeth to turn to the left.

Elizabeth gave the doorman a thank you smile and walked into the exquisite surroundings of the Langam Hilton. She felt just like the hotel looked, just like a million dollars. Her new outfit was absolutely stunning in conception. It hung on her as though suspended by an invisible thread, went in, and out in all the right places. The slit in the dress up her right leg exposed her shapely thigh, and the fact the dress left her entire back exposed save the curve of her ass made her the image of every teenager’s wet dream. Angela had been blown away by its elegance as she was picked by limousine from outside of her apartment. Angela had asked how much the outfit and hairstyling had cost but Elizabeth had refused. Fifty thousand Euro’s was a lot of money—all Elizabeth would say that it was enough. When getting dressed Elizabeth had noticed she was getting a little out of shape and vowed to spend at least two hours a day in the pool and gym to keep herself in tip top shape.

As she walked into the marble floored atrium she caught sight of Matthew and Kat laughing over a bottle of champagne. At the sight of her Matthew shook his head in mock disapproval while Kat just mouth "WOW".

Elizabeth smiled, she knew she looked wow. It made her feel better. A waiter saw her approach the table, and offered her a seat next to Kat. Elizabeth sat down, poured herself a glass of champagne and breathed a sigh of relief.

"You ok little mite?" Matthew asked.

"Just tired that’s all, " Elizabeth said, taking a sip of the still cold champagne.

"You could have saved some of that fifty grand we gave you. At this rate we’ll be broke and living in single roomed apartment in Delaware," Matthew stated.

"Sorry dad. Mom did say get something nice."

"I’m not telling you off but Angela must have felt awful. There aren’t many students who walk around in designer outfits or go to six star restaurants for meals," Matthew said.

They were interrupted by a very smart looking waiter who passed them the menus, swapped the bottle of champagne for a new one, and then retreated to allow his honored guests some time to consider their choices.

"Why come here? We could’ve gone to a place in Cambridge or New London?" Elizabeth asked.

Kat nodded, "Yes we could have but we wanted to give you a treat. We haven’t seen you for nearly two months and wanted the chance to be a real family again. We’re helping senator Jameson prepare for his presidential campaign, and so as that ramps up we’ll have less and less time to visit you. We’re sorry that we can’t spend all the time with you, but this is important."

Elizabeth understood that Kat was saying ‘you’re a big girl now’. She thought for a few moments, considered all the options and then said, "Mom, Dad, last night I did two very stupid things. Well one was very stupid the other hasn’t turned out too bad so far."

"What did you do? Did you have a fight with Angela?" Kat asked.

"Worse. Angela thought it would be a laugh if we went to a Children of Bexley Rally," Elizabeth said guiltily.

"WHAT!" Matthew roared, and then looked hurriedly around at the rest of the guests staring at them.

"I’m sorry dad. It seemed like a fun thing to do, to get them all wound up, get them back for all the grief they put us thru." Elizabeth knew she’d be in a for hard time but honesty was always the best policy, especially when parents were concerned.

"What happened?" Kat asked, the concern was evident on her face. "Did they hurt you?"

"No, that was the thing. We sat there and listened to their high priest or whatever he’s called. He started saying all these horrible things about you and I just lost it. I stood up and called him a liar."

"Then what did he do?"

"He bowed down and worshipped me. He called me Dr Bexley’s daughter. They don’t know, do they?" Elizabeth said worriedly.

"How can they know? Even a DNA test doesn’t give any hint of who you are. You have to combine a CAT scan with DNA tests in order to pick up the difference in yours and Matthew’s brain structure. We are the only people with that information. What on earth made you do such a stupid stunt?" Kat said, trying to placate Elizabeth’s concern.

"I was trying to step out in trust, be a little impulsive just like you said. Besides, I was getting too old and boring. I needed a thrill," Elizabeth said defensively.

"You get that side from your mother. Then what happened?"

Matthew quipped.

"Angela got spooked, I mean really spooked and dragged me out, then we went home."

"How did you feel when they said those things and when they were worshipping you?" Kat asked curiously.

Elizabeth had heard that tone several times before. It was Kat’s way of acting out of curiosity but not showing the deep heart felt concern she was really feeling. "I felt furious at them. I wanted to take them down for what they were saying about you and then when they were kneeling down in front of me calling me blessed daughter and all that I felt elated. It was as if I was being lifted up into the heavenly realms. Angela pulled me out before I was sucked in any more."

"Sounds as though she did the right thing. You have been taking your asthma medicine haven’t you?" Matthew stated.

"Of course. Look you guys would be mad if you heard what they said and to have four hundred people kneeling in front of you was, shall we say a unique experience," Elizabeth game Matthew a ‘come on I’m ok now’ kind of look.

"So what’s the second stupid thing you did?" Kat asked wearily.

"I told Angela who I really was. She’d opened up to me and told me her innermost secret and I need to trust someone. I’ve chosen her. Are you going to bawl me out about that one?"

Kat shook her head, "No. That’s a positive step. Not that you should be telling everyone, but we trust you’re a good judge of character. I am angry about what they accuse Matthew, Cathline and me of. To answer the other question, yes I would probably have hit the roof. Cathline certainly would. I wouldn’t worry too much about it. As long as you stay away from them you’ll be fine."

"Mom, Dad?" Elizabeth queried.

"Yep?" Matthew asked.

"I love you", Elizabeth said with a tear in her eye. They always had a way of making everything seem much better.

o—o—o—

"GPS makes the spot! We’re here!" Steve called out to Anne, who was busily attaching the small cylindrical re-breathers to the belt of her wetsuit.

"Ok. How far from the coast are we?" Anne called out.

"About forty miles, "It’ll take a couple of hours to get back but this shouldn’t take long. Fuel Cell three still playing up. I’ll have a go at fixing or replacing it while you’re busy with the fishes," Steve said. Had Anne forgotten about their date already?

"If we can get it going it’d be great. I’d hate to be stranded out here with a nice free meal waiting for me, "Anne smiled.

So she hadn’t forgotten. "I thought you’d be paying, seeing as your always saying what a twenty first century woman you are"

Anne gave Steve another heart melting smile, "I may live the third millennium but when it comes to matters of the heart, stomach and especially money I’m strictly second millennium."

Steve gave his best smile in return. It was going well. "Whatever you say dear. Now are we going to get those traps or not?"

"Ok. Want to check everything for me?" Anne asked. When diving alone the cardinal rule was to have someone else check you’re equipment and let them know exactly what you planned to do and go.

"Sure," Steve walked up and started checking Anne’s re-breathers, depth gauge, emergency air, a length of rope, shark repellant, and all the other gear she had on. He tried not to notice how snugly her wetsuit stuck to her skin or how the shape of her was as close to perfection as he could imagine. Now was not the time for distractions—someone’s life depended on how well he checked the equipment. A few moments later he announced, "You’re fine. See you in an hour. I’ll replace fuel cell three while you’ve gone. Bye."

Anne gave the ok signal and climbed down the ladder. After, clearing her mask, ducking underwater and testing the functionality of the re-breathers she gave Steve a last ‘ok’ signal and swam beneath the waves.

It took her almost twenty minutes to reach the crustacean traps they had laid a few days before. The plan was to catch a few lobsters, crabs or octopus and analyze them for signs of being affected by degradation of O2 in the water. One by one they were empty. That was odd, she thought they should have been mostly all full. Surely the population hadn’t degraded that much since the last survey was done a year ago?

After another five minutes she found two traps that contained a lobster each, so she untied them from the mooring anchor and went to inspect the others. They too were empty. She checked her watch; it was time to be heading back. She still had time to have a quick detour, Steve wouldn’t mind. This close to the sea floor there must be something interesting to see. She slowly swam downwards, thankful that she didn’t have to suffer decompression. She swam down until she could hardly see the hand in front of her face. Strange the water shouldn’t be this murky? She switched on the powerful flashlight attached to her wrist and proceeded to explore. What had caused this disturbance?

The water grew ever darker and more churned up as she swam on. Every instinct told her to withdraw. Don’t mess with what you don’t understand was the rule that had been drummed into her. She could feel her heart beat getting quicker and quicker until it seemed to make the water vibrate. She found herself hyperventilating. The re-breathers could only take so much oxygen from the water; if she didn’t calm down she would overload them. She stopped swimming for a few moments to calm herself down—after all the sea was her friend. It and she had been long time companions and she told herself that the bond between them would still be there. This had the desired effect and she then continued on. Suddenly she felt something touch her leg and almost screamed in shock. She whirled around to see what it was and saw only murky water. Steeling herself and overcome with curiosity she swam down to where she thought the object had gone. A few seconds later she saw a large object about six feet in length and very dim in outline. The current was gently carrying it away as though drifting on a breeze. She swam closer to it, shining the flashlight at it all times. Then, right out of the murky water leapt the burned remains of someone’s face. Its skin was almost all gone, as was most of the hair. Anne nearly spat out the regulator in horror. She recognized what remained of the face. It was Steve!

Putting aside her feelings as best she could she swam towards Steve’s body. She had to find out what had happened to him. Now knowing what to expect it was a little easier when she finally managed to get a clear glimpse of his body. A leg was missing, as was most of his chest. Her medical training kicked in, as did her scientific detachment. It was her defense against emotional trauma. Whatever had happened to Steve it had been quick and violent. It must have been some kind of explosion. Her heart sank; she now knew what had caused the water to be all churned up. There had been an explosion on board the boat, it had killed Steve, and as the boat sank it churned up the water around it. She was alone and stranded forty miles from shore.

Forgetting all about the lobster traps she managed to grab hold of Steve’s lifeless arm. She owed it to his family to try and return his body for them. Working as best as she could she tied the rope around his torso and attached the other end to her belt. Feeling the weight of Steve’s body behind her was making her progress slow, and it took her more than half an hour to reach the surface. Anne checked the re-breathers—they now had less than an hours worth of charge left to them. Anne looked around to see if she could find anything worth using as a life raft, but everything of any size had sunk with the boat. Flares, life rafts and everything were now making their way to the bottom of the Mediterranean. There would be no telling where or how deep it was by now. Judging by the lack of flotsam and debris there wouldn’t be much recoverable. She couldn’t even see the emergency mayday beacon that was supposed to deploy in the event of the ship sinking. Anne took her bearings from the sun, checked her wrist compass. There was nothing else for it. With no life preservers, rafts or useable floating material she would have to swim until she was picked up, made it to shore or drowned. There was one option open to her, it was an extreme one and very, very risky but it was she quickly decided, the only viable option left. Taking a deep breath she set out towards the shore.

o—o—o—

 

One Day Later

"That’s odd," Wills commented. Pointing at an entry on his PDA

"What is?" Mark asked.

"This dream woman of yours. She’s never been ill, gone to hospital, had a day off sick or anything," Wills stated.

"So?"

"Just think it’s odd that’s all. Look I’ve pulled down everything I

can find out about her, net white pages everything. Short of

spending all week at this you’ve seen everything about her that I

can find out,"

"Sure, thanks. I owe you one," Mark said. In the last hour or so he’d learned lots about his dream woman. Her real name was Elizabeth Anne Baxter. She’d lost both parents in an auto accident a number of