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"It is unheard of."

"But possible."

"My friend would not be so stupid." There was impatience in the boy's voice, and anger. Flecks of colour—reds and pinks—suffused his image, flaring rhythmically. "It would know there would be no new life. Memory exhalation is not selective; it is all or nothing. If every memory was jettisoned then it could not function. It would be helpless with no idea who or what it was."

"It could learn. Especially if it was connected to another being at the time."

"No!" A sudden blush of dark red lined his image, spread inwards then dissipated. "I will not have this. My friend wouldn't . . ."

The boy went quiet, his image fading into the dazzling white-out. Was he leaving or thinking? Nick prayed for the latter.

"What powers would he have?" asked Louise. "We know he can connect and disconnect and read minds. But what else could he do?"

"Nothing," snapped the boy, pulsing back into life. "Knowledge requires teaching. A being such as you describe would have no knowledge at all."

"Until he discovered them by accident," said Nick. "Trial and error is a powerful teacher."

"For lesser beings perhaps. I think conversing with you has been a mistake. I shall leave."

"Wait!" shouted Nick. "You came here looking for answers. We've given you one that you can check and if we're right your friend's alive. Can you turn your back on that?"

"You are only interested in confusing matters," said the boy.

"But what if we're right? Think about it. You can verify our story. Go to our home planet and take a look. If you're right you'll find nothing but a barren rock."

"And be killed like my friend?"

"Who by?" shouted Louise. "Look at us. If we're dangerous assassins why are we trapped here? Why haven't we killed any of you? We've had plenty of opportunity. And why haven't we escaped? Every time we've tried you've captured us easily. We're no threat."

"And we can help you find your friend. Think about it. You kill us and what have you achieved? Nothing. But what if your friend's still alive? Will consensus allow you to go and search for him or will they say 'keep away, it's too dangerous,' and go back to preaching isolationism and non-interference."

"Read our minds if you don't believe us," urged Louise. "Even if you think our earlier memories were grafted you have to believe what we're thinking now. We can help you. We want to help."

Nick felt a tingle inside his head. He opened his mind, attempting to project an aura of friendship and co-operation.

The silence grew. The boy's face remained impassive, unreadable, floating before them in silent judgement.

Then his image flared and doubled in size, his face looming towards them.

"I will take this gamble," said the boy. "If this Earth of yours does exit. If you can prove to me that your memories of a corporeal existence have not been fabricated . . . then . . ."

Nick waited—was the sentence ever going to end?

"Then you may go."

"Yes!" Louise's scream reverberated through every nook, cranny and recess of Nick's mind. Was it really over?

"You will be restrained until then. Any attempt to escape or communicate with others of your kind will result in immediate termination of this agreement. Is that understood? I will not be taking chances."

"Understood," said Nick and Louise together.

"Then we shall leave now. I will have to flat line your life signs."

Nick was about to say 'what?' when everything went black.

Louise awoke in a panic. Where was everyone? Everything was black.

"We're cloaked," explained Nick. "To avoid detection. We can see out but no one can see us."

Stars appeared, and something else—a nebula? It filled half the sky. Thousands upon thousand of embedded stars floating in a wash of smoky pinks and reds. It was beyond magnificent.

And then it was gone. Back came the void, then a distant disc of blue and green. A planet? The Earth?

"Are we there?" she asked.

"Not yet," said the colonist.

"Why are we here then?" asked Louise, growing concerned. "What planet's this?"

"This is the quickest route to the co-ordinates we were given. Occasionally it passes through what you call 'physical space.' It is nothing to be concerned about."

The planetary disc receded to a tiny speck. Other specks grew and receded in turn. Other planets, other asteroids, other lumps of unsuspecting rocks. Then everything was gone. They were back in the void.

"Isn't this incredible?" said Nick. "We've been stepping back and forth like this for ages."

A light suddenly appeared. Dazzling. They were approaching a brilliant white star at speed. The star ballooning in size and luminosity, washing all other features from the rest of the sky.

"Shouldn't we turn?" she asked, wanting to throw a hand in front of her face and realising for the first time that not only didn't she have any hands but she had no eyelids either. She couldn't close her eyes. She had to watch. The star getting closer and closer and . . .

A flash. White to black. The void. No, not the void. Deep space. A myriad of twinkling stars surrounded them. One of them growing. Was this going to be another kamikaze run at a stellar mass?

A weak watery star turned from pin-prick to small disc. Another disc, yellow and orange, span towards them. A disc with rings. Lots of them.

Saturn? She stared at the planet, dredging back pictures from school books and holodocs. Was it Saturn? Wasn't there supposed to be a great white spot? Or was that Jupiter?

The void returned then back came the stars, one brighter than all the rest.

"Your planet is the third, I think?"

Before anyone could answer, the star disappeared—flash—then reappeared—flash. A cycle repeated several times, each time the star growing in size and intensity. They were stepping in and out of physical space in ten million league strides until . . .

Earth. It could be no other. A blue and white disc. Clouds and continents, oceans. They'd made it! They were home!

Emotion threatened to overwhelm her. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you."

"What do you want to see first?" Nick asked the colonist.

"One of the larger colonies—a city, I think."

"OK, aim for that great blob of cloud and I'll direct you as we go."

"I will take a different route."

Was he really still suspicious? Surely he could see the Earth was a habitable planet? Couldn't he sense the radio traffic, the ring of man-made satellites?

They descended fast, tumbling towards the Atlantic then turning at the last second, zigzagging horizontally then flipping out of physical space altogether.

The colonist was definitely not taking any chances.

The sea appeared, its surface only a matter of feet beneath them as they skimmed over it at the speed of a small plane. It was exhilarating—even for Louise. A ribbon of grey appeared on the horizon. Land? Or a cloud? The ribbon grew and changed colour—yellows, greys and greens. It was land. They veered towards it. A beach appeared, cliffs, a line of tall buildings, a town. Was this a large enough colony?

The colonist slowed and approached hesitantly. Below them, lines of waves threw themselves against a shelving beach of sand and pebbles. A handful of people were walking on the beach, more on the elevated promenade behind. Cars criss-crossed in the distance.

"That's our species," said Nick. "Just like our memories."

The beach disintegrated in a sudden rush of acceleration. Two faces loomed into vision; two people walking their dog. The Colonist circled around them, zooming in and out in fast succession. The dog started barking. Had it seen them? It twisted around on its lead, jumping and barking, much to the annoyance of its owners.

And then it stopped, turned its head on one side, sniffed the air a few times and trotted off as if nothing had happened.

Louise felt a surge of unexpected emotion. Similar to the endorphin rush but different. Was it bleeding through from the colonist? And what was that emotion? It wasn't joy. It was like a wash of contentment or inner peace . . . was the colonist starting to relax and believe them?

Another tangential leap and they were flying up and over cliffs, past lines of hotels and offices, past roads and parks and cars and buses. A spark of recognition. Was this Bournemouth? It looked familiar. She'd holidayed on the South Coast a few times as a child.

The town ballooned in and out of focus. One second, they were flying high above the office blocks, the next, they were down at street level—nose to nose with a man, a woman, a child, a dog. Then they were inside a building, blurring through walls, pausing whenever something piqued the Colonist's interest.

He had a lot of strange interests.

Electrical cables, for one. He liked them. Dogs were another—and they seemed to sense him too. Light fittings were a constant fascination. As were holo-images and goldfish. People were somewhere halfway down the list.

"I have seen enough," he said.

"And?" Louise prompted.

"I sense no danger here. This planet, these people . . . they accord with your memories. But I still need to see you connect and animate one of these corporeals."

Yes! The rest of the journey was lost on Louise. She was free! Or about to be any second. Roads and countryside flew by beneath her. She could hear Nick's words of navigation—intermittent lefts, rights and straight overs. But they were only words. She was free. And she had a smile that stretched all the way to Saturn.

She was still smiling when they cleared the Rectory's garden wall

"Are you still with us, Lou?"

"I'm here," she said. But not for much longer. A few seconds more and she'd be reunited with her body. The Louise that she'd grown up with, the Louise that smiled back from morning mirrors and family snaps.

They passed through the apartment window. Slowing to a crawl as the colonist pushed them into the room. And let go.

"You are now able to move."

Two bodies lay impassive on their beds, just as they'd left them.

"Thank God for that," said Nick. "I thought Adam might have had us moved to a hospital by now."

Louise hadn't thought of that. And she wasn't going to now. There'd be plenty of time to panic over what might have happened. In the meantime, nothing was going to spoil this moment. She was free and about to be reunited with a long lost friend.

Louise lined herself up with the top of her head. Hovered for a while, one last look at that peaceful, slow-breathing body. And then she descended. Slowly, carefully . . . successfully.

The world sprang into sharp focus. She could see, she could hear, she could move . . .

She could feel pain.

Ow! She'd tried to raise her head too quickly and her neck felt like it was attached to a lead weight. And her arms felt stiff. And her right leg had gone into spasm. Ow, ow, ow! She hopped off the bed, feeling slow and stiff. Instantaneous speed and graceful flight replaced by stuttering joints and a ponderous lurch.

She rubbed her legs and unclipped the remaining LSU leads. She felt like a giant awakening from a hundred-year sleep.

Nick didn't look any better, sitting opposite, bleary-eyed, stretching. She caught his eye and smiled. He smiled back and held out a hand.

"You'll have to help me up," he said. "I'm getting too old for this."

She pulled him up. "Can you hear us?" he asked, staring up at the ceiling.

"I can hear you," came the reply, fainter than before but still unmistakably the colonist. And still originating from inside Louise's head.

"Can you sense your friend?" Nick asked.

"No. This Earth of yours has a large population. Many signatures. I will return with help. You promised to help also."

"We will," said Nick.

"Take this sign." An image burned inside Louise's head. The triangle within a circle. "If you find anything, project this pictogram upwards into your atmosphere. Hold the image as long as you can and concentrate hard. If we see it, we will find you."

"What if you don't come?" asked Louise.

Silence.

"I think he's gone," said Nick.

Louise coughed. Her throat felt like sandpaper, she could murder a glass of water. And food too, she couldn't have had anything solid for—she checked her watch—a week! They'd been gone a whole week!

She stopped halfway towards the kitchen and ran back towards Nick, threw her arms around him and hugged him.

"We did it!" she said, a silly grin on her face. They were home and they were alive.

His arms closed around her and squeezed tight.

"Not all of it, Lou. The interesting part's just beginning."

Suzi Martinez had had enough. She hadn't joined the John Bruce campaign to be ignored and pushed around all day by that little pimp Arnie Fredericks. Who did he think he was? And what was a man like Bruce doing relying on a sleaze like Fredericks? There had to be a hundred better campaign managers.

She stomped along the fourteenth floor, head down and ready to snap the head off the first moron who smiled a good day at her. Vacuous bible-bashers; the campaign was crawling with them.

To think she gave up a whole semester to work for Bruce. And for what? Did she get to talk to him, to discuss the great topics of the day, to put forward her ideas? She had so much to give and he'd seemed like the only candidate prepared to listen but she couldn't get near him. Arnie saw to that. More protective than a mother hen—shooing people away whenever Bruce looked like opening up.

What was it with that man? Was he jealous or something? Every time Bruce started to relax Arnie'd be in there pushing people out of doors, shoving them into corridors and growling at them like some obsessive guard dog. Well, he wouldn't be doing that to her any more.

God, her father would make life hell when he found out. I warned you about that man, he'd say—all wagging fingers and didn't-I-know-best. As though he'd never made a mistake. Now you get back to college, my girl, and pray they'll take you back. The hell she would. She had people to see first. People who would be very interested in what she had to say.