his own hand.
Even Tom smiled, but he also nudged Eric back to reality with his foot under the desk.
“Eh, what did you do that for?” Eric asked his friendly attacker.
He realised Tom was nodding sideways towards the front of the class, and Eric turned in that direction and froze.
“Ah, glad you could return to us Mr. Peterson” Mr.Higson added sarcastically, which was greeted with sniggers around the class. “Could you answer the question I’ve just posed?” He asked, knowing full well that Eric hadn’t heard it.
“Erm, erm….” Eric stammered, hoping for some inspiration. His head was still lost in the lightning and the flashbacks to the dreams of his dad in the garage. “The question sir?” Eric asked, glancing at Tom at the side of him, who was now repeatedly pointing his eyes down to the desk.
Eric glanced down and saw a sheet of paper with a scribble on it. He spoke the word, even though his mind was in turmoil “Bodmas?” he questioned the meaning.
“Correct Mr. Peterson, I'm positive you're pleased that Mr. Barratt was at least listening.” Mr.Higson commented on the answer. “Now could you tell me what that means?”
Eric sprang back to reality as the thunder cracked in the distance.
Gasps were released around the class, sounding like a tyre deflating.
“Now before pandemonium breaks out once more, we can all clearly see the that the storm is heading on it's merry way to Preston, so let's keep calm and listen to Mr. Peterson’s answer.”
Eric glanced out of the window to see the storm that had been so vicious and black only moments before suddenly lift and clear away.
“Hush now,” Mr.Higson continued, walking between the rows of desks. “It's all over and done with, so, Mr. Peterson, if you please.” He smiled at Eric as he walked towards him.
Eric looked at the word on the paper and also smiled as he answered “Brackets, Of, Division, Multiplication, Addition, Subtraction, Sir.”
“Well done, Mr. Peterson, but next time, I think we'd be grateful if you could please stay within the confines of the class, and not let your mind drift off to another planet, or wherever you'd gone to.” He placed a firm grip on Eric's shoulder. “You may be destined to continue your studies into Quantum Physics, but at the moment we'll stick to me using GCSE Mathematics questions to help me explain a part of Miss Holmes’ General Studies lesson.” He returned to the front of the class, turning to look back at Eric once more. “That is, unless you have a note from your parents to leave Earth's orbit.”
Another series of sniggers rumbled around the room.
Eric's cheeks burned crimson.
“Right, enough of bringing Mr. Peterson down to Earth and let’s thunder on, shall we?” Mr.Higson strained the joke out, resulting in groans from the students. He glanced back at Eric, his favourite pupil, a glimpse of concern flashed across his face but was instantly gone as he carried on the lesson. He'd seen the instinctive way he'd helped Jasmine. It was the same way he could Captain a sports team when things were going awry on the court. Mr.Higson knew that Eric had that ability to be there when required, to get others to follow his lead, and would always try to do the right thing. He also knew of his past, all the teachers had known of it, but he could see that Eric still struggled with it.
Mr.Higson continued with the lesson, but Tom had seen the look on Eric’s face, and knew something wasn’t right. “What’s up mate?” he whispered at his first chance.
“Nothing really.” Eric felt Tom's eyes still on him. “Sorry, I just got lost in the lightning like everyone else.” He added, a weak smile on his face.
“Yeah right, that face wasn’t just because of the lightning, I know that face.” Tom said, then with a concerned look continued. “That was Hoodies, and blue syringes, and flashes, and...” He paused, his voice softening. “Your Dad stuff again.”
“We’ll talk at lunch”. Eric closed the subject to get on with the class, and distract his wayward thoughts for an hour or so.
Unfortunately, their conversation had been overheard and plans were being created elsewhere in the classroom.
Success.
“Is that it?” Harrap quietly voiced his excitement, although he'd been working alone once more well into the early hours. “Yes, yes, it’s working perfectly.” He watched the results on the computer screen, and then he punched the air.
“Well done Sir.” Fink eagerly added his congratulations, making Harrap scream in shock. The porter had crept quietly up to the Scientist, and then waited patiently, watching every move and key stroke that Harrap had made on the computer for over an hour. It had been so easy for him to hover nearby, carefully and secretly watching the results on the screen and listening to what Harrap believed were his personal thoughts. “We all knew you could do it.” Fink’s weak voice and snivelling demeanour hid an infamously treacherous side. He crept up and stood right behind the Scientist.
“Ah!” Harrap yelped in surprise as he saw how close the not so mere porter had got. Quickly composing himself, and not wanting to give Fink the satisfaction of scaring him, he continued. “Well, I think you might be right, so thank you Fink.” Harrap graciously accepted the praise as he turned the screen away from the Porter's gaze, climbing down from the tall metal stool he'd been sat on for many hours. He was the Lead Scientist, knowing his dedication and experience had got him to that position, but also knew it had been Fink who had been the instigator behind so many of his peers being removed from the project over the past few months. “But, let’s not get too eager, until we’re 110% certain that the serum works.” He paused to make sure the results still read perfectly. “But so far on this first trial, all is very well.” He smiled at Fink to help keep him appeased, then turned to the rest of his small team who had been woken up by his scream. They all stood in their clothes, some rubbing their eyes and yawning as he continued. “In actual fact I should thank you all, as it was a wondrous team effort.”
“Oh no sir.” Fink quickly interjected, stepping in front of the curtain that split the living and working quarters, his eyes flashed a moment’s panic as he glanced up to a camera in the corner of the laboratory. “I believe it was you who suggested the changes to the serum, and it was your idea to mix the quantities in such a special way, and you who has spent so many hours working on the serum, running test after test, so it should be just you who should take all the credit, not any of us sir.” He humbly bowed his head and held his hands out towards Harrap to show that he passed all the credit solely to him. This also held back everyone else, leaving Harrap to stand alone.
“Thank you Fink.” Harrap replied sarcastically to the hunched figure ahead of him. Even though he was classed as just a Porter, fetching and carrying test subjects back and forth from the storage units to the laboratory, all the scientists knew that Fink had been tasked by a higher command to be there. It was very quickly understood that his outward position as a mere porter, was there to simply hide his true position to be able to spy on them. They knew he had a direct line of communication to some very powerful leaders, and their work was being closely monitored by every means possible.
“Yes, thank you for passing me all the credit.” Harrap added, then thought or is it the blame you pass, if it goes wrong. He looked at the rest of the team who all watched him sympathetically, knowing his fate if they failed.
“What do we do now, sir?” Fink asked, looking around the scientists as if he was their voice, their leader.
“You can go and do your very important and integral part in the process and place that test subject back into confinement.” He pointed towards the centre of the room where a dead body lay. “We can carry further tests on it later, and then can you please bring in the second one.” He said through clenched teeth, as he hated being so nice to such a deplorable creature.
All the other Scientists stifled their smiles.
“Immediately sir.” Fink gleefully skipped away.
>
Harrap turned back to his computer screen and sighed. His thoughts were in turmoil over the serum. He wanted to use it on at least 10 subjects before releasing the news up the chain of command. Alas, he knew Fink would be leaking that golden snippet of information right at that moment.
The reading’s still looked very impressive. After 2 long years on the project, these were by far the best he’d seen in many tens of thousands of tests that had been carried out. He searched his mind to see if he had any doubts on how successful the serum would be once it was used in earnest, and he found none. Yet he was anxious about letting Eklan know of the good news, for a short while, at least until he could be more certain. At least more certain that it would work as close to 100% as possible.
His worst fear was that Fink was already there ahead of him, reveling in the joy of spreading the good word.
Jibe.
“We need to talk.” Colonel Gordon Kelsall looked at his computer screen.
“And?” The face looking back at him wasn't amused.
“They're back.”
“Who?” The person on the screen wasn't facing him, but looked down as they scribbled away at some paperwork on their desk, disinterested in the conversation, but having to take it as a matter of courtesy.
“The Rexon have come back, and I believe they're after him.”