A Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons story for Christmas,

by

Chapter One:  Living with an alien - 2068

When Captain Scarlet was discharged from Sick Bay after recovering from another serious injury, he made his way to the Officers’ Lounge as usual.  Doctor Fawn had finally given in to his demands to return to his own quarters, but in a parting reminder of his ultimate authority over all Spectrum personnel, he had also refused to grant permission for Scarlet to go on duty for another 24 hours.   At something of a loss what to do with this unexpected leave, Scarlet was certain that he wanted to get away from Cloudbase, just in case Fawn decided to recall him for another round of his never-ending tests. 

He nodded greetings to the crewmen he passed on his way and wondered if he could find anyone willing to go with him; and where to go.  Since the kidnapping of the World President and its aftermath, he had rarely gone home to Winchester, and given that he was forbidden to explain to his family what had happened to him, he felt like a fraud and an imposter.  This made it impossible for him to relate to his parents and siblings in the same way as before. 

Captain Grey was alone when he walked in.

“Hi; you’re up and about then?”

Scarlet nodded.  “With a whole 24 hours at my disposal.  Fancy some shore-leave?”

“I wish.  I’m on command duty.  Ochre and Magenta are out on investigations and the colonel’s due to attend a high-level conference at Futura.  I got the short straw.”

“Where’s Blue?”

“Isn’t he with you?” 

Scarlet shook his head. 

“Not sure then.  Have you tried the Amber Room?” Grey chuckled.

Scarlet rolled his eyes.  “I wouldn’t want to cramp his style.  I wonder if he’s planning to spend the next 24 hours romancing.”

“Ask him,” Grey said, nodding towards the door.

Scarlet turned and saw Blue standing there, with a travel bag in his hand. 

“Ask him what?” Blue said, dropping his bag and walking to his pigeon-hole to check his mail.

“I’m on 24 hours’ furlough and I’ve got nothing to do,” Scarlet explained. “If you’re free – and from the presence of your luggage, I deduce that you are – I thought you might fancy coming somewhere with me.”  Sounding alarmingly plaintive he added, “It’s my birthday tomorrow, you see?”

Blue suppressed a smile.  “You’re nothing but a fidget, Paul.”

“I take it that’s a yes?”  Scarlet said, grinning; the use of his Christian name was a sure-fire sign that Blue was in an accommodating mood.

“Not exactly.  I don’t think I can go with you,” Blue said, without looking up from the letter he was perusing, “but if you hurry you can come to Boston with me.” 

He had received the news from Fawn that Scarlet was about to be released and given ‘shore’ leave, before the doctor had actually told Scarlet.  Being well used to such sudden changes in plans, and Scarlet’s inability to just do nothing for more than a few minutes at a time, Blue was already prepared.

 “Give me 20 minutes and I’ll be with you.”

“Unless you’re at the hangar in 10 you won’t be.  The last shuttle leaves in 15 minutes,” Blue called after him, as his field partner sprinted for the door.

“You’ll get them to wait for him, of course,” Grey stated, grinning.

“I’ll never hear the last of it if I don’t.”

Grey knew that Blue did not return to Boston all that willingly, although he did not know why his colleague was estranged from his family. Curiously he asked:  “Why’re you going home?”

Blue shrugged and admitted,   “Primarily because today the last shuttle is the Atlantic airport one, so, if I wanted to go anywhere else, I’d have to fly on from there, and for 24 hours it isn’t worth it.”

“Not much of a break for you, is it?  I mean, spending your leave with Scarlet and your family,” Grey remarked sympathetically.  “Doesn’t it bug you that you’re still having to keep an eye on him?”

“Who wouldn’t want to spend 24 hours in the bosom of their loving family, while playing nursemaid to an alien? Never mind a hyperactive one with a birthday to celebrate.” Blue’s tone of resignation was mirrored by the look on his face.

“How long have you got?” Grey replied sympathetically, with atypical irony.

***

Scarlet scanned his bathroom cabinet for the last few remaining necessities and dropped them into a wash-bag.  He wondered if Blue’s invitation to stay with his family was intended as a gesture of friendliness, or as a way of ensuring that his mother remained less openly critical of what she perceived to be her son’s persistent failings. 

‘Well,’ he thought, ‘I owe him enough to act as his outrider – for once.’ 

He had come to trust the American appointed as his primary partner since the momentous events at the London Car-Vu.  In fact, Blue had proved to be an excellent partner, and Scarlet now considered him as a trusted friend.  But, despite their spending much of the time in each other’s company, Blue remained inherently reticent about his private life; especially, Scarlet considered, when it came to feelings or emotions.  He hoped that seeing Blue with his family again would give him a greater insight into the man.

‘Not that I am much different,’ he thought, ‘I don’t like to talk about myself; well, not any more.’

After his Mysteronisation, and the revelation that he was, in Doctor Fawn’s portentous words, ‘virtually indestructible’ owing to the Mysterons’ ‘gift’ of retrometabolism, another of Fawn’s words, Scarlet had felt himself set apart from the other elite Spectrum officers.  He flushed at the thought and felt the familiar wave of sadness well up in his heart.  Blue ensured that everything remained calm and civilised between him and the officers and the Angels, but he still believed that his colleagues retained a residual doubt about his loyalty to Spectrum and the possibility that he would revert to the Mysterons’ control had, by no means, been discounted.  

Scarlet sighed and made a conscious effort to pull himself together by recalling the positive aspects of his life.

Since Colonel White had made them field partners, Blue and he had worked closely together on the numerous threats the Mysterons had issued.  By sheer hard work, and a certain amount of good luck, they had survived countless attempts on their lives.  Every time he’d been injured – or killed – Blue had flown him back to Cloudbase and the effective, if somewhat impersonal, ministrations of Doctor Fawn. 

Not everything had been an unqualified success, of course, and even successful missions had some elements of regret in them.  Four of them had gone undercover in Monte Carlo, and although this was another instance when Destiny had more or less frozen him out, Symphony had shown herself more than willing to enjoy his attentions.  The mini-safari Blue and he had enjoyed, as part of a mission to test some of the latest anti-Mysteron gadgetry Spectrum Intelligence had developed, had been very relaxing, until the Mysterons had attacked and killed Captain Indigo. 

He shook his head sadly at the memory of his old friend and decided to review their unqualified successes by way of a pick-me-up.  The colonel had been almost complimentary about those missions. 

Nevertheless, there were times when even their successful missions had placed his relationship with Captain Blue under serious strain.  The worst instance had been while trying to prevent the Mysterons from poisoning Los Angeles’ water supply and the two of them had been suspected of being infected by a deadly bacillus.  The hours in the Isolation Ward on Cloudbase had dragged by as Blue had retreated into himself and hardly spoken a word.  It had only dawned on Scarlet later, that the fact they were quarantined together had ignored the possibility that if only one of them had been infected, they would soon both be, and, once infected, Blue could not survive, although – presumably - he would.  It wasn’t often Doctor Fawn was so unthinkingly callous about the circumstances they encountered.

His solo undercover mission when the colonel had, apparently, cashiered him from Spectrum for unpaid gambling debts, had not gone down well with Blue either.  It had been days before the American had accepted that it was not a serious failure of trust on Scarlet’s part that had prevented him from enlightening his partner about the true purpose of his actions, but direct orders from Colonel White.   Blue had stayed mad for some time and Scarlet had only really understood that he was ‘forgiven’ when Blue had disobeyed a direct order from Cloudbase.   He had chosen to stay while they worked through an interminable list of potential code words for instigating the destruction of an armed rocket, which was homing in on the base they were at. 

Off-duty, they had spent a great deal of their time together, partly due to Scarlet’s uneasiness in the presence of the other officers – most especially the Angels. Scarlet occasionally sensed that Blue, who wasn’t naturally gregarious, had grown impatient with this apparent neediness but he’d never refused Scarlet the company he sought. So, although their friendship wasn’t without its ups and downs, they had grown used to each other, and this provided with the solid companionship Scarlet needed to cope with the trauma of his indestructibility. 

Now, pausing long enough to check his appearance in the long mirror on the wall beside the wardrobe, he grabbed his overnight bag and raced towards the Hangar Decks.

***

The Christmas decorations at the Boston house were as tasteful as a show home from any aspirational homes magazine spread, and, Scarlet thought, about as emotionally satisfying.  His own Winchester home was always a riot for the senses at Christmas, with shiny decorations and coloured lights, and he had never been a fan of the pure white minimalist décor on display here.  He found it somewhat chilling and more sobering rather than welcoming. 

 Mrs Phelps’s welcome was casual but as sincere as she ever got. 

“How nice to see you… again, Paul.” 

Languidly, she extended her hand and he shook it gently; he was always afraid anything more vigorous would result in her extreme displeasure. 

Martha was visiting and her welcome was far more enthusiastic.  Once her mother had transferred her attention to her son, she said: “You must be psychic, Paul; Cori’ll be here later.  She’s got a shoot, out at the Cape.”

“Really?  As you say, it must be a psychic link.” 

He grinned and turned to tell his friend.  Blue was listening to his mother reciting a catalogue of woes and grievances, with the expression on his face that Scarlet had long ago catalogued as ‘martyrdom’, so he left them to it and followed Martha to the kitchen to collect some coffee. 

“I guess you haven’t had much chance to see Cori lately?  You and Adam must’ve been busy?  There seems such a lot of trouble in the world right now.  We all get worried about you both.”

“Oh, we manage okay; you shouldn’t worry… about me, anyway,” he added to himself. 

“Adam says as much, but it isn’t easy advice to follow.  Anyway, I’m sure Cori will be delighted to see you.”

“As I will to see her.”

Martha handed him a mug of coffee and placed a hand on his arm.  “You’re good for her, Paul, and I hope you know that we all – all – recognise that.”

He flushed and smiled. “I think she’s great; I like her very much.”

 “She told me about your visit to New York. Sounds like you both had a great time.”  Martha smiled back.  “Anyway, we’d better take Addie his coffee.  If Momma’s still lecturing him his patience will be wearing thin.”

“We wouldn’t want that to happen,” Scarlet remarked ruefully.  

He could recall several instances when Blue’s professional proficiency had led him to express his dissatisfaction with certain members of the support staff.  Never one to suffer fools gladly, and firmly wedded to the rule book, Blue was not the easiest officer to serve under. Moreover, his blunt comments had made those certain staff members unwilling to work under his command; a fact the colonel, although he deplored that it was the case, had to take into consideration.  Thankfully, Blue’s exasperation never extended to his fellow officers, although they’d all learnt to tread on egg-shells when those expressive, pale-blue eyes were glowering. 

Yet, Scarlet considered that, whatever his mood whenever they worked together, Blue was always a co-operative and supportive partner, even when, as he often did, he disagreed with Scarlet’s decisions.

Following Martha out of the kitchen, Scarlet reflected on Blue’s impatience with anybody who didn’t look as if they were trying to do their best, whatever the situation, and the image of Mrs Phelps’ face flashed into his mind.  

‘Yes,’ he thought, ‘I can see where that tendency to lose patience with any perceived lack of commitment comes from, right enough.’

Obviously grateful for the interruption, Blue accepted the coffee from Martha and went to sit across the room from his mother. 

“I was telling Paul that Corinna’s coming today,” Martha explained.  “I said he must be psychic.”

“Is she?  How’s she keeping?” Blue asked.

“Last time I saw her I thought she was looking well.  I went down to New York, the day before that security building was bombed, and we spent some time shopping.” 

“I wanted her to come home with Martha after that happened,” Mrs Phelps said.  “I don’t want her staying in such a dangerous city, but, of course, my concerns were ignored.”

“Mom, all cities are dangerous; even crossing a road can be lethal, especially in Boston,” Blue remarked.

 “London’s as bad,” Scarlet volunteered.

“Worse,” Blue reasoned.  “You all drive on the wrong side of the road, for starters.”

Scarlet chuckled.  “Strange; we say the same about you.”

“I wish that my children would stay where I can be sure they’re safe,” Mrs Phelps said, ignoring this exchange.  “Instead they go all over the world, and then say they’re too busy to come home.”

“I haven’t gone anywhere,” Martha pointed out, “and Luc’s not far away, so 50 percent of us are still local, Mom.”

“And I’m home every chance I get,” Blue said, with a sigh. “We’re busy and short-handed and I don’t work a standard 9-5 Monday to Friday.  Ask Paul, if you don’t believe me.”

“Yeah, we’ve been very busy, Mrs Phelps.”

“I know my wishes carry no weight with anyone-”

“Now that’s just plain ridiculous!” Blue interjected.

“Mom!  We all dance attendance on your wishes,” Martha protested in unison with her brother.

“None of you understand the anxieties I suffer on your behalves…”

Blue dropped his head into his hands.  “I said I was sorry I missed your birthday.  I was in Australia at the time and there was a fire…. I called as soon as I could when I got back to base.”

“And is that supposed to reassure me that you’re safe?”  Mrs Phelps stood and looked down at her son.  “You have no sympathy for my shattered nerves, Adam.  Nobody does.  No!  I’m not going to discuss it!  I’m going to try and rest before Frederick gets home.” 

As the door closed behind her, Blue banged his head into the back of his armchair several times. 

“I give up,” he muttered.

“I should,” Martha consoled him.  “Nothing will ever satisfy her, you know that.  If you were living at home she’d be complaining that she never gets any peace.”

Blue looked at Scarlet.  “And you wonder why I’m reluctant to come home more than I absolutely have to?”

“Not any more,” Scarlet assured him, with a sympathetic smile. 

Martha glanced at the clock. 

“Oh no; look at the time! I’d better go and collect my kids.  Before I forget: I have an invitation for you, if you want something to do tomorrow, Addie.  Phil has invited the family to attend a live recording of Rafe Elderslie’s new work, at the studios tomorrow.  Would you and Paul like to come?”

“A new work?  That sounds exciting.  Interested, Paul?”

“Oh, sure.” 

Scarlet was not a dedicated music lover, but even he’d heard of Elderslie: a musical genius who had initially, or so the marketing ran, become famous through merit rather than hype.  Now the hype was about just how ascetic a genius he was.  He even had a copy of Elderslie’s ground-breaking debut work somewhere in his music collection and, rather to his surprise, he’d come across Captain Black alone in the Officers’ Lounge listening to ‘Earth’s Shadows’, just before he set out for Mars. 

“Elderslie said he wanted a small audience present while he recorded the piece, to ‘enhance the atmosphere’, so it won’t be a big gathering and Phil thought we’d enjoy going. I asked Mom if she’d like to come, but she said her nerves weren’t up to it,” Martha continued, rolling her eyes.  “However, Cori’s said she wants to go; I think that’s why she’s coming here today instead of going back to New York, if I’m honest.  Phil’s reserved us a box, so the more the merrier, as they say.”

She smiled at the two young men.

“Great,” Blue replied.  “Let me have the details, Marti, and we’ll be there.”

***

Corinna arrived as they were finishing their evening meal. 

“Sorry I’m so late,” she said, smiling broadly at the sight of Scarlet.  “Paul!  I’d have hurried if I’d known you were going to be here.”

“Hello, Cori, nice to see you too,” Blue said, ducking the dismissive cuff she gave his head as she walked past. 

“I’ll get you something to eat,” Mrs Phelps said, rising from her chair.

“Don’t bother, Mom; I ate on the way here. I’ll just have some coffee.”

“What did you eat?”

“What?  Oh, I had a burger and fries and a hot chocolate with whipped cream.”

“Corinna…” her mother said distrustfully.

“No, honestly, I did. It was so damn cold out at the Cape that the photographer stopped and bought them for everyone on the drive back.” 

She slipped into a seat beside Scarlet and studied his face intently.  “Hiya, Handsome…”

“Hello, Gorgeous.”

“I think we’re ‘de trop’,” Frederick Phelps rumbled in his deep voice.  “Let’s have coffee in the den, Elizabeth; there’s a show I want to see starting in a few minutes.  Coming, Adam?”

Blue shook his head.  “I’m gonna call Dad and say hi.  He wasn’t in when I called before.   I may join you later.”

He poured himself a coffee but made no move to leave.

“Hey, Bro, didn’t you hear Freddie?  Scram.”  

Even Scarlet could tell that Corinna was only partly teasing.

“Are you coming to the recording tomorrow?” Blue asked, ignoring the hint.

“You bet!  It has to be the musical highlight of the year.  Elderslie hasn’t produced anything new for the best part of the decade.  Are you coming?”  She was looking at Paul. 

He nodded. “Martha invited us both.”

“Great.  How long are you staying for?”

“We have to go back tomorrow evening,” he explained.  “I’m afraid our workload is pretty heavy at the moment.”

“That’s too bad.  Still, we have this evening.”  She took his hand. “And if I haven’t got my facts screwed, someone has a birthday tomorrow… We’ll have to see what we can rustle up for a suitable present… given that tomorrow starts at midnight…”

Blue’s coffee cup clattered into its saucer. “Right… this gooseberry’s going to make himself scarce.  Behave…”

“’Night, Addie…”

Scarlet watched his partner leave the room and then glanced at Corinna.  “I don’t think he approves…”

“He doesn’t have a leg to stand on.  My kid brother, the babe-magnet.  Believe me, he’s no saint.”

Scarlet chuckled.  “And what am I?”

She laughed and moved to the sofa, patting the space beside her, she said:   “Paul, do you really need me to tell you that you’re a real hottie? Maybe I should just prove it?”

She leant across and kissed him as he sat down.  “This is going to be such a great day or so.  I was already looking forward to the recording tomorrow.”

“You like Elderslie’s work?”

“Doesn’t everyone?  I met him once, years ago, at one of FloLyn’s star-studded parties in New York.  He isn’t the recluse everyone thinks, you know?  He was charming, if a little egocentric.  But then I guess all geniuses are that way, just look at Floyd.  I bet Elderslie won’t remember me.”

“You’ll be surprised,” Scarlet said. “After all, you’re a very beautiful woman.  I bet he’ll remember you.”

“You think I’m beautiful, Paul?”

To his surprise she was blushing and the question appeared to be a genuine one. 

“Yes, I do.”

She smiled and looked away.  “That’s nice.”

“You must hear it all the time.”

She shook her head.  “No; but then the fashion industry is misogynistic and all too often the men there are either Gay – which is okay - or such chauvinists they consider women merely as commodities – which isn’t.  It’s all lose weight, dye your hair, paint your face, strip off and smoulder…  I’m glad I’m getting to an age where they won’t want me for those kind of shoots any more.”

“I’m an ignoramus about such things, although I did meet a couple of models once.  They said they worked for the House of Verdain, in France, only I heard that they’d died in that terrible monorail crash recently.”

“I heard about that from some of the girls.  It was awful.  I didn’t know the two girls myself; I’m a freelance rather than attached to a particular Fashion House.”

She rested her hand on his thigh as she gazed pensively into the distance, considering the fate of those unknown models.  He knew he could never tell her that the two women had been Mysteronised and then attempted to kill the Controller of the European Area Intelligence Service, Andre Verdain, who used the eponymous fashion company as cover. 

He placed his hand over hers.  “Thank goodness it wasn’t you.”

She turned to look at him and their eyes met: hers were the same cool grey-blue as her brother’s, while his were an intense sapphire-blue, but each was showing the same excitement.  Inexorably, they drew closer together and he was intoxicated by the delicate perfume she was wearing.  His lips brushed her cheek and then, as she turned her face to his, their lips locked in a passionate kiss.

He raised his hand to brush her hair away from her neck and broke away to plant kisses down her long neck to the hollow above her breasts.  His hand moved to encircle one breast, and he felt her heart thumping as she gave a sigh.  They spent a few moments more becoming reacquainted, but the sofa was not the most comfortable place to get physical and, after a matter of minutes, Corinna made a suggestion and stood up, holding out her hand to him. 

He followed her upstairs.  There was really nothing coy about her, which he found refreshing.  Surely, if she wasn’t intimidated at being in her mother’s house, then there was nothing to worry about, and she had been the one to initiate the foreplay. He knew that after so long apart from her, he would find it difficult to stop what they’d already started.

Corinna’s room was on the same floor as her brother’s, at the top and the front of the house, overlooking the street.  In addition to a large bed, there was a workstation and chair, along with a cane sofa.  When she flicked a switch and the lighting came on, it was subtle and intimate. 

Corinna sat on the sofa and he sat beside her, suddenly hesitant but aching to touch her.  To his chagrin he heard himself asking:

“Are you sure your mother won’t object?”

“Do you want me to ask her permission?” She was amused.  “Paul, darling Paul, I’m 36; I don’t need her permission and neither do you.”

He was momentarily distracted by fumbling with the fastening of her dress.  “You certainly don’t look it; but I’ve always had a thing for older women…” he teased.

She gave a throaty chuckle.  “And I really go for handsome toy-boys, so we’re obviously well suited.  But are you going to spend all night discussing our ages?”

Scarlet shook his head very definitely and devoted the whole of his attention to the woman beside him. 

It had been a long time since their last tryst in New York, and his encounter with Symphony in Monte Carlo seemed like an age ago.  Now he had this beautiful woman as anxious as he was to enjoy all the pleasures of intimacy, he felt exalted.  He knew Corinna was demanding and experienced with a direct and honest attitude to her desires, wishes and needs, which he appreciated.  He banished all self-consciousness and entered into what grew into a night of energetic, exhilarating and exhaustive love-making. 

***

Scarlet stretched and yawned, staring out of the window.  It was still dark, but he remembered the weather report he’d seen before they left the SPJ forecasting a fine, if cold, day.  It felt good to be alive.  Beside him Cori was still sleeping, her blonde hair spread out across the pillow, except for one strand that followed the curve of her shoulder and tumbled across her breasts.  

He rarely slept at all these days and glancing at the bedside clock he could see that it was almost 5:30. 

A veritable lie-in, he thought happily.  

But it wasn’t in his nature to lie still once he was awake, and, having ascertained that Corinna wasn’t about to wake up at any moment, he slid from the bed and headed for the bathroom.  When he came back, he was pleased to see that she was awake and sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I wondered where you’d gone,” she said.

“Did you think I’d made a dash for it, rather than face your mother and Adam over breakfast?”

She shook her head.  “Not unless you went stark naked.”

She nodded towards the pile of his clothes still on the floor where he’d left them in his haste to get into bed.  She went into the bathroom while he picked up his clothes.  He wondered if he should start to dress, or if she had other plans; in the end he put his clothes on a chair and got back into bed, leaving the quilt low across his belly and waited to see what might happen next.

Corinna reappeared and approached the bed.

“Happy birthday, darling,” she said and sat beside him, stroking his dark hair and tracing the contours of his body with her fingertips until they delved under the quilt. 

Her lips met his as her fingers encircled his aroused penis.  He pulled her down on top of him and surrendered once again to the libidinal urge that swept through him. 

Some time later, somewhere nearby, a phone rang. Unwillingly, he concentrated and heard Cori’s mumbled, “What?”

She slammed the phone down and moments later informed him that if they wanted breakfast it was being served in the dining room.

***

 The dining room was empty when they arrived and breakfast was going to consist of a forlorn piece of toast, or the dregs of some milk on a bowl of breakfast cereal.   It didn’t matter to Scarlet, whose appetite was minimal except after a regeneration, so he poured a cup of coffee from a large silver pot and added a drop of milk: it was stewed.

Corinna walked out of the dining room and, when she did not return he left the coffee unfinished and went to find someone – anyone.  His sharp hearing picked up voices coming from the drawing room, so he pushed through the slightly-open door and peered round. 

Cori was in the small conservatory with Blue; she was standing between him and the doorway.  Even though he ducked back, so that he was hidden by the door, Scarlet found that he could hear their conversation all too clearly. 

“What did you think you were doing?” Blue asked her.

“Nothing.”

“Oh, come on; I wasn’t born yesterday.  What were you doing with Paul?”

“Oh, am I queering your pitch?”

“For Chrissake, Corinna; can’t you ever let go of that?”

“Why should I?  You’re the one who keeps reminding me about it.”

“Whatever.”  Blue sounded tired of the subject.  “What were y’doing?”

“What business is it of yours? Or are you asking for a blow-by-blow account? And I use the word advisedly.”

“Corinna!  You know Mom’ll go postal if she finds out you were sleeping with him.  I don’t care, but I don’t want her getting at Paul, or at you, or, for that matter, at me for bringing him here. I covered for you both at breakfast; you’re lucky; as she and Fred were going out she didn’t press the matter.”

“Oh – screw Mom!  This isn’t about her.  You’re just annoyed that I’m having a good time with your special friend!”

“Paul is not my special friend – as you call it – he’s just a friend!  Okay?  Look, Cori; I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“When are you going to realise that I don’t need you to run my life for me?”

“Maybe not; but you don’t know what’s been going on.  Paul’s been through a lot since he was last here.  There’ve been major changes in his life, even since you saw last him in New York.  He’s had to adapt and… it hasn’t been easy for him.  He’s… vulnerable, right now.”

She was incredulous.  “He’s a grown man, Adam; let him fight his own battles.  I’m not out to hurt him – why would I?  I like him.  For your information, I also trust him not to hurt me.  He’s a very kind and considerate man; which is more than you are, Addie.   Besides, if he didn’t want to join me last night I wouldn’t have forced him. He could’ve always said no and slept in his own room.”

“Oh, he wanted to, that was obvious.”

“You know what?  So did I; and, what’s more, I’m not so hypocritical to screw him in New York but not at home. Neither you nor Mom have the right to criticise me.”

 “Cori, I can’t explain.  All I ask is that, please… just think before you let this go too far.” 

“I’m not some coy virginal flower and nor is Paul.  We knew what we were doing; we’ve done it before, you know? So keep your long nose out of our business from now on. It has nothing to do with you.”

“Cori - you don’t understand.  Things have changed-”

“You’re such a killjoy, Adam.  Not to mention a damned hypocrite; you don’t practice what you preach, do you?”

“When have you ever known me sow my wild oats at home?  Besides, I’m not saying ‘don’t’ – I’m saying, ‘be careful’.”

“Listen to yourself: you sound like some po-faced public health broadcast!  Well, let me tell you, Adam Svenson: right now, my life sucks!  But I don’t suppose you consider it at all relevant that I really needed someone to care about me last night?  After a day being pawed about like dead meat by a photographer who assumed my IQ matched my bra size, some consensual sex, with a man who thinks I’m beautiful and realises I’m a person and not just a body, was perfect.  I like Paul a lot: I wanted him, and, from what you say, he needed a damn good screw too.   Believe me, he got more than one!  What harm’s done?” 

“Just… oh, what the hell; I don’t know how to make you understand.  Just don’t blame me if it all goes pear-shaped.”

“I never do, little brother, whatever the provocation.”

Upset by what he was hearing, but acutely aware that he shouldn’t be eavesdropping, Scarlet moved away and, once back out in the corridor, called:  “Adam?  Cori?”

Moments later, he heard her call and made his formal entry into the room in time to see her walking towards him.   She took his hands, smiled and said she was going to make fresh coffee, before kissing his cheek and leaving him. 

He watched her go and then turned towards his colleague.

Blue had remained in the conservatory, but he was deliberately avoiding looking at him.   Feeling the need to clear the air, Scarlet joined him, sitting beside his friend on the cane sofa in the shadow of the perfectly symmetrically decorated Christmas tree.  After a moment’s hesitation, he said:

“What the hell’s bugging you?”

Realising that Scarlet must have overheard at least part of their conversation, which had been conducted with some vehemence on both sides, Blue replied, “You don’t need me to tell you.”

“You’ve never said it bugs you I’ve been sleeping with Cori; and don’t say you didn’t know.”

Blue shrugged and shook his head.  “I knew.”  He didn’t look at Scarlet as he tried to explain: “I’m not my sister’s keeper; she’s old and ugly enough to make her own decisions. We all are, even if we regret some of them afterwards.”

“I’m sensing one huge great ‘but’ here.”

 Blue shook his head again.

“Look, if you want the truth, I guess I didn’t care that Paul Metcalfe was sleeping with my sister, but… well, and I hate to say this, Captain Scarlet is a different matter.  You don’t know what they’ve done to you…”

The words bludgeoned their way into Scarlet’s brain and it took a moment for him to get over the initial shock.  Anger surged through him and he snapped:

“You mean I could be contagious?  Retrometabolism as a sexually transmitted disease… I wonder if Fawn’s thought of that one.”

“Shit, Paul! You’re not helping here.  Try to understand, I don’t want my sister to be some kind of guinea pig; she gets hurt too easily.”

Scarlet’s hurt was all too apparent in his voice as he replied: “You’re the man who told me Captain Scarlet was Paul Metcalfe. You made it plain that you considered me to be the same man.  I thought you’d accepted me for what I am.  I thought we were friends.”

“We are.  I can make an informed decision and for me nothing’s changed; but Cori doesn’t know enough to make that decision – does she?”

“You mean, did I say, ‘before you let me screw you again, you should know I’m an alien now’?  No, I didn’t say that.  It never occurred to me; my mind was on something else entirely.”

Blue still couldn’t meet his friend’s accusing gaze.  He stared at his long fingers and after what seemed to them both like a considerable time, he said, “I can’t help what I feel.  It doesn’t make any more sense to me than it does to you, but I thought it best to be honest with you. I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” 

Scarlet stood up and continued: “You’re right that honesty is best between us; so maybe it’ll be some help when I tell you I screwed Symphony in Monte Carlo.  And she’s still human….”

Blue looked up with a wry smirk.  “No, that doesn’t help.”

“Then I can’t help you, Adam.  You’ll have to deal with this on your own because, let me make this quite clear: as long as Corinna wants me to, I intend to stick around.” 

Scarlet turned on his heel and walked away.

Chapter Two

Martha Dufresne arrived to collect them all for the trip to the recording studio about an hour later.  If she noticed any coldness in the atmosphere she kept it to herself, but she took in Adam’s pale face and the dark rings under his eyes and asked:

“You sober?”  

“As a judge, Marti.”

“Drive.”  She handed him the car keys. 

Blue drove through the congested streets in silence, while Scarlet tried hard not to listen to the whispered conversation going on behind them between the sisters.  To his relief, much of it sounded to be in Swedish, but he heard enough to know that by the time they reached the studio, Martha knew what had happened last night and this morning.  He was not sure what Martha thought about it; although her smile, as he helped from the car, suggested that at least she didn’t consider him beyond the pale.

***

The recording studio had a small balcony with compartments seating half-a-dozen people, around the stage.  There were instruments across the stage and some chairs and music stands with music already laid out on them.   Phil Dufresne had arranged for them to be seated in the middle of the small auditorium where the acoustics were best, and a young P.A. happily provided them with refreshments while they waited for the ‘show’ to begin.  

Eventually, a preoccupied manager appeared on the stage. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, “I must ask you all to confirm that every mobile device has been checked in with the company employees assigned to assist you.  There must be no bootleg recordings, or interruptions from cell-phones or digital watches.” 

He waited while everyone confirmed that they’d fully complied. 

“Good. Thank you.  Now, the concert today will be in two parts and will feature Mr Rafe Elderslie’s latest composition, ‘The Radiance of Eternity’.   Mr Elderslie prefers to perform in front of a live audience as he considers this ensures a more natural sounding recording.” 

His expression clearly showed that this opinion was not shared by the technical staff. 

He continued, “There will be two recording sessions of the whole piece from which a master tape will be created.   We ask you not to applaud during the performance or until the red light has been switched off at the conclusion of the piece.  Please do not make any noise, if at all possible, during the recording.  Any questions?” 

“What does the title mean?” asked a middle-aged woman seated in the right-hand box. 

The manager looked askance and consulted his notes.  He shrugged.

When it was clear that nobody was going to be able to answer the question, Scarlet announced, helpfully: “It’s from a poem by Shelley, I think.  I read somewhere that ’Earth’s Shadows’ was taken from ‘Adonaïs’, and I think this is too.”  He cleared his throat and declaimed:

  “Heaven's light forever shines, Earth's shadows fly;

  Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass,

  Stains the white radiance of Eternity.”

Blue was staring at him in undisguised surprise, while Cori was grinning. 

“I did it at school,” he explained, adding, “for my sins,” under his breath.

“Quite right, my friend,” said a newcomer to the stage.  There was a murmur of recognition and a smattering of applause, as Rafe Elderslie came to the front of the small dais.  “Not enough people study the Romantic Poets these days.”

“That’s because it was banned under the Geneva Convention as a cruel and unusual punishment for innocent school kids,” Scarlet muttered to Corinna.  Aloud he said, “I count myself as one of the fortunate ones, Mr Elderslie.”

The composer nodded and turned to beckon the musicians to take their places on the stage.  He then turned back to his audience.

“As my learned friend in the centre box may know, ‘Adonaïs’ was an elegy written for John Keats by Percy Shelley.  This piece of music is an elegy for the men and women who have died fighting for their freedom over the millennia: from Spartacus to the Peasants’ Revolt, through the French Revolution and the War of Independence, from the Great World Wars to the War against Terror that still flickers in our present age.  I honour them and mourn their passing.”

He turned to check that the musicians were ready and then took his place at the grand piano placed in the middle of the dais, from where every player could clearly see him.   

A disembodied voice came over the Tannoy: Recording in 3, 2, 1…

Elderslie glanced at the audience and said clearly, “The Radiance of Eternity.”

The performance started. 

It began with a rather mystical sounding strike on a large cymbal, which echoed around the room for a while, and then launched into a surprisingly jaunty air for an elegy.   The small audience was soon entranced by music at once ethereal and complex.   Elderslie was undoubtedly a genius and had the knack of imbuing his compositions with a timeless quality in which intricate motifs and refrains wove a complex soundscape. 

Scarlet recognised echoes of ‘Earth’s Shadows’ in one motif, as well as snatches of universally recognisable tunes from ages long past, transformed with the unusual, to Western ears, rhythms of ‘world-music’.  He glanced at everyone else and saw their attention was fixed on the stage.  Every one of them, in each of the three boxes.  Only he was not paying 100% attention to the performance. 

He tuned in again, wondering what he was missing, and a frown appeared between his dark brows.  Under the main melody there was an inharmonious motif of rhythmical notes that seemed to have no link to the piece, and as the performance continued it grew more dissonant.  

Scarlet raised his hands to cover his ears as the discordance increased, and it was then that he realised none of the others were aware of it. 

The music concluded with a majestic crescendo and died away with another reverberating clash of cymbals.  The ensuing silence in the auditorium was profound, until, after what seemed like a long time, there was a universal intake of breath as the audience reacted and, despite the instructions from the technician, spontaneous applause broke out. 

Elderslie acknowledged it with a grave bow of his head and a gesture requesting silence. 

A discussion began between the recording technicians and Elderslie around minor adjustments or imperfections, but Scarlet realised that neither of them mentioned the underlying cacophony that had so assaulted his hearing. 

Cori sank back into her chair, a smile on her face. 

“What did you think?” he asked her.

“Brilliant,” she whispered back.  “The man’s a phenomenon; I’ve never heard such amazing music.”

“Didn’t some of it sound a bit of a shambles to you?”

“Oh no; it was very moving.”  She looked at him in astonishment.  “You didn’t like it?”

“I’m not very musical.  What about Adam; did he like it?”

She shrugged, “Why don’t you ask him?”

Scarlet moved across to Blue’s chair.  “What did you think of it?”

Blue gave him a sharp glance.  “Excellent. I imagine it’ll surpass even ‘Earth’s Shadows’ in popularity.”

“Everything sounded perfectly harmonious to you?”

Blue gave a thoughtful grimace.  “Some of the rhythms were curious, ‘outside of the envelope’ you might say, but then you expect Elderslie’s work to present the listener with challenges and insights. He has that reputation.”

“But you didn’t hear anything that conflicted with the overall sound?”

“No,” said Blue, frowning. “I’m sure everything was there for a reason.  Did you hear anything wrong?”

Scarlet bit his lower lip and shrugged.  “Lord knows I’m no aficionado; for all I know making a damned racket is what Elderslie’s all about.”

Blue gave him a sideways glance. 

“Paul, I don’t know what you mean, the piece was fantastic… Look, I’m sorry if you didn’t like it.  Maybe you should’ve gone sightseeing instead?”

“Hmm. Maybe.”

 “Shouldn’t you be sitting down?” Blue said. “They’re about to start again.”

Making a sudden decision, Scarlet shook his head.  “I need to take a leak.  Don’t leave without me if I’m not back.  They might not let me in while the recording’s going on.”

Blue’s fair brows rose but he said nothing. 

Scarlet slipped quietly out of the box as the first notes of the second movement started.  He glanced around to get his bearings: the corridor was empty and there were red lights over every door along it, reminding everyone of the need for silence. 

Scarlet moved quickly in the direction of the recording booth and the stage door, situated behind the auditorium.  There was a short staircase leading down to where the small orchestra was performing and he could just hear the swell and lilt of an overriding melody, but he was too far away to detect any discordance.  He walked along to the heavy door with a large red ‘Recording’ sign over it.  There was a small glass panel and he peered through wondering if the technicians were as oblivious to the strange subliminal discordance of the music as the audience. 

The booth was empty.  The switches on the mixing desk were sliding up and down, balancing and compensating for the human imperfections of the performers, but there was no one operating them.  He tried the door handle but it was locked. 

As he stepped away wondering what to do next, a violent wave of nausea washed over him.

“The Mysterons…” he murmured, trying to control the dizziness. 

His first thought was to get Blue and his family away from any potential danger, but, apart from the empty recording booth, he had no idea what or where that danger might be.   Causing a scene might well precipitate exactly what he was trying to avoid. 

He walked unsteadily back towards the auditorium turning over options in his mind. Like everyone else he’d handed over his phone and watch and so there was no way he could call for Spectrum back-up. He turned away from the auditorium at a junction and headed for the reception area where he felt sure there would be a phone he could use.  He was relieved to see that there were people at Reception, and as calmly as he could, he asked if there was a phone he could use to make an urgent call.

The receptionist directed him to a discreet booth on the other side of the foyer and he nodded his thanks.  He slipped his Spectrum ID card into the payment slot and a few moments later was connected to the global security network.  He selected the code for the closest terrestrial base, which he knew to be at Atlantic Airport, and waited.

All Spectrum calls made from unsecured communication networks are voice only but he knew their security system would have registered his ID and his request to speak to the base commander was dealt with quickly and efficiently. 

“Major Fulvous here, Captain Scarlet.  How may I help you?”

“Major, I suspect I have stumbled on some Mysteron activity, although I’m not sure why or what they’re trying to do. I don’t suppose there’s been a threat from them?”

“No, we’ve heard nothing, Captain.”

Scarlet sighed with relief, but he was still anxious. “I’m at the recording studios of Rigaudon Records, in Boston.  I think… that is… well, something isn’t right. I need back-up.”

“I need rather more than that, Captain, before I send officers out.”

“There’s a concert being recorded here – a live concert – and the music… it’s hard to explain: it’s having an unusual effect on people.  It’s almost as if it’s hypnotising them; at least, they’re not hearing some of the strange noise that underlies the tune.”

“But you did?” Fulvous asked.

 “I have sharp hearing and no musical aptitude,” Scarlet explained, hoping he wouldn’t need to say more.  “Besides, there was no one in the recording booth when I went to look, yet the machines were working.  Look, Fulvous, speak to Colonel White on Cloudbase if you have to, but I’m officially requesting back-up.”

“Please wait, Captain.”

Scarlet fidgeted from foot to foot while the phone played musak at him. After what seemed an age, Major Fulvous was back sounding rather surprised.

“Captain Scarlet?  Colonel White has authorised back-up.  I am sending Captain Sullivan with a team of two armed men.  They should be there in approximately 5 minutes.”

“S.I.G.,” Scarlet said.  It wasn’t much of a back-up squad, but they’d have full communications and weaponry.   He collected his ID card and went to wait by the door. 

The Reception staff watched him with some mistrust as he hung about ostensibly examining the large, gaudily decorated Christmas tree, while he waited. He couldn’t tell them anything although he itched to order them to evacuate the building.  He kept checking the wall clock and sighed with relief when an SSC drew up outside 4 minutes and 26 seconds later. 

Captain Sullivan was a grizzled veteran, and he gave Scarlet a sceptical glance when the Englishman approached him.

“Captain Sullivan?”  He presented his ID card.

“Captain Scarlet.  What’s the matter, sir?” From his accent Scarlet guessed that the man was a native of the city.

Although he’d spent the time trying to formulate the best way to explain his concerns, Scarlet found himself tongue-tied and stuttering as he told the officer about his discoveries.

“But you say no one else heard this ‘cacophony’?” Sullivan asked doubtfully.

“It didn’t look like it – they said they hadn’t.  Look, Captain, I’ve got very sensitive hearing; maybe I picked it up at a subliminal level.”

“Maybe you did, sir; but I can’t evacuate a building on the off-chance you really did hear something out of tune with the performance, can I?”

“The Mysterons are clever and they’re ruthless.  This whole building could go up at any minute!”

“There’s been no threat, Captain Scarlet.”

“Who’s to say they will always give us warning?”

Sullivan looked grave, and there was no amusement in his reply: “If they didn’t, sir, I don’t think we’d stand a chance against them.”

Scarlet nodded.  “You’re right, we wouldn’t.  Think, Captain: this planet is facing annihilation by powerful and utterly ruthless aliens who wouldn’t think twice about using anyone, or anything, to achieve their ends.  They have set no time limit on their War of Nerves and they can - and do - keep trying, whilst we only have to fail once.  And we will fail, if we ignore possible threats because they haven’t warned us, or because we can’t fathom their intent.  We must do something!”

Sullivan scrutinised the young man beside him.  Scarlet’s honest belief in the potential danger was clear in his face and Sullivan knew his reputation for outstanding devotion to duty.  He gave a brief nod.  

“S.I.G., Captain Scarlet. Leave it to me, sir.”

Captain Sullivan walked over to the reception desk and spoke to the receptionist for several minutes.  She was obviously reluctant to obey but at his insistence she did and a fire alarm rang throughout the building. 

“Thank you, Captain,” Scarlet said, when Sullivan re-joined him.

“Once the building’s cleared, I’ll have a team search it thoroughly, but beyond that, there isn’t much I can do, sir.”

“I know,” Scarlet replied, watching as employees and visitors began to leave through the foyer, pulling on their coats and jackets as they walked outside to the appointed gathering places across the road.  It was some minutes before he saw Blue and his party making their way down the stairs towards the door.  He wondered if he should join them, but felt it unfair to leave Sullivan to deal with the outraged managers already haranguing the harassed receptionist. 

As it happened, Blue joined him. 

“Captain, what’s wrong?” he asked, looking not at Paul but at Sullivan.

“A report of a suspect… that is, a suspicious circumstance, sir.  Spectrum takes no chances with public safety.  Please join your party and vacate the building.”

Blue showed him his ID and then turned to Scarlet.  “Did you do this?” Scarlet nodded.  “Can I ask why?”

Scarlet drew Blue aside and started to try and explain.  He faltered in the face of the sceptical reception he was getting. 

“Look, it’s better to be safe than sorry, right?”

“Always; but somehow I think the protests about this will go right to the top.”  Blue nodded towards Elderslie who stalked past them with a face like thunder.

Scarlet sighed.  Life was never easy these days. 

***

Colonel White listened to Captain Sullivan’s report in silence.   

“I spoke to the senior recording technician, Colonel, and he explained that there are two recording booths, and what is done in the main room, where the technicians are, is duplicated in the sub-booth.  What Captain Scarlet saw was the sub-booth mimicking the main booth.  He wasn’t to know that, of course, sir, but we’ve found nothing that’s suggested any Mysteron involvement with the set up.”

“The discordant music Captain Scarlet reported: has someone listened to the master tapes?” White asked.

“Yes, sir.  Captain Blue and Captain Scarlet heard the playback in the main recording booth.  Captain Blue insisted that the tapes must not be moved until they’d been checked and he won’t let the technicians near them until afterwards.” 

Sullivan paused and added, with just a hint of amusement in his voice: “That caused quite a ruckus with the record executives, sir.”

“Never mind that, Captain.  Was there anything wrong with the tapes?”

Sullivan looked uneasy.  “No, sir.  Even Captain Scarlet admitted that he couldn’t hear the discordant ‘noise’ on the tapes, which he’d heard during the live recording.”

The colonel considered what to do next.  He already had official complaints from the record company executives and Rafe Elderslie on file, as well as ‘an enquiry’ from the Mayor of Boston into what Spectrum was doing causing panic on his city’s streets.  But he was not going to be intimidated. 

“Does Spectrum Boston have a supply of security canisters?”  Sullivan nodded.  “Then have the master tapes sent to Cloudbase.  Captain Magenta and Lieutenant Green will analyse them using our Seventh Generation computers.”

“I don’t think Elderslie or the music execs will like that, sir.”

“I don’t care if they like it or not, Captain.  You have your orders and I expect them to be carried out.  If you have any opposition from official sources, you might remind His Honour the Mayor that Spectrum can place the city under martial law, without notice, and I will do, if necessary.”

“S.I.G., sir.”

White noted the smirk on Sullivan’s face as he closed the video link.  There was no love lost between Spectrum and the governing authorities and this would certainly exacerbate the situation in Boston.  He turned to the attentive Lieutenant Green. 

“Inform Captain Magenta of my instructions, Lieutenant, and get someone in to man the main communications desk, while you prepare to work on the tapes in a secure environment, as soon as they arrive.  Captain Scarlet is not given to flights of fancy, and he has proven sensitive to Mysteron activity that has passed the rest of us by, before now.  I’m prepared to trust his hunch this time.”

“S.I.G., Colonel.”

***

The atmosphere in Boston was growing increasingly fractious. 

Phillip Dufresne was still trying to smooth the ruffled feathers of their star composer and arrange for a new recording of ‘The Radiance of Eternity’.  Elderslie was demanding that the record company fund a live recording in a proper concert hall, where no one would be able to disrupt the performance.   He was also demanding that the concert be streamed live to a global music network, which the company certainly did not want, but Dufresne anticipated that, if they could arrange a suitable fee for broadcasting the performance, they might yet recoup their costs. 

Luckily, Elderslie’s main grievance seemed to be with the allegation that there was something discordant in his composition, and he was rationalising that by asserting that Scarlet was obviously a schizophrenic, given to hearing non-existent noises in his head.

Dufresne thanked Providence that Elderslie was prepared to accept his assertion that however diligent the company was, even they would be unable to screen members of the future audience Elderslie was insisting on, for ‘unsuitable’ people with a propensity to hear non-existent noises. 

Despite their review of the master tapes, Scarlet stuck to his story of the dissonance in the music and, although his confidence had been shaken by the explanation of the ‘clone’ recording booth, he told Blue that he was sure his nausea had been a sign of Mysteron involvement. 

To his relief, his friend was inclined to agree. 

“But let’s wait and see what Magenta and Green make of the tapes,” said Blue, as they discussed the problem while being driven back to the Phelps house where they’d been ordered to await further orders.  “They have those diagnostic programs they used to try and decode the Martian signals, so they’ll be able to run Elderslie’s opus through those.  Cloudbase’s computers should be able to detect if there is anything in the music, whether or not it was generated by the Mysterons.”

“I can’t believe I was the only one to hear it,” Scarlet said.  “It was an absolute racket.”

“What sort of ‘racket’?  Random noises, regular sounds – what?”

“Yes, all of that.  I think there was a pattern to it; it was high-pitched but there was a very low rumbling too…”

Blue was certain he had heard nothing except the brilliance of the music, but he did try to rationalise what Scarlet was saying. 

“Maybe we should get Fawn to test your hearing?  If it’s been enhanced by retrometabolism that could explain why no one else was hearing it.”

Scarlet shifted uneasily and said, rather grumpily, “I’m not ruddy Superman; I haven’t got X-ray vision and I can’t leap over tall buildings.”

“No?  Then why do you insist on carrying a chip the weight of the world on your shoulder?”

“Oh, piss off…”

***

Given that their afternoon was unexpectedly free, Corinna pleaded with Scarlet to come out with her and explore the city.  He checked with Colonel White, who saw no reason for him not to ‘patrol the city’ when the suggestion was put to him, as long as he remained in contact with Captain Blue at all times, so Scarlet agreed to go.

Privately, he was delighted to leave the controversy of his actions at the recording studio behind him, and Cori never mentioned it as she enjoyed showing her home town off to an interested and appreciative guest. 

Left alone at home, Captain Blue contacted Cloudbase for a conference with Colonel White, followed by a confidential discussion with Doctor Fawn that left him feeling even more uncertain about his friend’s relationship with his sister. At its conclusion he went back downstairs, and found Martha sitting on a couch in the conservatory beside the Christmas tree, reading.  Her children had gone out to visit Santa Claus at the mall with their grandmother and she was enjoying the unexpected free time.  One glance at her brother told her that she needed to devote some of that time to him, so when he volunteered to fetch her a coffee, she accepted the offer.    

When he came back with two steaming mugs, she moved up on the sofa, inviting him to sit beside her. 

They sat in companionable silence, for Martha knew that he would not reveal whatever was causing him anxiety until he was ready to.  That he would unburden himself to her she never doubted; throughout his life Adam had brought his problems to her, when he had exhausted his own resources without finding a resolution that satisfied him.

“Marti,” he began quietly.  “What’s wrong with Cori?”

“Wrong with her, Addie?  I don’t know that anything is.”

“You probably know we had a fight over her ‘friendship’ with Paul.  She told me her life sucks right now and she needed someone who cared about her.  I haven’t been around much and I don’t know what’s happened.”  He turned to her.  “I reckon she must’ve told you what the problem is, at least.”

“Oh, you know Cori; but don’t worry about it.   As far as I know, she’s been getting over an unhappy love affair. As usual, she thought the guy was ‘Mr Right’, and it turned out that he was just a guy.  You know?”

“Who was it?”

“You wouldn’t know him, and I don’t think I’ve the right to tell you all the gory details.  There’s nothing you can do about it, anyway.  I don’t think he did anything wrong, although Cori does, of course.  He simply failed to live up to her high expectations.”

“Is that why she latched onto Paul?  She’s on the rebound?”

Martha sipped her coffee.  “I like your friend.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Has she latched onto him? That sounds like he’d object, but he doesn’t seem to mind, does he?”

He gave her an exasperated glance.  “I know she’ll have told you what’s happened between them – she always does.”

“Then you’ll know that she likes him and she’s pleased that he likes her.  Who knows?  Maybe this time Cori’s picked a guy who just might be Mr Right? Mighty oaks can grow from little acorns…”

“Paul’s not the marrying kind,” Blue snapped, although he rather doubted it even as he made the pronouncement.  “If she’s expecting him to marry her and settle down, then she’s heading for another fall.”

Martha looked at him intently for a moment, but he met her gaze without flinching.  She sighed slightly and said, “What makes you say that? Is there something between you and Paul?”

 “No, there is not; why does everyone assume I’ve got the hots for him?  It’s just that in our line of work, we’re told to avoid emotional entanglements.”

“Bullshit; just because you’ve always shied away from commitment you’re using that as a shield.”

“You think I’ve never wanted a home and kids?  It just hasn’t worked out that way.”

“I wonder if that’s because the reality of what you’ll get is just too far apart from what you want.  You’re as bad as Corinna, in your own way: she’s looking for Mr Right and you… well, what’re you looking for, Adam?  Wonder Woman or Superman?” 

“We’re not talking about me.”

“I am.”  She gave him a sympathetic smile and continued, “Unless you’ve changed considerably in the past 15-or-so years, I very much doubt that you live like a monk now, but avoiding ‘emotional entanglements’ – as you chose to call them – isn’t the solution, Adam. I’d have thought Natalie would’ve taught you that, if you learnt nothing else from that ‘entanglement’.”

“Leave Natalie out of this.”

 “Everybody needs someone in their life who puts them first, even if they’re doing some high-powered, secretive job for the World Government; or maybe, because they’re doing high-powered, secretive jobs?”

“Leave my job outa this.”

“Is there anything I can include?  Look, Addie, you’re not getting any younger, and the time will come when you can no longer rely on your fitness and strength. Will the World Government still want to employ you then?   You’d be glad of someone to turn to then.”

Blue was angry.  “Has Mom been pushing you to lecture me?” 

Martha shook her head, but he wasn’t convinced and continued:

“Is it any wonder I don’t look forward to visits home?  All I ever hear is ‘settle down and get a proper job’!  I don’t – and never have – lived like a monk, Marti; I’ve just yet to meet anyone I want to share the rest of my life with.” 

 “What’re you doing?  Working your way through a global list of possibilities?”  She shook her head despondently. “You’re momma’s son through and through, Adam.”  

“I am not!”

She ignored his protest. “You and Cori, neither of you will settle for less than perfection, whatever your skewed interpretation of ‘perfection’ is.   Life doesn’t work that way.  Phil and I have what is generally thought of as a successful marriage, and yet we’ll fight like cat and dog when the devil’s in us.  You’ll have to learn to compromise, because nobody’s perfect.”

“I… I’d love to find someone who could be … who could give me the kind of relationship you and Phil have – or Dad and Margot.  When I do, you’ll be the first to know.  Until then, I’m happy as I am, thank you...”

Martha got up and said, sadly, “You really need to work on your body language, Adam; until you do, you’ll never be a convincing liar. What’s more, Natalie will continue to take you to the cleaners, financially and emotionally, every time.”

“Forget Natalie!  What about Cori and Paul?”

“It’s their business, not yours.  You can’t protect her from life, Addie; and she wouldn’t thank you if you tried. Leave them to it - consenting adults and all that.”

“Someone will get hurt.”

“That’s a chance we all have to take.  As I said: I like your friend.  He seems to be a decent guy and they make what Mom would undoubtedly call ‘a handsome couple’.  In addition, Cori’s happier than I’ve seen her for months.  Don’t you dare interfere, Adam, you’ve done enough damage before this – and Cori’s love life is none of your business.”

Adam had tried several times to analyse the vague disquiet he felt.  He knew Paul Metcalfe to be an honest and honourable man: the kind he’d welcome for his sister, and, indeed, he’d been pleased to see them getting on so well the first time Paul had come to Boston.  But Captain Scarlet was a Mysteron, an unknown alien entity, and Blue had the self-awareness to admit that that was the root of his qualms about their continuing relationship.  

Against that, he weighed the evidence of Symphony’s dalliance with Scarlet.  It had been evident that the two were flirting all through the Monte Carlo mission and he’d wondered at the time if Scarlet was seeking to demonstrate the extent of his pulling power, especially as the relationship hadn’t continued once they’d returned to Cloudbase.  But Symphony hadn’t complained and she didn’t seem to have suffered because of it.  

However, her decision had been taken in the full knowledge of what Scarlet was, and they couldn’t give Corinna that option.

He reached out a hand to prevent Martha from turning away and replied:

“Marti: Paul and I have faced some difficult and dangerous times together and I owe him my life - several times over.  He’s had a tough time and Cori can be… difficult.   I don’t want to see either of them hurt because… dammit - I care about them both.”

“You’re a big softy,” she said, but not unkindly.  “Sounds like you’ve had a tough time too; but you need to remember that everyone has the right to run their own risks, Adam.”

He looked up at her and there was such an expression of melancholy in his eyes that a wave of pity engulfed her.  She put her arms around him and kissed his cheek, ruffling his fair hair as she turned to go.

Chapter Three

Lieutenant Green was extremely musical, as were all of the members of his large family.   He could, therefore, appreciate musicality in others and was more than willing to admit that Elderslie’s composition was extraordinarily good and showed more than a few flashes of genius.  However, after listening to it non-stop for 7 hours, he was getting heartily sick of it. 

This state of affairs was not helped by the fact that Captain Magenta didn’t have a musical bone in his body but, as he had stated several times, as long as he could hum along with the music, he liked it.   Green could attest to Captain Magenta’s opinion of ‘The Radiance of Eternity’ by the number of times he had tried - and failed to keep in tune – to hum it.

The computer programs they were using had grown more complex, as they tried every version they’d developed to try and decipher the mysterious Martian signals.  They had used known and specially created cyphers and algorithms to ‘decode’ the sound waves.   They started running the music through the basic ones and found nothing untoward, so they were working through the series in order of complexity, stripping the music down to the basic wavelengths and subjecting it all to analysis.

“It might help if we knew what we were looking for,” Magenta grumbled, as another program ended with nothing concrete revealed.  “As we only have Captain Scarlet’s description to go on, maybe we should run the whole piece through again-”

“Oh please, not again… not tonight,” Green begged. “The human spirit can only take so much.”

Magenta smiled broadly.  “Okay, Sey.  Tomorrow, maybe we should run the whole piece through, and strip out individual sound waves and run them through the programs?”

“Tomorrow that’ll be a good idea.  Tonight I think if I hear one more note of this… composition, I will be liable to murder someone.”

“Let’s call it a day then. I want something to eat anyway.”

“S.I.G., Captain.”

***

Cori and Scarlet came in late, long after everyone else had retired for the night.  After sight-seeing, they’d gone to a movie and stopped to have something to eat at a late-night diner.  They were so wrapped-up in each other that they either didn’t see, or rather, chose to ignore, Blue when he walked from the lounge into the hallway.  Without speaking, they went straight upstairs and into Cori’s room.

***

Blue was alone, drinking coffee and reading the ‘Boston Herald’, when the young couple entered the dining room the next morning.  Scarlet wondered briefly if his friend had even gone to bed, for his face was drawn and there were dark smudges below his cool and appraising grey-blue eyes.

“I saved you some toast,” he remarked, barely looking up from the article he was reading.

Scarlet replied: “’Morning, Adam.”

“Good morning, Paul.”

Blue’s eyes were now focused on his sister and he didn’t look at his partner even as he spoke.  “If you want anything from the kitchen the housekeeper’s here, so just ask her and she’ll rustle it up for you.”

“Thanks.”

Blue turned to look at Scarlet for the first time.  “I’ve reported in.  We’re ordered to remain in Boston until it’s been decided what to do with the tapes.  The colonel wants to know what’s happening about this new broadcast concert Elderslie’s demanding.  I’ve left a message for Phil to call me when he knows anything.”

“Okay.”  Paul helped himself to a slice of toast.  “I guess I should find an hotel; I can’t expect your mother to give me indefinite board and lodging this close to Christmas, especially now we’re on official duty.”

Blue rustled his newspaper to straighten the crumpled pages and resumed reading.

“Don’t be asinine,” he remarked insensitively.

Scarlet’s temper stirred.  Blue had the reputation of being a pedant who played everything by the book, and the regulations clearly stated that civilians, especially any known to Spectrum officers, must never be allowed to become involved with a mission.  Therefore, he’d expected Blue to be the one to announce they should decamp.  He also knew, only too well, Blue’s tendency to be insultingly superior at times, and, on this occasion,  this detached arrogance irritated Scarlet so much, that it took every ounce of his military professionalism to resist the temptation of punching Blue’s lights out. 

He was still surprised when Corinna went for her brother with unexpected vehemence.

She slammed her hands on the table and reached out to drag the paper from in front of his face. 

“I hate you,” she snarled.

Surprised, it took Blue a moment to react, then he dragged the paper back and retorted: “I know you do, Cori, but so what?  That’s nothing new.”

He met her eyes and held her gaze in silence until she turned away shaking her head.

“Paul can stay here as long as he likes, as my guest, if not as yours.”

Blue looked genuinely surprised.  “Did you hear me say he couldn’t?  I told him not to be a fool for thinking he had to go.”

“You didn’t have to say it – it was written in disapproval all over your face! You’re acting as bossy as usual – giving your orders!”

“You need your hearing tested, Cori – and you’re imagining things.”

“Shut up!” she raged at her brother.

“Cori, please.  Adam, I don’t want to cause any trouble – for anyone,” Scarlet said.  “It’d make sense for me to get a room; and, as we’ve been ordered to stay here, it’ll be on expenses anyway.”

Blue folded the crumpled newspaper and placed it carefully beside his plate. As if suddenly aware that he was the one in the wrong, he said, “Actually, Paul has a point.  As we’re back on duty, I should probably move out too.  Security must be maintained at all times and I don’t want my family involved in any of the World Government’s business.  People could get hurt.”

Scarlet nodded.  Even the families of Spectrum’s officers weren’t supposed to know too much about the service and it was a court martial offence to reveal any of the top secret work they undertook. 

“You’ll be lucky to find anywhere available this close to Christmas,” she reminded them.

“There’s always somewhere, if you’re not choosy or can afford to pay a premium,” Blue said.

 “Oh, go and play soldiers, the pair of you, if it makes you feel so important! There’s way too much testosterone in this room,” Cori snapped and walked out of the room with her head held high.

“What jerked her chain?” Scarlet muttered in bewilderment.

Blue looked at him.  His expression was stern and there was no warmth in his voice as he asked: “Did she tell you that she’s just broken up with some other guy?  The pair of you are rebounding into each other’s bed.”

“I am not rebounding, as you call it.  I can assure you, there’s been nobody to rebound from.  Unless you mean that one-night stand with Symphony?  You can’t mean that, can you?  You do, don’t you?  Oh, for crying out loud…   Besides, you’re a fine one to talk. Your track-record’s hardly perfect from what I’ve heard: trails of busted cherries and broken hearts all over the place.  And I don’t give a toss about your opinion, either,” Scarlet snapped, as Blue tried to respond. “This conversation is now closed.”

But Blue was angry and, ignoring Scarlet’s declaration, he snapped: “You’ve been pumping Cori about things that are nobody’s business but mine?”

“I never ask her anything.   I can’t help it if she likes to talk:  it’s like some kind of foreplay.”

Blue flushed angrily.  “We have to work together, Scarlet, so for that reason – and that reason alone – I won’t break your neck for that.”

“You and whose army, Blondie?”  Scarlet’s use of Blue’s much-hated nickname was a deliberate taunt.

“I don’t give a shit that you’d get up again in an hour’s time: it’d only give me the pleasure of doing it again.”

“You really want to fight me, Blue?”  Scarlet sneered.  “You wouldn’t last five minutes: I’m a soldier, and a bloody good one, and don’t you forget it, Mister!  You’re a pilot; you couldn’t punch your way out of a wet paper bag in a real fight.  Anytime you’re ready, I’ll take you on.”

Blue flushed and a nerve in his cheek throbbed as he fought to keep his temper.  Through gritted teeth he muttered, “Business before pleasure.  I’ll get my stuff and we’ll both move into a hotel.”

Scarlet stared him down before he said, with considerable sang-froid:  “S.I.G., Captain… whatever you say.”

***

Colonel White read the report on the day’s efforts at deciphering the music and closed the file with a sigh.  He wanted to believe Captain Scarlet and felt confident that his officer wouldn’t have pulled such a reprehensible stunt as a joke, but there was no firm evidence to support Scarlet’s story.

Major Fulvous had sent a report compiled by Captain Sullivan, into the record company’s new agreement with Rafe Elderslie.  They had insisted, the captain made it clear, that at great expense they had booked the Bandranaik Hall for two days’ time, and opened the booking to a ballot of Elderslie’s fans.  Elderslie had insisted that, in order for him to allow the company to record the concert, it would be streamed to the Global Music Network, where it would be available free to anyone who wanted to watch it.  The only restraint the company had been able to gain his agreement to, was that there was to be a lock preventing downloading. 

Sullivan’s report concluded with the information that the company was less than pleased with Spectrum for ruining the initial recording and was threatening to sue for these extra expenses.

Colonel White wasn’t too concerned about that; Spectrum could simply slap a security notice on the files and the courts wouldn’t touch the case.   After that, he felt sure it wouldn’t be difficult to negotiate a settlement with Rigaudon Records that took full account of the fact that ‘Spectrum’s’ money was, in fact, public money. 

As he sat considering what further action to take, there was a low hum from the base-wide communication system and a well-known and feared voice echoed through Cloudbase.

THIS IS THE VOICE OF THE MYSTERONS.  WE KNOW THAT YOU CAN HEAR US, EARTHMEN.  WE WILL BE REVENGED FOR YOUR UNPROVOKED ATTACK ON OUR MARTIAN COMPLEX. OUR EXPERIMENT IN SOUND IS READY TO BEGIN. THE EARTH WILL EXPERIENCE THE POWERFUL MUSIC OF THE SPHERES.

***

“Music – it says music,” Captain Magenta said excitedly.  “It must have something to do with the Elderslie piece.  Scarlet was right – we’re going to have to keep trying to decipher it.”

The elite officers, including Blue and Scarlet by video-link, were discussing the Mysteron threat with Colonel White in the Conference Room.

“True, but it isn’t exactly a threat is it?” Grey reasoned. “I mean, it says we will experience the powerful music of the spheres.  That could as equally refer to experiencing something wonderful, couldn’t it?  Maybe they’re attempting to make peace?”  He turned to the video-screen and continued, “You said the Elderslie composition was outstanding, didn’t you, Blue?”

The American nodded.  “I certainly enjoyed it.”

“And you didn’t suffer from the experience?” the colonel asked.

“No, sir. I enjoyed the concert and I honestly can’t say that I noticed the discordances Captain Scarlet did.  Not that I doubt they were there, of course.”

“The audience were all entranced by the music.  It looked like they were being hypnotised, if you ask me,” Scarlet said thoughtfully.  “Maybe that’s what the Mysterons want to do?  Hypnotise everyone so we can’t defend ourselves.”

“The company are predicting a massive global audience for the transmission,” Lieutenant Green chipped in.  “There will be VIP audiences in New York, Futura, Brussels, Buenos Aires, and Singapore with direct links to the Boston concert.  I spoke to my contact at Global Media earlier, they’re clearing the networks of all other traffic for the broadcast; the concert is all anyone will be able to access for the duration.”

“What about security and emergency transmissions?” White asked sharply. “I want nothing to interfere with the Spectrum wavebands.”

“Secure and emergency networks should still function throughout,” Magenta replied, and Green nodded.  “Global Media are only using the open public networks, sir.”

“Still suggests there’ll be an opportunity for the Mysterons to make trouble,” Scarlet said.  “Classic distraction technique, sir.”

“Yes, Captain; I’m inclined to agree with you.”

There was silence as the colonel gave the matter some thought.  When he spoke his voice was decisive:

“I want Captain Blue and Captain Scarlet to attend the concert and Captain Magenta and Lieutenant Green to monitor the transmission from Cloudbase.  Captain Grey and Captain Ochre will be at the Global Media Centre to ensure that nothing goes wrong there.  The ground forces in Boston, New York, Brussels, Buenos Aires, Singapore and Futura will be mobilised to provide visible security cover for the major venues.”

“It beats me why everyone’s suddenly so hyped up about it,” Scarlet remarked.  “I mean it was all very jolly, but it is only some instrumental music, when all’s said and done.  I know Rigaudon was keen enough to let everyone know what a fantastic piece of music it is, and the media  interest in Elderslie meant they played along with stuff about ‘reclusive genius writes musical masterpiece’.  Even so, you wouldn’t think politicians would get so excited and be queueing up to attend the concert…”

“He’s dedicated it to all the men and women who’ve died in human conflicts and who are still dying,” Ochre reminded him.  “Show me a politician who isn’t going to hang his hat on that one.”

“You’re such a cynic, Ochre,” Symphony Angel said.  “I think he means it, after all, he’s giving most of the profits to charity.  I think it’s a marvellous thing to do.”

“Oh, I’m not saying it wasn’t a heartfelt dedication, Symph…ony,” Ochre replied, catching the colonel’s raised eyebrow at his truncation of her code name, “at least on Elderslie’s part, but there’s enough senators who’ll be attending in Futura and the other venues, whose day job is basically promoting conflict between neighbouring states.”

She nodded and smiled.  “I wish I could go though.  Think of all the amazing dresses and outfits there’ll be on show.”  She grinned impishly at the men sitting around her and then continued: “What do you want the Angels to do, Colonel?”

“I want all five pilots on duty, patrolling between Boston, New York, and Futura. The regional Spectrum bases will have to provide local cover, in co-operation with the WAAF.  Somehow, I have a feeling that whatever the Mysterons have planned will start in the northern American zone.”

“S.I.G., sir.”

“The Mysteron threat is vague enough to be dangerous and we’ve nothing much to go on, so I want all Spectrum personnel on duty and every potential target monitored.  Lieutenant Green, send out an all points order to that effect.  Now, we’d better get ready for the broadcast.  Dismiss.”

***

Scarlet and Blue considered it would be unwise for them to go to the concert in uniform; there were too many local people who knew Adam Svenson and more than enough who had seen them recently to realise their identities.   As the Bandranaik Hall was a far more formal venue than the recording studio, Scarlet had to hire a tuxedo. 

They arrived by cab and Blue showed the security guard the ‘access all areas’ passes provided by Phil Dufresne.  Wearing their accreditation passes, they moved through the corridors, past the dressing rooms and the room where the orchestra were tuning their instruments.  There was a small canteen serving drinks and sandwiches for the crews and technicians milling about arranging recording booths, decks and wiring.

In the distance Blue spotted his brother-in-law and made his way towards him.

“Hi, Adam, Paul.  Glad you could make it,” Dufresne said when he saw them both, although he gave Scarlet a wary glance. 

“Phil, good to see you,” Blue replied, shaking his hand.  “Anything we can do to help?”

Dufresne shook his head.  “Just keep out of the way – especially of Elderslie. He’s like a bear with a sore head and he’s not nice to know at the moment.”

“Has something gone wrong?” Scarlet asked.  The Mysterons were adept at manufacturing accidents that killed their target and allowed them to recreate the person as their own agent, and for that reason, any unusual events were always of interest.

“No, not that I’m aware.  Just over-wrought artistic temperament, I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Blue replied.  “We’ll keep away from him; I’m guessing we’re not popular with a lot of people right now?”

Dufresne gave an affirming nod.  “If you don’t want me having to explain that you’re…” he dropped his voice to a whisper, “Spectrum agents, then I’d keep a low profile.”

“How do you know?” Scarlet demanded.

“My wife told me, of course.  How else?”

“She isn’t supposed to know either,” Scarlet muttered, glancing at his partner, who shrugged.

Dufresne chuckled.  “Believe me, Paul, there’s nothing goes on in her family that Martha doesn’t know about.” 

Scarlet felt himself flushing under the amused scrutiny of the older man.  No doubt Cori had been confiding in her sister…

“Yes, well, keep it to yourself, Mr Dufresne, please.”

“Of course, Mr Metcalfe.”

“Has the building been thoroughly checked?” Scarlet asked.

“Some local Spectrum men have gone over it and I think the local police are involved.  I know it isn’t ideal, but we were lucky to get the place.  As it is we’ve had to pay compensation for the cancellation of the advertised concert.  Please don’t say there needs to be any more security present; the company’ll be bankrupted if we have to pay out even more,” Dufresne replied. “Do you know how much musicians charge for emergency performances this close to Christmas?”

Scarlet smiled.  “No, but don’t worry, sir, that should do it; for the building anyway.”

“Come on, Paul, let’s check out the stage,” Blue suggested, and Scarlet was only too happy to agree.

There were still some technicians setting up microphones.  Wires trailed over the surfaces to a control box set up in the wings and Scarlet checked them out while seeming to be casually looking around. 

“It’s all A-Okay,” he told Blue.  “Whatever they’re planning it doesn’t seem to involve sabotaging the transmission.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t mean sabotaging the venues either…”

Scarlet shrugged.  “Well, Major Fulvous assures me his men have been over the place with a fine-toothed comb.  You’ve seen that the place is now sewn up tighter than a drum.  I’d challenge even the Mysterons to get in here now.”

“They don’t have to; remember that orchestra in Ballyglass? One bum note and it was kaboom!  But the Mysterons still tried to disrupt the World Cultural Congress by destroying the Athlone Entertainments Complex.”

“Yeah, I was there at the time,” Scarlet reminded him wryly.  “You don’t think they’ll try that again, do you?”

“Well, you can’t run every instrument through a Mysteron detector, but no, I don’t think they will.  They don’t repeat themselves that closely, as a rule. Besides, the threat makes it clear that the Earth will experience the power of the music of the spheres… to me that doesn’t suggest an explosion.  It’d be too localised for one thing.”

“I wish that thought made me feel more confident that we can stop this, Blue.  But at least, on a personal level, I can say ‘good’, because being blown up once was enough.”

A young secretary approached them trying to attract their attention without interrupting them.  Blue turned and smiled at her.

“Can we help you?”

“Mr Svenson?” He nodded and she gave a relieved smile. “Mr Dufresne sent me across with a list of the concert attendees.  He thought you might like to see it.”

“Please thank him for me; it’ll be very helpful.”  He reached out to take it from her. “Can you tell me, Tina, if preparations for the concert are still on schedule?”

“Yes, they are.  They will open the doors to the audience in about an hour and Mr Elderslie should arrive in about forty minutes.”

“Thank you.”  Blue dismissed her with a genial nod and another smile.  Scarlet noticed her blush as she backed away and scampered towards the admin rooms, pausing to glance back at them before she disappeared. 

“You know her?” 

Blue shook his head, surprised.  “I read the name on her security pass.”

“Well, you certainly made an impression…” Blue was scanning the list and didn’t respond.  “Anyone we know – or should know about?”

“Most of it is simply names – the lucky ballot winners, I guess - but the VIPs are listed: the Mayor, a Senator or two, the record company bigwigs, some sports stars.”  He glanced up, frowning, “My brother, my sisters, my step-mom…” He sighed and continued reading.  “Lady Gray?”

“The colonel’s wife?  What’s she doing here?”

“She was married to an American diplomat before she married the colonel; maybe she still has friends in high places?”

“Do you think he knows?”

“I dunno; you’d better warn him though.”

Chapter Four

The auditorium was buzzing with excitement as it filled up with people.  The record company executives had welcomed the various celebrities and were lavishly entertaining them in a hospitality room.  Rafe Elderslie was addressing his musicians and psyching them – and himself –up for the performance.  Captain Blue, who was listening to this rant from the back of the room, considered that the man was almost certainly a narcissist and concluded that he really did not like him at all.

Captain Scarlet was out in the foyer, watching the audience file in.  The security guards were checking tickets and while they were doing so, another guard was scanning individuals with a Mysteron detector.  Although the possibility that the Mysterons would attempt to disrupt the performance was considered slight, it was considered important to be seen to have checked everyone in the venue. 

A tannoy announced that the performance would begin in 10 minutes and asked everyone to take their places in the auditorium. Scarlet turned and, nodding to the security men, made his way in.  He realised that they were playing ‘Earth’s Shadows’ over the sound system, presumably to get people in the right frame of mind for the performance of the new work.  The familiar music had the opposite effect on Scarlet; he recognised musical phrases that had been repeated in the newer composition and focused on it straining to hear any similar dissonant sounds in the original.  He was relieved that he couldn’t detect any.   

Realising that this was, presumably, a recording of the earlier work and had probably been made some time ago, he reassured himself that whatever intrusive, subliminal programming had been present in the live performance of ‘Radiance of Eternity’, was of a far more recent origin. The downside of that was that the chances they were Mysteron-inspired was even more likely.

He glanced up to the upper floors and saw that the VIPs had started filing into the various boxes around the auditorium.  There was a smattering of applause whenever the public recognised individuals.   Scarlet saw Lady Gray walk into one of the boxes on the arm of a World Senator and look around at the auditorium before taking her seat.   He wondered if the colonel had spoken to her and explained that his men were in attendance.  In his earpiece he heard Captain Blue reporting that the orchestra were getting ready to go onstage and that Elderslie had retired into his dressing room to make his final preparations.   It was his signal to get into position.

Blue had joined his family in the VIP box closest to the orchestra, where he had a good view across the stage and of the control consoles in the wings.  He could see Captain Scarlet walking back through the auditorium to go backstage and watch from the wings. 

The first musicians were coming on stage to settle down and adjust their music stands.  The excitement in the auditorium was rising as the last few arrivals took their places.   The lights dimmed and an announcer came out to welcome the live audience in the major venues and those listening online.  She reminded everyone about the details of the programme, the restrictions on making any kind of recording and that the official recording would be available within the week for purchase and download. 

“Rigaudon Records and Mr Elderslie have announced that all proceeds from the sales will go to the World Government’s Relief Fund, helping victims of conflict and natural disasters across the globe.”

Scarlet spared a sympathetic thought for Phil Dufresne as there was a hearty round of applause for this act of benevolence.  When it died down, the announcer cried:

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr Rafe Elderslie!”

The auditorium erupted as Elderslie walked out to greet his fans.  He was dressed in a long, tailored, grey tunic with a Nehru collar and dark trousers.  His hair had been cut and styled since Scarlet had last seen him, and he exuded an air of humility that was at odds with the tyrant Blue had heard addressing the musicians.

The auditorium fizzled with excited anticipation and waves of noisy adulation engulfed the stage and Elderslie milked it for all he was worth.  His deferential acknowledgement of the welcome was toe-curling in its smugness, and it was clear to those who knew him that he was enjoying it all.

As the noise died away, he raised a hand and gave the same speech he had made at the recording studio, which was greeted with rapturous applause.

“It is clear,” Margot Svenson muttered to her companions, “that the audience are ‘Rafelites’ to a man.”

“The tickets were distributed through the Official Fan Club,” Martha confirmed.  “It was simply the easiest way to do it quickly.”

Elderslie had taken his place at the grand piano at the front of the stage and gathered the attention of his orchestra. 

From a gentle tremolo of cymbals, the music swelled into a mighty crash and the melody started.

Blue quickly recognised the same sensations he had experienced before.  It was entrancing, uplifting and engaging, filling the auditorium with a sense of calmness and well-being. 

Captain Scarlet, watching from the wings, tried to engage with the music as the rest of the audience was so obviously doing. He glanced around and saw that a look of soporific contentment was replacing the varied expressions on the attentive faces.  It was then that he became aware, on the very cusp of his conscious mind, of the low rumble of discordant notes.

 He glanced up at the VIP box and saw that Blue was as entranced as the rest.  Nevertheless he activated his radio.

“Captain Blue,” he hissed, “It’s happening again: there is a dissonance underneath the melody.  Listen! It’s like a low frequency harmony.  Captain Blue?  Blue!”

There was no reply and Scarlet thought it probable that everybody in the auditorium was already ‘hypnotised’ by the music.  The dissonance was increasing in volume and complexity and Scarlet focussed in on it, despite the ear-grating sensations it was creating. He could sense a pattern – a code?  It was definitely an organised sequence; there had to be something there. 

He tried to contact Cloudbase but without success as the music swelled to a new crescendo.  ‘I’ll have to leave the auditorium’, he thought, ‘surely I’ll get a signal outside…’

He was running along a corridor when he spotted a fire exit.  He pushed it open and propped it ajar with a fire extinguisher, before moving down the alleyway into a more open space.

“Cloudbase, Captain Scarlet reporting.  Come in Cloudbase.”

“Hearing you strength 5, Captain Scarlet.”  Jade’s voice was indistinct but decipherable.

“Elderslie’s music is having the same hypnotic effect on the audience that it had before.  There’s definitely a pattern in there - some syncopated pulses, maybe? – underlying the tune.  Get Magenta to look for that, if he hasn’t already.”

“S.I.G.,” she replied.  “Please hold, Captain…” Then there was a considerable silence before she continued: “Captain Scarlet, reports are coming in of communication blackouts around the world.  Systems are failing and connections are being lost.  Colonel White is worried about secure military communications.”  Another pause.  “Space City has lost control of the Fireball Fleet and the Lunar Colonies are not responding.  Every waveband is only relaying the music.  Captain Scarlet, your orders are to stop the concert or the transmission!”

“S.I.G.”

As he moved towards the fire exit, the extinguisher toppled over and the heavy door slammed shut. Scarlet swore.   It was always possible, he conceded, that the door was too heavy for the extinguisher to hold, but it was also more than likely that the Mysterons were playing tricks on him again.

There was no point in trying to open the door, so Scarlet raced round to the main entrance.  There was a phalanx of media reporters and cameras waiting for the VIPs to emerge.  There was a momentary interest in the tuxedo-clad man, rushing up the steps to the door, where the Security Guards moved in to prevent him entering.

“I’m Captain Scarlet, of Spectrum,” he announced in a hiss.  “Let me in.” He was rummaging in his pocket for his security pass. 

“Captain Scarlet went in earlier,” the bigger of the guards said, with a disbelieving frown.

“And then he came out again and I’m him…” Scarlet began to search his other pocket, cursing as he did so.

“So you say, sir.  Let me see your ID.”

“I’m looking for it!  I had it somewhere… ah, here.” Scarlet thrust it under the man’s nose.  “Now, let me in.”

“One minute, sir; we have to check you with a Mysteron detector…”

“No, you don’t!  Let me in!”

“Won’t take a minute, sir.” The guard turned to beckon forward his companion with the Mysteron detector. 

Scarlet took to his heels. 

The secret of his retrometabolism was unknown beyond a high-powered cabal, and to have a test done here, in full view of the world’s press, and - no doubt – be challenged on it by the uninitiated guard, was too much of a risk. 

The guard shouted and began to chase, but Scarlet jinked into the crowd and managed to lose him.   He ran until he was clear of the jeering crowd and then stopped to catch his breath and decide what to do.

He contacted Cloudbase and managed to report to Jade what had happened.  “I need Major Fulvous here; he knows me and will get me in.”

“The Captain is already inside, Captain Scarlet,” Jade informed him. “We’re unable to contact him.”

“If he’s in there he’s probably as oblivious as everyone else,” Scarlet replied.  “I’ll just have to find a way back in without his help.” 

He asked Jade to send him a schematic of the building that showed all doors and windows.  It took time for the document to download but eventually it arrived.  Scarlet anticipated that before too long even Spectrum’s wavebands would be compromised. 

Even a cursory glance at the plan suggested that the rear of the building would offer more opportunities for gaining access, as it showed a number of rooms labelled dressing, storage and rehearsal.  So he dodged down a side alley and walked along looking for an open window or door.  He’d almost completed the circuit of the building when he saw, on an upper storey, a small window partially open at the top. 

There was an old metal fire ladder close by and Scarlet pulled it down.  He climbed upwards, beyond the level of the open window, towards the roof.  The gap was too far for him to reach across by leaning but he had an idea that might just work. 

Hooking a leg around a strut he wrestled with his jacket and pulled out the leather belt from his trousers.  A quick calculation gave him the height he needed to be and he fastened the belt around the ladder, praying that the leather and buckle were strong enough for at least one attempt. 

He fastened the jacket closed again, wrapped the end of the belt around his hand and after a couple of deep breaths, exhaled and threw himself out from the ladder, swinging back towards the window feet first.   The glass shattered but the momentum was not enough to propel him through the window and he found himself with his legs over the sill and the rest of his body supported only by the belt. 

Carefully, he withdrew one leg until he could rest his foot against the building and push off again.  The broken glass embedded in the window frame sliced through his calf muscle, but Scarlet was too preoccupied with other things to do more than hiss at the pain.  His grip tightened on the belt as for a brief moment it held his entire weight as he swung back towards the wall.  His other hand reached out to grab the windowsill and he gasped with the shock as the glass cut into his flesh. 

He hung there, suspended between the ladder and the building for what felt to him like hours, while his mind came to terms with, and rejected, the screaming agony from his maimed limbs.  Panting out the breath he had not been conscious of holding, he drew in fresh lungs-full of air, steeled his mind and his body to obey his indomitable will, and, after a mental countdown of three, swung himself towards the wall and let go of the belt.  

He found himself hanging from the windowsill at arm’s length and knew that it would not be long before the glass cut through his tendons and he lost his hold.  Using all of his strength to pull himself upwards, he scrabbled with his feet to get purchase against the brickwork, and, almost sobbing with relief, hauled himself up to where he could throw his arms over the windowsill and at least relieve some of the strain on his shoulders. 

Wriggling and squirming he slowly managed to get his upper body into the room and when he slithered, bloodied and exhausted, onto the floor, he momentarily fainted from the pain.  

When he came to, he sat up gingerly and looked down at his mutilated hands.  The blood had seeped from the deep cuts into the white cuffs of his dress shirt, turning them a deep red. 

“Captain ‘scarlet’, indeed,” he muttered to himself, before examining the damage done to his leg and the tuxedo jacket by the vicious shards of glass.   He knew that he would recover from such ‘minor’ wounds in a very short time, but, nevertheless, they hurt him as much as they would have hurt any man.  It was only his strength of mind and intractable willpower that allowed him to dismiss the pain and focus on the next part of his mission.

The room was used for storing costumes and props and considering the distressed state of his tuxedo, Scarlet hunted for something else to wear.  He found an elaborate 18^th Century-style suit of breeches and frock-coat in white and gold, which wasn’t nearly as opulent close-up as it must’ve looked from a distance.  It was a little baggy, but fitted well enough.  He kept his own socks, shoes and shirt, and slipped his Spectrum pistol into the pocket.   A glance in a mirror made him grimace: I look like a rather unconvincing Prince Charming from a Christmas Panto, but it’ll have to do…

“Right,” he said to his reflection, “‘Once more unto the breach; stiffen your sinews – which appear to be on the mend anyway - and cry God for Harry, England and St George!  Only… this being America, better do it quietly; after all, we don’t want to rile the natives…”

His communication link to Cloudbase was weaker now he was in the building, but through the static he believed he could hear Jade’s voice, although her words were indecipherable.  

In the hope that she would be able to decipher what he was saying, he stated loudly and clearly: “Cloudbase, I have gained access to the Symphony Hall and I’m making my way to the auditorium.  I will stop the concert.  Captain Scarlet out.”

Chapter Five

Colonel White’s frustration was growing by the moment as his officers fought to restore, or at least improve, Spectrum’s increasingly defective lines of communication.   Lieutenant Green was summoned from monitoring the concert to assist his subordinates, and they seemed to be holding their own against the inexorable breakdown of communication networks across the globe.

Jade’s report that Captain Scarlet had gained access to the Bandranaik Hall was met with a monosyllabic ‘humph’, but White felt a surge of relief.  He had not forgotten that Olivia was amongst the audience, as well as the numerous VIPs and men under his command.   With a sudden flash of inspiration he contacted Doctor Fawn over the internal link.

“Doctor, I want you to investigate what the effect this music is having on the audience is, and how it might be overcome.  Captain Scarlet is now back in the auditorium and he does not seem to be affected in the same way as… ordinary people, but, before he does anything, he will have to evacuate the building, in case the Mysterons attempt to destroy it rather than lose their control.  I am sure he would also appreciate the assistance of the other officers there – Captain Blue and the Boston-based ground forces.”

There was a slight pause as Doctor Fawn considered the order. 

“Well, Colonel,” he replied, “I have been working with Captain Magenta on some of the recordings and so far I haven’t been able to come up with much.  I conjecture that the Mysterons are using some subliminal hypnotic programming or auto-suggestion, but how you’d overcome it, I don’t know.  It might be that something as basic as a tap on the shoulder, breaking their concentration, might be enough to release the individual, but if there’s something more than these techniques in play, and we don’t know what powers the Mysterons have in their armoury, then it may require the cessation of the stimuli and even then it may take a considerable period for the audience to ‘wake up’.”

“Do you think it will have any permanent effect?”

Another pause, a little longer this time. 

“I wouldn’t recommend letting it go on for longer than was absolutely necessary.  Beyond that, I can’t speculate with the data I have.”

“Worst case scenario, Doctor.”

“Potential brain-washing; possibly resulting in everyone becoming a Mysteron agent, in effect. But, Colonel, I must emphasise that is pure speculation on my part.”

“Noted.  Thank you, Doctor.  Keep me informed of any developments.  White out.”

The colonel turned to Lieutenant Green who was concentrating on securing Spectrum’s wavebands. 

“Lieutenant, as soon as you have secured our communications, I want you and your team to concentrate on ways of breaking the transmission links from Symphony Hall.  I want that broadcast stopped – and quickly!”

***

In the auditorium the musicians were playing the same piece of music over and over, but the audience was still listening in rapt attention.  Elderslie was no longer on the rostrum; he had gone into the recording booth where he was adjusting the controls to boost the transmission, ensuring that the impact of his music was carried around the globe.  Once he had done that he stood still, as if waiting for something. 

The door of the booth opened from the outside and Captain Black walked in.

“You have done well,” he said, glancing out at the motionless audience.   “Now it is time to introduce the second leitmotif.”

“The Mysterons’ orders shall be obeyed.” 

Elderslie left the booth, returned to the podium and picking up a conducting baton began to direct the orchestra.  Subtly the music changed, with the introduction of a new and more martial melody. 

Captain Black listened.  To him the melody was the intrusion, he was only interested in hearing and interpreting the discordant rhythm underneath.  After a minute or two he gave a brief nod.  Everything was going according to plan; Spectrum was isolated and its agents rendered helpless by the Mysterons’ hypnosis.  Only one question remained unanswered: where was Captain Scarlet? 

***

Lieutenant Green felt pride in a job well done: Spectrum’s wavebands were secure – for now.  He instructed his team to start investigating ways to block the transmission but before he joined them, he conducted one last sweep of the emergency channels. 

Something caught his attention and he focussed in on it, boosting the signal to maximum.

 It was an automatic countdown. 

He glanced at the location screen:  Frost Line Outer Space Defence System: Red Deer Base.

‘Why would the Frost Line System be about to launch – and what, and where to?’ he wondered.

He alerted the colonel to the anomaly and was deeper into the matter even before he received the order to do so.  The Seventh Generation computers on Cloudbase were amongst the most sophisticated and powerful in the world, so that, even given the poor communication between networks, using Spectrum’s wavebands they were able to interrogate the Frost Line computers and report back within minutes.

“Colonel,” Lieutenant Green called from his position at the far end of the data-bank screen, “The Frost Line’s Red Deer base’s missiles are targeted on Futura, New York, Brussels and London, sir.”

“What in tarnation?  Has Ward gone mad?”

“Sir, I don’t think General Ward has anything to do with it.  I think this is the automatic launch system acting independently of manual input.”

“Lieutenant?”

“It’s doing it on its own volition, sir.”

“Automatic launch systems don’t do things on their own volition.  Orders must have reached it somehow.”  White glowered into the middle-distance and a look of horror came over his face.  “Lieutenant Green, get every officer working on a two-pronged counter-attack: stop that transmission and ensure every military force’s automatic systems are locked down until further notice.  I don’t care how you have to do it – just get it done!”

“S.I.G., sir.”  Green pressed the red alert warning and began to issue orders.

White contacted the Angels:

“Angel Leader and all Angels: this is a red alert.  Missiles are on automatic countdown for launch from the Frost Defence Line.” He punched in the global co-ordinates. “You must prevent these missiles from reaching their targets: Futura, New York, Brussels and London.  Seek and destroy.”

“Angel Leader: message received and understood, Colonel.”

“Godspeed, Angels.  Cloudbase out.”

***

High above the north-east coast of America, the five pilots turned north-west and streaked into the empty sky, reviewing the situation as they went.

“Why Futura, New York, Brussels and London?” Harmony asked.

“I think it must be the World Government’s offices, the World Senate, the European Triumvirate HQ and Spectrum’s major terrestrial base,” Rhapsody explained. 

“Why would General Ward target them?” said Harmony.

“My guess is that it’s the Mysterons: something to do with the Elderslie transmission,” Symphony replied.

“That is a good point,” Destiny agreed.  “The music has hypnotised everyone hearing it, and, per’aps, it now begins to attack us?”

“Whatever the reason,” Melody said firmly, “we have our orders:  seek and destroy.  We’re gonna do this and we’re gonna do it right!  Strike pattern Delta 3 on approach.  We don’t have time to be too particular: destroy Red Deer base.”

Destiny gasped.  “There will be men working there.  We should not fire on them.”

“If they’re hypnotised by the Elderslie transmission, we’re not gonna be able to warn them, Destiny.  However, Rhapsody Angel, please contact the base and broadcast red alert evacuation procedures.  Repeat until we have visual.”

“S.I.G., Angel Leader.”

“Let’s hope we get there before the countdown finishes.  Those babies will be much tougher to destroy in the air,” Symphony remind them.

“Good point, Symphony Angel.”  Melody sounded grim.  “Increase speed to ultimate and let’s get a move on.”

***

Captain Scarlet moved along the corridors of Bandranaik Hall with caution.  He was reasonably sure that everyone would be ‘engrossed’ in the concert, but he wasn’t taking any risks.  As it was, he saw no one until he was on the staircase leading to the upper gallery seats.  A lone usherette was standing gazing tranquilly into the middle distance as the strains of the music played over the internal tannoy. 

‘Elderslie’s thought of everything.’  Scarlet conceded, as he walked past the woman, who gave no sign of having noticed him.  With increased confidence he hurried to the stairs and down to the next level and entered the auditorium.

The seats were full and every head was turned to the stage.  The orchestra were playing like automatons and the tune was increasingly fragmented by discordant phrases and sounds.  The low rumble of the pulsing rhythm was more evident than before to Scarlet’s ears, and he was sure that Cloudbase must’ve registered its presence and be working to decipher and disable it.

He moved to the front of the gallery and stood gazing down at the stage.  He registered that Elderslie was not there and looked around the auditorium, partly to see him and partly to get his bearings.  He saw Blue in the box with his family opposite Lady Gray and a small group of VIPs.  He was going to need help… the obvious solution was to get Blue – although how he might get through to him remained a problem: he certainly couldn’t attract his attention from here.

There was no sign of Elderslie.   He scanned the auditorium carefully, in case the man was amongst the audience, but without success. He was about to turn away and head for Captain Blue, when a movement at the side of the stage caught his eye. Although there were deep shadows along one side, he could make out the figure of a man and was sure it had not been there before.  As he watched he saw a ripple of movement in the darkness and caught the dull thud of a closing door moments later. 

‘Elderslie – he must’ve seen me,’ Scarlet thought. 

He had no doubt now that the composer was a Mysteron agent and that he would do all he could to prevent Spectrum from stopping the concert’s transmission.  There were two possible destinations: to accost Scarlet himself with a view to killing him, or to the transmission booth to defend that from Spectrum’s attack.  The obvious move was to head for the transmission booth drawing his enemy after him and away from the defenceless – and un-defendable - audience. 

Without understanding why, except that he had always trusted to his luck, Scarlet filled his lungs and yelled into the vast space:

“Captain Blue!  Spectrum is Red! Action stations: S.I.R.!”

***

Captain Magenta called through to Colonel White:

“Sir, I have picked up Captain Scarlet in the transmission.”  He played back the recording and it was possible to hear Scarlet’s defiant shout, which the recording microphones in the auditorium had no doubt picked up.

White was relieved to know that his premier agent was active and following his orders to stop the transmission.  He wondered if Blue had also escaped the thrall of the music, although that was a lot to hope for. 

“Keep listening out for any further ‘messages’, Captain Magenta,” he said.  “If Scarlet realises he’s been heard, he may try to keep us posted, or ask for assistance that way.  It is obvious that his communication devices are inoperable in the building.”

“S.I.G., Colonel.”

As the communication link closed, Colonel White muttered to himself: “Come on, Captain Scarlet, the success of this mission depends on you!”

***

The Angels were approaching Red Deer Base.  Rhapsody reported that there had been no response to her repeated red alert calls and Melody was steeling herself to order the destruction of the base, even though it was still fully manned. 

“Harmony to Angel Leader:  Look, Melody, the missile silos are open and the weapons are ready to fire!”

Even as the words were spoken the three rockets began to rise into the open, accelerating all the time. 

“Attack pattern Delta 6,” Melody ordered.  “Continual rapid fire in sequence once they are clear of the silos. If they reach full velocity we may not be able to outrun them, so don’t miss!”

A chorus of ‘S.I.G.s’ acknowledged this order and following Angel One the jets began to attack.  The Frost Line Defence missiles were amongst the most formidable in the World Government’s armoury, designed to withstand the rigours of space travel and potential attack by alien weapons.  The Angels hit their targets but nothing seemed to stop the missiles as they continued to climb.  It quickly became clear that their routes were starting to diverge.

“Angel Leader, I suggest we target the exhaust jets.  The nosecones will be the most reinforced part of the missile, but if we could ignite the fuel, it’s possible the missiles will explode,” Symphony said.  “It’s better they do that here than over a populated area.”

“S.I.G.,” Melody replied.  “Destiny and Harmony, take the left-hand missile, Rhapsody and Symphony, the right.  I’ll take the central one.”

“Be careful, Melody; you could be caught in the blast,” said Destiny.

“Don’t worry, Honey; I will.”

Destiny and Harmony wheeled left in order to bear on the missile and Rhapsody and Symphony peeled off to the right.  Melody followed the trajectory of the central missile and glanced to either side estimating the growing distances.

Destiny and Harmony were swooping in on their target, below the height of the missile and suddenly coming up underneath it.  Harmony fired, jinking down and away to come round again, if there was a need.  Destiny followed sending a shot dead centre of the fuel exhaust.  There was a flare but it came to nothing.  On the right, Rhapsody and Symphony had done the same with nothing to show. 

“Again,” Melody ordered as she brought her plane to bear on the central missile and flew low and close to the exhaust.  She fired twice and dropped down, flying away as quickly as she could, before circling to return. 

On their third sorties, Harmony and Destiny had a perfect run and there was an explosion that sent the missile off course but failed to destroy it.  Rhapsody and Symphony, following Melody’s example, came in as close as possible and both fired several times.  Melody fired at the left hand missile as it roared in front of her and it crashed into the central missile.

The explosion was enormous and the blast field sent all three Angel jets tumbling away.  Harmony was the first to right herself and flew to join the other two Angels still firing at the right-hand missile, which had escaped unharmed.

Destiny fought for control of her plane as it was buffeted by the blast and by accelerating managed to outrun the turbulence.  She turned and saw that Melody’s plane had been hit by shrapnel and was diving down towards the snow-covered wilderness. 

“Eject, Melody,” she cried in alarm.  “Eject!”

For a tense moment there was no sign of life inside the now smoke-filled cockpit, but then the canopy flew open and Melody’s seat rocketed skywards.  As the parachute deployed, Destiny could see her friend was conscious and apparently unharmed.

Angel One hit the ground and quickly became a ball of fire as the fuel ignited.

“Melody Angel to Destiny Angel: over to you.  You are now Angel Leader.  Finish the job.”

“S.I.G., Melody.  We’ll be back for you.”

Destiny assumed command and joined the other three planes dogging the remaining missile.  “All Angels, rapid fire into the exhaust,” she ordered.

Rhapsody went first, firing until she had to swerve away.  Symphony was on her tail and swerved to the other side at the last moment.  Harmony was close behind and it was her plane that caught the explosion, spinning away with the blast. 

The others watched as Harmony fought for control.  She was now too low to eject safely and there was a danger that a wing might hit the tree tops, but Harmony was a superb pilot and with great skill and courage, she regained control and rose back into the sky to rejoin her comrades.

“Well done,” Destiny said, as Harmony drew alongside her.  She contacted Cloudbase.  “Colonel, I can report that all three Frost Line’s Red Deer missiles are destroyed.  One plane lost, but all pilots safe. We will collect Melody and return to Cloudbase.”

“S.I.G., Destiny.  Well done, Angels.  However, I want the four of you to return to the Boston area.  That is where I’m expecting the next attack to materialise.  Ground forces will collect Melody Angel. They are already on their way to the base.”

“Angel Leader to Colonel White: S.I.G.; Angel Leader out.”  She cut the link and addressed the others.  “Did you hear, girls?  Melody will be picked up by Ground Forces and we are ordered again to Boston. I will inform Melody as we depart.  Speed ultimate: the Mysterons are not yet defeated!”

***

Captain Scarlet was running down the carpeted stairways and along the curve of the auditorium towards the box where Blue was sitting.  He had decided that it was worth a detour to try and break Blue from the hypnotic trance induced by the music so that he could begin to rouse and evacuate the audience.  Stopping the concert might involve killing Elderslie and he’d rather not have to deal with the consequences of that having been witnessed by thousands of devoted ‘Rafelites’.   Even if they were not all under the Mysterons’ control, he doubted they’d accept their idol being gunned down by a Spectrum agent with equanimity.

He sometimes wondered if the decision not to inform the general public of the full extent of the threat the Mysterons posed was the right one.  The World Government had been concerned that any resulting global panic would make things far more difficult to control, but this general ignorance about the threat the Earth faced created plenty of additional problems for Spectrum.

He paused momentarily to get his bearings and reassure himself he was now on the right level and corridor to Blue’s box. There was a sharp crack, which made him jump, and a whiff of cordite.

The shot wasn’t far-wide. He spun round, digging his pistol from the pocket of the tunic as he flung open the nearest door and dodged behind it for protection.    He was back in the balcony of the auditorium on a level with the VIP boxes.   Rather than risk going back out into the corridor, he scampered down the stairs to the balustrade and peered out.  Elderslie was not on the podium, so it was possible that he was the shooter. 

He moved in front of the first row of the audience towards Captain Blue.  Even with the jangle of the ‘music’ he caught the sound of the door thudding closed.  He was being stalked. 

Slipping his pistol back into the tunic pocket, he clambered out over the balustrade and edged along, hanging over the stalls on the ground floor.  The curve of the balustrade left a gap of a few feet and he was able to swing across and grab the rail of the first box.  He did not recognise any of the occupants, all of whom were sitting perfectly still with all of their attention focussed on the orchestra.  He edged along swinging his body to generate momentum.  Between the boxes the balustrade was connected to the wall, with a small gap between.  He reached out and grabbed the handrail.

As he swung onto Blue’s box, there was another shot. 

The bullet buried itself in his back and the shock made him lose the grip of his left hand.  Breathing heavily and fighting the agony, he forced his arm to rise and grab hold again.  He swung along, grimacing in pain.  Sweat was making his hands slippery and running down his face.  By sheer willpower, he edged along until he was almost where Blue was sitting, beside Cori.   

“Captain Blue,” he gasped.  “Blue! 

Oh please, please God, make him hear me…

“Adam!” 

As there was no response to his increasingly desperate calls, Scarlet wracked his brain for another way to attract help.   Gritting his teeth, he let go with his left hand and fished for the handkerchief he’d noticed in the sleeve of the costume.   With a superhuman effort, he ripped it out and screwed it into a ball, throwing it, as best he could, towards his partner in the hope of attracting attention.

“Adam, wake up!” he yelled again, allowing his throbbing left arm to dangle for a moment. 

He cursed under his breath as he realised he couldn’t raise it again and he wasn’t going to be able to hold on for much longer.  The fall onto the stalls below was far enough to kill him, especially given his weakened state, and the prospect that the Mysterons would succeed in their attack was heart-wrenching. 

“Paul?”

He looked up in surprise.  Cori was leaning towards him; she looked slightly bewildered and dazed, but she was holding his handkerchief.

“What on Earth are you doing?” she asked. “Why’re you in fancy dress?”

“Cori, please… help me up!  Or, better still, get Adam to help me.  I’m going to fall.”

“You’ll ruin the recording again.”  She sounded annoyed with him.

“I’ll square it with Phil later.  Help me, quickly!”

Nodding, she turned to her brother and poked him in the ribs. “Stop pretending you can’t hear Paul and help him.”

Blue came to with a start and pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to focus.  “What’s up?” he hissed angrily at his sister.

She pointed.  “Paul’s stuck.”

Blue gawped for a moment and sprang to his feet.  He leant over and, grabbing Scarlet under the arms, heaved him up into the box without much apparent effort.

“Why’re you dressed like that? What’s been going on?” he asked Scarlet.

“I’ve gone undercover and there isn’t time to explain.”

“You’ve been shot.”

“Well spotted.”

“Who was it?” Blue examined the bullet-hole in Scarlet’s back, making sure that Cori’s view was blocked by his body.

“I couldn’t see clearly.  Someone shot at me in the corridor as I made my way here and then followed me into the auditorium.  I don’t know why he didn’t finish me off while I hanging there.  I couldn’t have got away unless I’d dropped into the stalls.”

Blue could see that Scarlet was shaking with shock and loss of blood, his eyes were already losing focus and he was fighting to retain consciousness.  He propped him against the balustrade and told Cori to get some water from the dispenser discreetly installed at the rear of every box. 

Scarlet looked up with a grateful smile; however, he knew he was losing his fight for life and that he had to brief Blue before it was too late.

“Listen.  Everyone’s hypnotised and the concert transmission’s blocking communication links – even secure ones. I think Cloudbase is still open.  My orders were to stop the concert or the transmission.  You must do it now; I’m going to need time to retrometabolise.”

Blue nodded and suggested: “Maybe that’s why they didn’t kill you outright?  All they needed was you out of action long enough for whatever they’ve got planned to take effect.”

Blue turned to see where Cori was with the water and saw her dawdling by the water fountain, in thrall to the music again.  With a sudden grimace of remembrance, he reached into his pocket and inserted two ear plugs, gave Scarlet an apologetic smile and went to fetch the water and his sister.   

By the time he got back, Scarlet was dead. 

Blue sat Cori down and waited until she drifted off again.  He was no longer surprised that it didn’t take long; he had intended to put the ear plugs in before he was affected but realised it must’ve been almost instantaneous at the start of the music.

“At least this way she won’t realise you’re dead,” he told the corpse.  “I’ve left two cups of water by your side.  There’s more by the entrance to the box.  Try and find a way to let me know when you surface... and come and find me.  I’m going to stop the transmission.  Good luck, Paul.”

Blue moved into the corridor, carefully checking that there was nobody waiting to ambush him.  He opened the Cloudbase link on his communication device and could just make out the voices at the other end.

“Captain Blue, where’s Captain Scarlet?” Colonel White demanded.

“He’s dead, sir.  He told me his orders were to stop the concert or the transmission.  I’ve taken that on, sir, until Scarlet can rejoin me.”

“Get on with it, man! The Mysterons have already used the transmission to launch Frost Line Defence Missiles.  The Angels dealt with that, but I’m aware that there are plenty of other automated launch systems around the globe.  Spectrum can’t protect them all.  That transmission must be stopped!”

“S.I.G, Colonel.  Someone shot Scarlet.  I’m assuming it was Elderslie, and am alerting you to the fact that, if necessary, I intend to kill him.”

“S.I.G., Captain; as far as I’m aware Elderslie may be the only person never tested with the Mysteron detector. Just be as sure as you can be that he is a Mysteron before you eliminate him, Blue.  But, if you can’t be certain, do it anyway.”

Colonel White couldn’t see the wry smile on Blue’s face but he could sense it in his tone of voice as he replied: “S.I.G., Colonel.  Blue out.”

Checking his Spectrum pistol was fully loaded, Blue walked quickly down the corridor towards the main staircase.  He had the advantage on Captain Scarlet as he was familiar with the layout of the building from the volunteer work his mother had done there over the years, and he knew how to get to the administration rooms and the transmission booth.  His intention was to stop the transmission and then deal with stopping the orchestra, which would hopefully wake the audience from their stupor.

He moved quickly past the spellbound staff and security guards in the main foyer and through the entrance to the back offices.  He hurried to the transmission booth and, after scouting around for ambush or booby-traps, had his hand on the doorknob when a chilling and familiar voice said:

“Drop the gun, Captain Blue, and raise your hands and turn around.  Don’t even think about making any other move, or I will kill you where you stand.”

Blue hesitated, then carefully let his pistol fall to the floor and raised his hands before turning slowly.  He knew what he’d see, but still gave a gasp of dismay at the sight of Captain Black. 

Black was dressed in his Spectrum uniform, presumably to blend in with the other Spectrum agents and ensure any blame for the fallout from these events was reflected onto them. 

Blue studied the face he had once known, with a fearful fascination.  Black’s skin was grey and he looked ill: his pallor emphasised a heavy 5 o’clock shadow, as well as the darkness of his hair, emphatic eyebrows and uniform.  The rims of his deep-brown eyes were red, as if he hadn’t slept for a considerable time and he was gaunt.  However, despite his deathly appearance, Blue had no doubt that the man was dangerous, with the fitness and capacity to carry out whatever orders his alien masters had in mind.

The former colleagues stood in silence, for what felt to Blue like an unconscionably long time, and, as with so many people, he felt obliged to make ‘small talk’ and banish the silence.

“What are you doing here?”

Black glanced at him with patronising distain. 

“The Mysterons’ plans are in place.  The music will incapacitate every human that hears it, and the transmissions are sending coded signals to military complexes around the globe to unleash devastating war across the planet, using Mankind’s own weapons against themselves.”

“Spectrum will never let that happen,” Blue responded sharply.

“Spectrum will soon cease to represent any threat,” said Black, almost casually. 

“No, Conrad, you’re wrong.  You underestimate us.  As long as one Spectrum officer remains we will oppose the Mysterons.  The Angel Strike Force has prevented the Mysterons’ attempt to strike at us through the Frost Defence Line.  You’ve lost, Captain Black.”

Black appeared unconcerned.  “Spectrum is right to enjoy its petty triumphs while it can.  That feint was but the start of what will be a concerted universal attack.  Every note that is transmitted delivers more instructions to your security programs and there’s nothing you, Spectrum, or anyone on the planet, can do to prevent it.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.  Mankind has survived everything Fate has thrown at us, so far.   We don’t give up easily.”

“You continue your futile defence against us, even though you know it cannot succeed. The Mysterons will now deal you a crippling blow.  We are aware of Mankind’s capacity for blame and distrust and, after this, what is left of your puny civilisation will tear itself apart in recriminations. “

“We’re not so stupid as to play into the Mysterons’ hands, Conrad.  We believed the Mysterons when they stated they are peaceful beings, and we have sought to make peace with them.  What happened on Mars was a mistake: an all too human error.  You, of all people should understand that.”

“You started the shockwave with your unprovoked attack on our complex. You will pay for this act of aggression. The Mysterons’ revenge will be slow but none the less effective.”

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” Captain Scarlet said, as he emerged from the shadow of the corridor with a gun in his hand and a determined look on his face.

“Scarlet!”  Black hissed, swinging round to glance at his former field partner.

“You’re under arrest, Conrad Turner,” Scarlet snapped, his pistol trained on Black.  “Take his gun, Captain Blue.”

Blue stepped forward and took the gun from Black’s unresisting hand.  He glanced at his partner with a slight smile on his face. 

“Good timing, Captain.”

“Retrometabolism is a law unto itself, Captain, but I’m beginning to realise that when the chips are down, it can act pretty quickly.”

Black gave a snort of derision. “’Retrometabolism’: you don’t understand what this power is or how to control it, and you never will.  Only the Mysterons have the power of reversing matter.”

“The Mysterons – and me,” Scarlet reminded him.  “For whatever reason, with the Mysterons’ blessing or without it, I recover from whatever life or my erstwhile masters throw at me.  I may never know why I can do this but, rest assured, I will use it against the Mysterons to save my friends, my species and my planet. As long as the life flows back into this body, you can tear me limb from limb, blow me up, shoot me, bury me or burn me, but I will still come after you.”

Black looked mildly impressed at this declaration, but he said nothing.

Blue, who had listened with obvious surprise, raised his eyebrows and muttered to himself, “Maybe it wasn’t only retrometabolism Scarlet got from the Mysterons...?”

Black’s glance flicked to the American and he said, “Paul Metcalfe was always a wilful and stubborn man who could hold a grudge with the best of them.”

“That’s enough!  Blue, get in there and stop the transmission.  Shoot the place to bits if you have to.  I’ll watch Black.”

The fact that Blue hesitated before he replied, “S.I.G.,” and handed Black’s gun to Scarlet, told the Englishman more than his field partner could have realised. He watched as Blue opened the door to the transmission room and disappeared inside.

“He’ll never trust you completely and, if he can’t, none of them will,” Black said conversationally.

“Shut up.”

“That was a brave speech, Paul; I only hope you’re prepared for an infinite amount of pain.”

“Shut up.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way.  We can give you everything you want.”

“The Mysterons couldn’t begin to understand what I want.”

“You want answers,” said Black.

Scarlet did a double take and couldn’t bear the confident expression on Black’s face.  He acknowledged to himself that answers about what had happened to him, why it had happened and what the long-term result would be, were uppermost in his mind.  His case was beyond everything known to science and Doctor Fawn, strive as he might, was unable to provide answers to the questions that gnawed at Scarlet’s very being. 

The silence lengthened as Black watched the changing emotions on Scarlet’s face.  

“We’re the same, you and I.  We were partners and, in case you’ve forgotten, friends.  We could be again.  Come back to us, Paul.  Together we can wrap this up in no time and the Mysterons will be grateful.  Everything you could want, for ever: an eternity of perfect comfort and safety.”

Scarlet’s black brows lowered over his deep-blue eyes.

“D’you really think I’d sell out my species for ‘perfect comfort and safety’?  You don’t know me, Conrad: you can never have known me!  What I want is this world: this blue, white and green planet with all of its faults and imperfections.  I want to see the human race, however ‘imperfect’ it is, safe and secure.  The Mysterons may consider that Mankind’s fate doesn’t deserve consideration, but I don’t think like that.  I know this body is alien – freakish, even – but my soul is as human as the next man’s. I would never betray my planet or my species, and you can tell your masters that!”

“You will regret your decision, Paul; the Mysterons will not ask twice.”

“Save your breath, Conrad, that dog won’t fight.”

“Do you think these humans will thank you for all the suffering?”

“No, I don’t, because they will never know.” 

“Even if they did, do you think they’d accept you as a ‘good’ Mysteron? They’d turn on you, as they turned on the Mysterons, and destroy you with the same lack of compunction with which they destroyed our Martian Complex.”

“There is such a thing as gratitude, you know, and loyalty.  But from your speech I guess you’re on the aliens’ side now.”

“Humans have a nasty habit of forgetting what they owe to their heroes.  Even those who will know of your ‘sacrifice’ won’t make allowances for ever. They would certainly never make allowances for me.  So, what will you do when the Mysterons are victorious and all life on Earth is destroyed?”

“It never will be while I’m on the planet.”

“All alone on a barren rock.”

Scarlet smiled.  “I don’t believe you expect that to ever happen.  The Mysterons must fear failure to send you to try and win me over, Conrad.  For myself, I’ve always believed that ‘while there’s life there’s hope’, and because the Mysterons have made me indestructible there will always be hope.”

“You see yourself as some sort of saviour for Mankind? How appropriate at this time of year.”

“I see myself as a human being, one of the many fighting to protect my family and my home.  For your information, I see the Mysterons as vindictive and malevolent, without the capacity for forgiveness, fair dealing and empathy that characterises Mankind.   Those characteristics make them the Mysterons’ superiors, in spite of whatever remarkable powers the Mysterons possess.  You know that even you, despite your treachery, will be taken to Futura and tried, in accordance with the laws promulgated by the World Government.  You will have a chance to put your case and consideration will be given to any mitigating circumstance. There will be no summary justice on Earth, unlike Mars.”

Black gave a slight smile but said nothing.

“I hope you can live with your conscience over the millennia, Conrad. I really do,” Scarlet concluded.

“How you have always loved to stand on the moral high ground, Paul.”

“Shut up. You’ve said more than enough.”

Black shrugged indifferently. After a pause he said: “I wonder what’s taking Blue so long.”

Scarlet frowned and instinctively glanced towards the transmission room. 

In the split second that his attention was distracted, Black struck. He rammed the heel of his hand under Scarlet’s chin, knocking his head back and throwing the younger man off balance. Scarlet staggered into the wall with a heavy thud.  Dazed, he shook his head and immediately went onto the counter-attack, throwing a punch that caught Black on the temple even as he swerved to avoid it.

Both men slid to the floor in a tangle of limbs, punching and gouging like street fighters.  Black pinned Scarlet on the floor close to the wall and pummelled his face with his fists.  In desperation, realising he was close to unconsciousness, Scarlet arched his back, thrusting off the ground with his shoulders and feet, so that Black was bucked off and landed awkwardly next to his opponent. 

Scarlet rolled over, pinning Black down while he was winded and landed a mistimed blow on Black’s throat, choking him.

Breathless from the blood flowing from his shattered nose, Scarlet stood, and wiped his face with the back of his hand, unintentionally smearing blood and mucus across his mouth and chin.

“Get up,” he ordered.

Black didn’t move.

“Get up.” 

Scarlet kicked impatiently at the motionless body, hearing the crack of rib bones under the impact. Panting through the blood and sniffing, in a pointless attempt to stop the flow, Scarlet leant against the wall.  “Get up,” he muttered, as he fought to stay conscious.  Black still didn’t move.  Scarlet’s patience ran out.

“Oh, for Chrissake, Conrad; stop pissing about, you fucking arsehole.”

Panting heavily, he leant over, hands braced on his thighs to support himself.  The blood dripped onto the corridor floor but Scarlet felt his laboured breathing ease. 

He kicked Black again, still believing he was feigning injury.  There was no movement or response.

“Shit, Conrad; quit fooling.” 

Scarlet crouched and warily examined his erstwhile friend.  Black was perfectly still and it was apparent that he was not breathing.  Scarlet shook him. 

“Conrad…  Con.” 

The door to the transmission room opened and Scarlet looked up to see Captain Blue emerging.

“What the hell happened to you?” he asked.

“Black attacked me.  I’ve… I’ve killed him.”

Blue grinned triumphantly.  “Well done!  I’ll order someone to bring a Mysteron gun and make sure he stays dead.”

Scarlet looked horrified. “Adam – it’s Conrad…” he protested.

Blue stared at him and the expression in his grey-blue eyes was merciless.

“Those punches must’ve addled your wits: he’s a Mysteron agent, the worst one there is.  We’ve been after him since the Zero X landed.  The Colonel will be ecstatic.  We might even get some extra leave on the strength of this.”

Scarlet scrambled to his feet, staring at Blue in bewilderment. “Doesn’t it matter to you?”

“No. Should it?”

“He was our colleague and… and my friend.”

“He was; but now he’s just a mass-murderer with a sadistic streak wider than the Mississippi. He’s no loss, Captain,” said Blue emphatically.

Scarlet had always known that Blue wouldn’t hesitate to use an electron rifle on him, if he considered that the Mysterons had regained their control, and he recalled Black’s prophetic words with a sense of irony.   Still, he had made his choice and now he must live with it, presumably for ever. 

He rubbed his forehead with a blood-smeared hand. 

“Yeah.  Yeah, you’re right.  This is no place for sentiment.  Fry the bastard,” he said in profoundly cynical indifference.

Blue gave a brisk nod of his head. 

Seeking to take his mind off the distasteful and inevitable conclusion of this mission, Scarlet asked: “Have you stopped the transmission?”

Blue nodded, but looked slightly puzzled. 

“Yes; eventually.  At first everything I touched made no difference.  Lights lit up and flashed and flickered, but the machine kept going.  Then suddenly, almost as I gave up and was thinking of shooting it up, as you suggested, the whole thing closed down.”

Realisation dawned on Scarlet.  “Blue, the orchestra’s stopped playing…”

Tentatively Blue removed one ear plug and concentrated on the absence of music.   He nodded.  Scarlet was surprised at the absence of visible elation at their success. 

As if answering his partner’s unasked question, Blue explained:  “I think we were too late.  Whatever it was the Mysterons wanted transmitted has already been sent.” 

“You don’t think this is over?”

Blue shook his head and activated his communication device.  He got through to Cloudbase on a much improved line.

“Hearing you strength 8, Captain,” Lieutenant Green reported, relief in his voice.  “Please report.”

“Captain Scarlet has killed Captain Black,” Blue said, glancing covertly at his partner through narrowed eyes.

“Killed?  Please repeat.”

“You heard me right, Lieutenant: killed as in: d-e-a-d.  I need a Mysteron gun to make sure there is no… recovery.  The transmission has ceased, although that had little to do with me, I suspect, and is probably because the orchestra’s stopped playing.”

Colonel White’s voice cut in: “Excellent news, Captain.  What is Captain Scarlet’s current status?”

Blue gave Scarlet another glance and the slightest of smiles appeared at the corners of his mouth.  “Bloodied but unbowed, Colonel.”

“Excellent.”

Blue could hear noise from the auditorium as, presumably, the audience awoke from their stupor.  He advised the colonel and asked, “Further orders, sir?”

“Do not evacuate the building until everyone has been checked by Mysteron detector.  Find Elderslie; my gut feeling is that he’s already a Mysteron agent and I want him found before we have more trouble. Once Black has been… that is, after you’ve used the Mysteron gun, bring his body to Cloudbase.  Do not leave the corpse unattended.”

“S.I.G., sir.” Blue hesitated and then confided: “I’m concerned that whatever the Mysterons had planned through the transmission and the music, has been completed.  The system wouldn’t respond to my instructions and then… it suddenly shut itself off.”

“Noted, Captain.  Cloudbase is still on red alert and we’ll maintain surveillance until we have full confidence that everything’s back to normal.”

“Whatever that is,” Blue muttered quietly to Scarlet.  Aloud he said, “S.I.G., Colonel.  Captain Blue out.”

Chapter Six

Cloudbase’s numerous communication stations were humming and reports were flying up to the Control Room so regularly that Lieutenant Green was having difficulty fielding them.

“Another one, Colonel,” he reported.  “Base Concord and several of the other Variable Geometry Rocket silos are reporting lock-down of their launch systems.  But the automated countdown has started in two bases: Goodwill and Accordance.”

“Any further news from Cariboo, Big Bear or Elk?”

Green shook his head and reminded him:  “General Ward is still demanding to speak to you, sir.”

“He can wait,” Colonel White snapped, adding with a sigh, “At least he can’t fire the rockets towards Mars.”

“I did relay the request that the Frost Defence Line notify us of the targets their missiles have been programmed for, sir.  I’m not sure General Ward will tell us, though.”

“Get me the SCEF, Lieutenant; I’d like to see Ward argue with him!”

“S.I.G., sir.”

Green’s chair scooted down the long line of computer screens and monitors to the non-Spectrum secure networks.  He paged the Supreme Commander Earth Forces as Priority One from Colonel White.  The response was quick and he patched the call through to the colonel before continuing to check the incoming reports.

White had a brief and firm conversation with the SCEF and, shortly afterwards, every available military plane with any sort of attack capability was ordered to take off and patrol the skies.  Their orders were to attack any deadly automatic missiles the Mysterons had launched against any terrestrial target; even those of belligerent non-World Government States.   The airborne Angel Jets led the fight against the remaining Frost Defence Line Bases, while the entire fleet of Spectrum Passenger Jets went into action, as back-up for the heavier-armed military attack jets. 

Colonel White waited anxiously to hear if their new offensive was successful.  He realised that, if it wasn’t, the Mysterons would have a clear pathway to achieving their stated aim of eliminating all life on the planet, because the Earth had thrown everything it’d got against this attack.   Moreover, even if the human race did succeed in thwarting this, the military and security forces would need to reconsider the security protocols for every site with any weaponry, for it was now clear that the Mysterons were not above using their own armaments against them.  Not only that, but, as even innocuous events could be suborned into lethal ones, life on the planet had suddenly become a lot more complicated and extremely dangerous.

***

In Boston, Blue had ordered a Mysteron gun for use on Captain Black, but Major Fulvous replied that, as all of his men were busy evacuating the auditorium and testing everyone with the Mysteron detector before they were allowed to leave - in accordance with the colonel’s direct order – there was no one available to bring it immediately. 

“I’ll send someone as soon as I can, Captain,” he repeated, in the face of Blue’s vehement protest.  “There are two colour-captains guarding the corpse, surely that’s enough to be going on with?  As soon as I can, Captain, you have my word.  Fulvous out.”

Scarlet gave a wry chuckle as Blue let rip with a string of obscenities.

“Look at it from his point of view, Blue: Black’s dead and the colonel isn’t.  Which one would you avoid annoying?”

“It only takes one man to bring the gun here.  Fulvous is an idiot!”

“Agreed; but in this circumstance he is the commanding officer and he’s obeying his commander’s orders.  The military are trained to do what they’re told by superior officers… initiative doesn’t win you promotion.”

“Didn’t do you any harm,” Blue retorted. 

Scarlet gave a cynical tilt of his head. 

“I was a pain in the arse of every commanding officer I had.  One sure-fire way to remove annoying subordinates is to promote them somewhere else…”  He groaned slightly and stretched his aching limbs.  “As long as Black stays dead, what’s the hurry?”

“Can we guarantee he’ll stay dead?” Blue snapped.

“No, but there are two of us… well, one-and-a-half, and we’ll just kill him again if we have to.”

“Are you okay?” Blue asked belatedly.

“Getting to be; don’t panic.”

“I wasn’t panicking, I was concerned.”

“Of course; you’re all heart.”

“Paul…” Blue hesitated and Scarlet gave him a quizzical glance. “I’m sorry… for the things I said earlier.  I was out of order.”

“Huh; you were telling the truth as you really see it, for once.”

“No, I was being a complete jerk.”

“I thought so.”

Having determined to apologise, Blue continued: “I know you’re as human as I am; I know that whatever they did to you didn’t change the essential Paul Metcalfe.  It’s just that… I worry about Cori; you see, some years ago, because of the way I blunder about in my dealings with people, I hurt her badly.”

“I don’t suppose she believes it was intentional,” Scarlet muttered, somewhat embarrassed by his companion’s uncharacteristic openness.

 “Oh, she did and she still does.  I love my sister, but at the time I never gave her a second thought and… I caused her a lot of grief.  So, now when I get over-protective, she doesn’t believe I mean it and she resents it.”

“Whatever did you do?” Scarlet asked.

Blue looked away and then gave a resigned shrug of his shoulder, as if deciding that, having come so far, he needed to make a clean breast of it.   

“I first met Floyd Franklyn when he was dating Cori. She’d been one of the models used in filming one of his music videos and they’d sort of got it together.  I was home from Harvard for the holidays when she brought him to the house.  It was easy enough to see that she was in love with him, or thought she was; but FloLyn’s not the kind of person to keep things exclusive.  Yet he came round to the house a good deal, so we supposed the feelings were mutual.  Until he made a pass at me…”

“Oh boy…” Scarlet could see where this was leading.

“Well, Cori found out.  In fact, Floyd probably told her, it’s the kind of thing he’d do; and she was devastated.  Bad enough to lose your lover to another woman, but to your brother?  You can imagine what the atmosphere at home was like after that hit the fan. Mom may not have wanted a rock star for her daughter’s lover, but she sure as Hell didn’t want him for her son’s.   It was one of the reasons I applied to the World Aeronautical Society rather than start working with Dad; I wanted to be as far away from Boston as I could be.”

“Your family didn’t know you were gay?”

“I’m not.  Not exclusively.  Although I was only 18, I’d been at Harvard for two years, so I thought I was all kinds of sophisticated.  In fact, I was utterly naïve, incredibly flattered and… very stupid.  It shouldn’t have happened, I shouldn’t have let it happen, but it did.”

“But at that party we went to at your dad’s place – you and FloLyn…?”

“Aww, he was just trying it on; he likes to think he has everyone permanently under his thumb.”

“I… I didn’t see you objecting,” Scarlet remarked, recalling the way Blue’s hands had been gripping Franklyn’s backside as the man pressed close. 

“Why should I?”

Scarlet shrugged. “If you regret it now …”

“I don’t.  I only regret the hurt I caused my sister.  We’d been close growing up, but I destroyed her faith in me.  Our relationship has never really recovered, although we’re at least talking to each other now; there have been times when we weren’t.  Currently, the problem is that she can’t get over the idea that I’m planning to make a move on you, of course.”

“Yes, I sort of gathered that.  You’re not, are you?”

“Relax; you’re not my type.”

Scarlet wasn’t sure if he ought to be relieved or offended.  He recalled the comforting feel of Blue’s hand on his shoulder the first time he’d experienced the nausea caused by a Mysteron presence, and the much-appreciated concern his field partner invariably showed, whenever he faced injury or death in the course of a mission. 

He smiled anyway.   “Good; you’re not mine.”

Blue gave a brusque nod, which might have meant anything, and continued, “I think you need to know something about my family, and especially Cori, and then maybe you’ll understand.  Ever since I can remember, Mom always told us that we must do all we can to make sure Cori doesn’t get upset, because, out of all of us, she’s the most highly-strung.  She’s always been a looker, so it was no surprise when she was snapped up by a modelling agency while she was still at school.  It wasn’t the right thing for her, but no-one realised for some time.  She felt pressurised to remain ‘waif-like’, and… well, she didn’t eat properly.  It became a serious issue and my parents were frantic to get help for her, so there were a lot of visits to see a lot of doctors… Since then we’ve all walked on eggshells around her.”

This information went some way to explaining to Scarlet why Corinna’s family were so over-protective.   It had been something of a mystery to him, as he had not recognised any fragility in her character.  Maybe it wasn’t always apparent…

“Must’ve been terrible,” he muttered.

 But Blue didn’t expect any sympathy for Cori, or himself, and he continued: “She wanted to believe FloLyn was the big love of her life, and even though Mom disliked him with a passion, she would never do anything to prevent Cori getting what she wanted, especially while she seemed to be in such good health and spirits.  Then Cori learnt about FloLyn and me, and they split up.  Immediately, she started taking every job she was offered, she lost weight and went back to not eating properly.   So, on top of everything else I’d done wrong, my mother blamed me for the resurgence of Cori’s eating disorder.”

“Because you spoilt her big romance?”

Blue shrugged.  “Like I said, I was oblivious to the damage I’d done. Flo can be a real charmer when he wants something from you, and I was more than a little bedazzled.”

“He must be a hard man to say no to,” Scarlet muttered, but he wasn’t sure Blue even heard him, lost as he was in his memories.

“He taught me a lot about myself; although I can’t blame him exclusively for what happened, because I always was, and still am, a heedless sybarite.  Nevertheless, I don’t want to see Cori hurt again, Paul.”

“Why would I want to hurt her?  I think I’m in love with her.”

Blue studied his companion’s face intently, weighing the truth in his declaration.  After what seemed to Scarlet like a long moment of scrutiny, a slight smile lifted the corners of the older man’s wide mouth, and he opened his mouth to respond…

“That’s really so touching.”

Both men were startled by the new voice and looked round in astonishment.  Rafe Elderslie was standing some metres away from them.  

He was holding a gun to Corinna’s head. 

“Help me!” she begged.

“Cori!  Don’t worry, honey; just do as he says.  It’ll be all right, I promise,” Blue cried, desperate to reassure her. 

Scarlet felt a shudder of nausea and wiped sweat from his eyes.  “He’s a Mysteron,” he told Blue quietly.

Elderslie heard him.  “How clever of you to realise, at last, Earthman.”

Recalling the nausea that he’d experienced backstage at the initial recording session, Scarlet shook his head in disbelief.  “It was you, all along,” he muttered.

“Now you will obey my instructions to the letter, or this Earthwoman will die.”

“Let her go, Elderslie,” Blue said.  “Take me instead.  A Spectrum captain will make a much better hostage.”

“Not this time.  Your colleagues won’t think twice about risking your life, but they’ll try and preserve this civilian.  You will now do as I say.”

“We’ve got back-up on the way, Elderslie; there’s no way out for you,” Blue threatened.

“That’s what you think, Earthman.  Now, you will lift Captain Black and carry him into the transmission booth.”

“Move him yourself,” Blue snapped.

“I’m warning you!  She will die if you don’t obey!”

“Adam!  Please … do as he says.  Paul, help me!” Corinna begged, reaching out her free hand to each man in turn.

Scarlet darted forward and grabbed her, yanking her from Elderslie’s grasp and spinning her away from danger as he cannoned into the Mysteron.  The gun fired and Corinna screamed, as her brother rugby-tackled her to the ground and covered her with his own body.

The bullet had gone into Scarlet’s shoulder, hampering the movement of his arm as he wrestled with Elderslie.  The Mysteron agent was strong and merciless; as he pushed his assailant away with one hand around his throat he struggled with Scarlet’s uninjured arm to bring the gun to bear. 

Scarlet was fighting for breath.  Weakened by his recent experiences and the fact that his retrometabolism had not yet returned him to full strength, he grappled hard to keep the gun pointing away from himself, and from the Svensons, still splayed out on the floor.  Elderslie’s fingers were digging into his throat and he could feel his consciousness starting to fade.  Desperately, he jerked his head back and then head-butted Elderslie’s nose, satisfied by the crunch he heard as the cartilage snapped.  There was a gush of warm blood and for a moment the Mysteron’s attack faltered.

Gasping for breath, Scarlet shouted, “Get Cori out of here, Blue.  Move it – now!”

Blue scrambled to his feet and reached to pull his sister upright, with the intention of hustling her to safety, but Cori had other ideas.  She hit out at her brother, pummelling her fists into his shoulder. 

“Let me go – we must help Paul!  Let go of me!”

“Go with him,” Scarlet had time to yell, before Elderslie came at him again and he had to turn his attention back to that fight.

“Come on, Cori; now isn’t the time.  Paul’s fine – come on!” 

Blue tried to grab her flailing fists and copped a glancing blow to his right eye.  Slightly dazed, he shook his head to clear his vision, shouting, “Come on, you stupid bitch!”

Cori broke away from his grasp.  She threw herself into the fight between Elderslie and Scarlet, punching indiscriminately and posing much more of a hazard than a help.  Cursing, Blue leapt forward and tried to pull her away, making the brawl even more chaotic. 

Scarlet, preoccupied with trying to protect Cori, was desperate for Blue to get her out of the way.  To his relief, he saw Blue grab his sister and violently thrust her away, only to receive a powerful blow from Elderslie that doubled him over, and sent him staggering to the floor. 

With the Svensons out of the way, Scarlet moved in for the kill.  Anger overcame the deficiencies of his retrometabolic recovery and lent him additional strength and stamina. Elderslie was beginning to give ground when, from the corner of his eye, Scarlet saw Cori wielding the gun Elderslie had dropped, and aiming it at the two men.

“Stop, or I’ll fire!” she yelled. 

Blue, still struggling to his feet, was trying to talk her into moving away, but she wasn’t listening.  As Cori fired the gun at Elderslie, the Mysteron sidestepped, pulling Scarlet with him, and the bullet buried itself in Scarlet’s face, shattering his cheekbone and eye socket with the impact. 

Cori screamed and dropped the gun, her horror at having shot Scarlet blinding her to the sudden and inexplicable disappearance of Rafe Elderslie.   She rushed forward, falling on her knees beside Scarlet, keening in anguish.

Blue stumbled over to her, pulling her away from Scarlet’s body.  Gathering her in his arms, he turned her face away from the shattered corpse.

“Look at me,” he ordered.  “Don’t look at him, look at me, Cori.”

“I’ve killed him,” she wailed. 

“I doubt it,” Blue gasped, still winded from the punch he’d received.  He could see no point in trying to prevent Cori learning of Scarlet’s unique ability to cheat death now.

“I’ve blown half his face off!” she screamed, pushing her brother away and turning towards Scarlet, her hands clasped to her mouth to stifle her sobs.

He grabbed her and put his hands on either side of her head, forcing her to look at him and not at Scarlet. 

“Listen!  Listen to me, Cori! Scarlet… damn it … Paul is different from other men.  He… he’s harder to kill.   Believe me, I’ve seen him get up from worse than this.  But – listen to me, Cori! – it will take time.” 

As she struggled to turn her head towards her lover, Blue urged her again: “Don’t look at him!  Look at me, Cori.  You must be brave and you must be sensible.  I need you to help me – to help Paul.  Go find Major Fulvous and tell him what’s happened, and warn him that Elderslie is dangerous.  Can you do that?”

Despite shaking with shock and fear, and doubting every word he said, she was prepared to do as he ordered, so that she could escape from the horror of the scene.  She nodded.  “I’ll go.  You’ll stay with him?”

“Yeah.  Send Fulvous here – better still, come with him.  Don’t say anything to anyone else about what’s happened.  Not Martha, not the police – just Fulvous.  He’ll know what to do.”

Cori got to her feet and Blue stood between her and Scarlet.

“Go, quickly!” he urged. 

Trembling, she turned and ran without a backward glance.

Blue watched her turn out of the corridor before he looked down at his friend.  “Just how bad can today get?” he asked rhetorically.  “This is going to take some explaining, Paul.”

***

Major Fulvous came at a run, with a Mysteron gun slung over his shoulder. 

Blue gave a nod of relief to see him. “Too late for that, I’m afraid,” he said, “Black and Elderslie have vanished.”

“Vanished?  How?”

Blue rolled his eyes.  “The Mysterons have powers beyond our understanding, Major.”  He took pity on the man’s bewilderment.  “Don’t worry, it’s happened before.  Problem is: either, or both, of them may turn up again, up to no good.”

“But you said Black was dead.”

“Uh-huh.  It’s like this, Major: Spectrum’s never known for sure if the Mysterons killed and retrometabolised Black on Mars.  He may have been under their control through other means.  If he was dead when he got back to Earth, they can retrometabolise him again and, if he wasn’t, they can turn him into a full-blown Mysteron agent now he’s been killed. That’s why we needed the electron rifle; it’s the only thing we know of that kills a Mysteron agent beyond recovery.” 

Fulvous looked gutted.   “I’m sorry, sir.” 

Blue shrugged: there was no good pining over split milk and Fulvous hadn’t known how important the request had been.  He consoled the older officer:   “No-one can be in two places at the same time, Major; we can all only do the best we can.”

“What about Captain Scarlet, sir?” Fulvous looked past Blue and grimaced at the sight of Scarlet’s corpse.

“We need to get him to somewhere safe, where he can recover in peace.”

“Recover?  From that?”

Blue nodded.  “Long story, the dénouement of which is: he’ll recover. Trust me.”

“If I thought for one moment you were pulling my leg, Captain, you’d know about it.”

“Where is my – Ms Svenson?” Blue asked, only just realising Cori had not come back.

“When she told me Elderslie was dangerous, I sent her to her sister outside the building,” Fulvous replied.  “It wasn’t safe for her to come back here, so I told her to go.”

“Safer than letting her go out there,” Blue muttered.  “She was used by Elderslie as a human shield – a bargaining tool, if you prefer.  It was she who shot Captain Scarlet.  I hate to say it, but she must be tested with a Mysteron detector.”

“You mean she may have been working against us?”

“Mysteron agents look and sound perfectly normal until they start carrying out their orders.  Ms Svenson may well be a Mysteron agent – at least, I can’t rule out the possibility.”

Major Fulvous sighed despondently.  “I think I’m gonna recommend to Colonel White that he organises a top level conference, just as soon as possible,  for all station commanders and above, to bring us up to date on what we know about the Mysterons.  Spectrum can’t risk officers making the same mistakes I’ve made through ignorance of the dangers we face.”

“I’ll support you on that, right enough,” said Blue.  He looked down at Scarlet’s body.  “Call up a body bag, Major, while I get Cloudbase to send down a medical helijet – we might need to evacuate Scarlet.”

“I don’t believe he’s going to recover,” the major said, when he’d completed his call.

Blue was kneeling beside the corpse, carefully avoiding the pool of congealing blood, with his fingers pressed gently against Scarlet’s neck, waiting – and hoping – for the almost infinitesimal flicker of a pulse that would indicate the beginning of the retrometabolism process.  He looked up.

“I do; I have to believe it.  Spectrum would be too weak to defend the Earth for long without Scarlet.”  He sighed and shifted his position.  “Get your men to search the building from sewers to roof tiles.  I doubt they’ll find Elderslie or Black, but we must go through the motions nevertheless.”

“S.I.G.”

“Oh, and Major: get a couple of your men to find Ms Svenson and take her into protective custody: right after they’ve tested her with a Mysteron detector…”

***

Doctor Fawn listened to Captain Blue’s explanation of how Captain Scarlet acquired his fatal wound, gave his fellow officer a look of profound disappointment, and stomped into the isolation ward where Scarlet spent his recovery periods.  One of the nurses asked Blue if he needed any medical attention and, on being told that he was fine, placed a sympathetic hand on the young man’s arm for a moment before bustling off to continue with her work. 

Blue poured himself a cup of coffee and gulped it down before squaring his shoulders and heading off for the Control Room and what he expected to be a tough debriefing with the colonel.

In Sick Bay, Fawn watched and waited.  The robotic nurses attached to Scarlet’s corpse bleeped mournfully and flickered, but the displays did not deviate from the rows of flatlines.  At a loss to know how to encourage the process of retrometabolism to begin, Fawn had nevertheless bandaged Scarlet’s head wounds and set his broken bones, as he would have done for a living patient.  He doubted it made any difference to Captain Scarlet in his present state, but it did allow him to feel less inadequate and, therefore, obliquely more confident his patient would recover. 

He went on with his routine tasks, wandering into the recovery room at regular intervals and taking Scarlet’s vital signs for the sake of – well, appearances, really, he admitted to himself.   It was on his eighth visit that he saw, with considerable relief, that the robot nurses were registering life signs: a weak but persistent pulse and a rise in temperature.  Fawn opened the valve to the saline drip he’d attached to Scarlet’s arm earlier and noted the time on his medical record.

Five hours since he was shot… “Come on, Captain, let’s be having you up and out of here,” he said aloud.  “I have work to do and so do you.”

When he left the recovery room, he immediately informed Colonel White that his officer was on the mend. 

Chapter Seven

Reports of the successful destruction of the rogue missiles by the security forces were coming in more slowly now.  Although there had been numerous casualties, and some of the weapons had reached their targets, the battle seemed to be going in Spectrum’s favour. 

The Angels had raced to Futura and due to individual acts of considerable bravery the world capital had been saved from destruction.  

Symphony Angel had been shot down by a ground-to-air missile over the Caribbean Sea and it was with some relief that the colonel heard from the Navy vessel that rescued her that, although she was badly wounded, their medical officer did not consider it to be fatal. 

Rhapsody’s plane had crashed close to Ellis Island in New York, and the Angel’s escape parachute caught on the crown of the Statue of Liberty.   Dangling helplessly from the statue, Rhapsody had had a ringside view of the dog-fights over the city, as the WAAF and the remaining Angel Jets chased down and destroyed the automatic missiles targeted on the city.

As the battle petered out, a  total of eight SPJs had been destroyed trying to defend European targets, two helijets had crashed into the Sydney Harbour Bridge while trying to prevent missile strikes, and numerous SPVs and MSVs had sustained damage.   The WAAF was reporting considerable losses at their bases, and the Navy and the WASPs had not escaped unharmed. The ferocious battle had been fought all across the globe and without quarter from either side.  Yet, inexorably the global supply of automatic missiles became exhausted and fewer of them than anticipated had actually reached their intended targets. 

On a video link from Cloudbase, Colonel White briefed the World President and the SCEF:

“The damage is substantial and the global casualties will run into many thousands, gentlemen, but I hope you’ll agree with me, that it could have been far worse.”

“Yes, Colonel,” President Younger replied.  “I intend to call an emergency meeting of the World Senate to authorise funds to begin the repairs, and the rearmament of the security forces.  However, for now, I don’t want too much information regarding the extent of the damage to reach the public domain; we can’t risk the Bereznians, or any of the other rebel states, striking at Member States due the belief that the World Government can’t defend them.”

The SCEF grimaced. “Right now, Mr President, I’m not sure we could.”

“You’re not sure?”  Younger exclaimed.  “When will you be sure?”

“I will have a thorough report for you in 24 hours.”

“Spectrum’s willing to assist in collating damage reports and losses, Supreme Commander.”

“Thank you, Colonel; I’ll be grateful for whatever data your men can supply.”

“I can tell you now that Spectrum has lost a significant proportion of our global fleet, including three Angel Jets and at least eight SPJs; but our ground forces are still operating at roughly 80% capacity.”

“Keep them on red alert, Colonel,” Younger said.  “I don’t want a slide into lawlessness and looting to be a direct result of this attack.”

“S.I.G., sir.” Colonel White had had no intention of doing anything else. 

“Any further information about what caused this catastrophe?” Younger continued.  “I want everything possible done to prevent anything like this happening again.”

“All current evidence points to the Elderslie radio broadcast,” White explained.  “I have my best men on the case.”

“I want all copies of that broadcast wiped,” Younger announced.

“I doubt that’s possible, sir.  There will doubtless be millions of copies on personal music stations and recording devices.”

“I thought they had a downloading lock on it?” Younger remarked, with some surprise.

“Yes, sir, they did; but for every downloading lock someone will have found a key.  The bootleggers will already be producing copies.”

“Then get the World Police onto it!” Younger snapped.  “I want the whole business cleared up as soon as possible.”

 Colonel White acknowledged the order and continued, “Spectrum has the original master tapes and our recording of the broadcast; my officers and technicians will be working on those until we have both an explanation for it and a defence against it.”

“Hmmph; in the meantime I want every public broadcasting service closed down,” Younger ordered, unconvinced by the colonel’s assurances.

“With respect, Mr President, that’s not a good idea, sir,” the SCEF interjected.  “We need to keep the populace calm, and closing down every radio station will not help us do that.  There are already Class A security notices on the situation; the talk stations won’t dare discuss it and speculation in the news media, even from TV21, will be kept to a minimum.  For now, that’s the best we can do.”

“Then I hope Spectrum resolve the matter quickly… I don’t want the world in peril for a moment longer than is absolutely necessary!”

***

After his debriefing, Blue wandered down to the Officers’ Lounge to see if anyone was about.  He found Captain Ochre asleep in his chair, a cup of coffee drooping from his hand and in danger of spilling its contents.  Moving silently, Blue poured two more cups, put them on the table and then gently prised the cup from Ochre’s fingers before there was an accident.  His colleague never even stirred.

He sat opposite Ochre, nursing his coffee and studying his companion.  He was in danger of dozing off himself, when Ochre woke suddenly, springing up in his chair, and gasping in surprise to find himself no longer alone.

“Have I been asleep long?” he asked.  Blushing in confusion, he ran his hand through his thick, chestnut-brown hair and across his stubble-covered chin.

“You were asleep when I got here, about forty minutes ago.  I don’t know when you got here.”

Ochre glanced at his watch and groaned.  “I’m gonna be late for my next shift…”

“When did you get back on base?”

“Three hours ago.  I’m due in Burkina Faso in another two hours.  I know they say there’s no peace for the wicked, but this is ridiculous; we’re seriously understaffed here…”

“Tell me about it.”

“How’s Scarlet?  I heard he got… wounded… again.”

Blue nodded.  “Yeah, one side of his face was blown off.”

Ochre grimaced in disgust. “Whoah! Too much information!”

“Hey; I had to pick all the bits of him up and bring them back.  Don’t you talk to me about too much information.”

Ochre stood, gave his colleague an apologetic smile, and stretched.  He noticed the full cup beside his chair and realised Blue must’ve prepared it for him.  He nodded towards the cup, reaching to pick it up.  It was stone cold. 

Grimacing, he put it back down.

“Sorry, Blondie.  I guess you do get the short straw all too often. Once was more than enough for me. Phew! I better go shower and get a change of uniform.  I smell like Chicago central’s holding cells on a rough Saturday night…” 

He patted the younger man’s shoulder as he walked towards the exit.  “Keep smiling! You’re doing a fantastic job, good buddy.”

Blue watched him go, an expression on his face that he would have died rather than reveal in the company of his colleagues. 

Sometimes, he reflected, life is unexpectedly cruel.

 

***

It was almost an hour later that Rhapsody Angel, back on Cloudbase to await the delivery of a new Angel Jet, wandered down to the Officers’ Lounge.  Finding Captain Blue alone, she sat down and began talking about the events in Boston and New York, and the Mysterons’ likely next move, although Blue seemed somewhat distracted.

“So was Captain Black really dead?” she pressed him.

“As far as we knew he was.  Scarlet killed him in a fight; or rather, we assumed he had.”

“Surely you could tell if he was dead?”

“How?  We don’t know if the ‘man’ who came back to Earth on Zero X was already Mysteronised, or if the Mysterons were controlling him by other means.  Let’s face it, they’re able to control planes and vehicles and all kinds of machinery without any problem, so it’s unlikely they’d find a human being much of a challenge.”

She considered that for a moment and then said, “That’s all inanimate stuff, Adam.  When you think about it, they weren’t able to control Scarlet after the Car-Vu, even though they’d killed the original man.  I think human beings present them with a much greater challenge than any machine.  We’re complicated and complex entities, after all – and no two are exactly the same.”

He nodded.  “You might be right, Di.”  He sighed deeply and chewed on his left-hand thumb nail.  “Nevertheless, all I can say is that Scarlet believed Black was dead and I thought he was.  What we don’t know is whether the Mysterons removed the corpse in order to reanimate it or whether Black was already imbued with the ability to retrometabolise.  Either way, they removed him to prevent us subjecting his body to the electron ray and disrupting that option of regeneration.”

“Whatever the reason, we’re still left with Elderslie and Black, known Mysteron agents, at large and dangerous?”

“Yeah.”

“I wish I could be down there looking for them.” She fidgeted and added, “The replacement Angel Jets seem to be taking an age.”

“I’m sure they’re being as quick as they can; the Angels have priority for replacements, after all.  Besides, Elderslie and Black could be anywhere.  Because it seems that the Mysterons can transport their agents in and out of places, we have the entire globe to search.”

She looked at him carefully; it wasn’t like him to sound so pessimistic.  However much the odds were stacked against them, Captain Blue always exuded an air of positivity and appeared ready-for-action. 

Thinking she knew the reason for his low mood, she said gently, “Scarlet will be fighting fit soon.  He’s always recovered before – he won’t let us down.”

His scathing glance made her blush.  

“Not even Scarlet can home in on two Mysterons who may be anywhere on the planet.” 

“Well, no; I just meant that he might… you know? …he seems to have… a … an affinity for what they might be going to do next.”

Blue stood up and looked down at her with an exasperated expression on his attractive face.  “Scarlet’s not some sort of superman, Dianne; he’s as human as you or me.  He may have hunches, but he’s not the only one and just the same as everyone else, they don’t always pay off.”

He turned and walked out of the Lounge leaving Rhapsody gazing after him in surprise. 

“What the devil got into him?” she muttered into the empty room, feeling hurt and more than a little bewildered by his extreme reaction.   “Oh! Men: even if they’re not actually from Mars, they bloody well act like they are!”

***

Captain Scarlet woke with a thumping headache and a raging thirst.  The latter was a commonplace following a bout of retrometabolism but that was always accompanied by a cessation of whatever pain he’d experienced.  The nurse who was with him prevented him from putting a hand to his aching head, and her voice, which was usually so gentle, grated in his ears as she said:

“Lie still, Captain.  I’ll get you a drink and alert Doctor Fawn.”

Obediently, Scarlet’s hand went back to lie on the bed and he tried to focus the one eye that was not covered by bandages on the figure beside him to answer her.  She recognised his struggle and surprise at his inability to communicate.

“Rest, Captain,” she ordered and hurried away.

Fawn arrived as the nurse was feeding ice chips to Scarlet.  He looked at the charts and the robot doctor’s reports and then spoke to his patient.

“You died, Captain Scarlet; so I am glad to see you back with us.  However, you also suffered severe physical damage to your head.  That appears to be mending, only slower than the rest of your injuries.  So, you will need to rest and not try to speak or move much.  Understand?”

Scarlet raised a hand in acknowledgement.  Fawn continued:

“We’re still learning about retrometabolism, so the fact that some wounds take longer to repair is nothing to worry about.  The trauma was extensive, but don’t worry; I’m confident your matinee idol looks will return.”

If Fawn intended that as a pleasantry, it failed to amuse his patient.  Scarlet tried to speak, but aware that the sounds he was making were unintelligible, his frustration grew.

Fawn began his physical examination to a backdrop of conversation that had the advantage of bringing Scarlet up to date. 

“Black escaped again.  Blue believes he was dead, but we know that’s no problem for the Mysterons.  Elderslie is still missing, but there’s a global alert out for him, so it’s only a matter of time until he’s found.    Unless the Mysterons have ‘removed’ him, of course…  Either way, let’s hope he doesn’t have a chance to cause more damage.”

He poked Scarlet’s shoulder asking: “Does that hurt?” just as his patient jerked in pain.  He answered his own question: “Yes; I see that it does.  That’s good; it indicates that the nerve damage is repairing itself.”

Scarlet attempted to roll his eyes, but wasn’t sure Fawn even noticed.

“Blue says Boston is getting back to normal.  He’s okay, by the way, and back on base.  He brought you here.  You were not a pretty sight.”  Fawn’s hands hovered around the bandages that swathed Scarlet’s head.  “We’ll take these off in another hour or so.  Try and get some sleep until then.”

Scarlet made one last attempt to communicate.  “’ina?’

Fawn paused, frowned and then smiled as the sound un-jumbled itself in his mind. 

“It seems that Ms Svenson is safe with her family.  No permanent physical harm done there.  Now – go to sleep, Scarlet, if you want to recover quickly.”

Left alone again, Scarlet sighed and stared up at the blank ceiling, acknowledging with a snort that his vision was improving even as he lay there.   It was all right for Fawn to say that there’d been no permanent harm done to Corinna, but she had witnessed his death, had been the cause of it, in fact, and she would, in the not too distant future if he had anything to do with it, see him alive and well again.  He knew that the colonel was likely to insist that he never saw her again; the Old Man would quote chapter and verse of The Regulations and stomp about insisting that it was a security breach.

 But this time, Scarlet thought, he can pontificate all he wants, it will make no odds.  I want to see her again, he admitted to himself. I just hope she wants to see me enough to… ignore what I am and … love me for who I am.

A smile twitched at the corners of his shapely lips as it occurred to him that he’d just acknowledged what he’d suspected for some time: he was in love with Corinna Svenson.   

On that pleasing thought he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

***

The sound of the door closing woke Scarlet.  He focused his by now almost 20/20 vision on the man by the bed and gave what he hoped was a wry grimace.

“’llo B’ue.” The bandages were restricting his ability to speak.

“Hiya, Scarlet.  Glad to see you’re on the mend.”

“So Faw’ ‘ells me.” 

It wasn’t hard to see that Blue was on edge.  His long fingers were restlessly fiddling with the zip of his uniform tunic and he wouldn’t meet Scarlet’s direct gaze.

“Wha’z’up?”

Blue pursed his lips and gave a sharp shake of his head.  “Nuthin’ much. Fawn’s pretty much kept you under wraps until now, so I thought I’d just drop by to see how you were.”

“A’ ‘ou do...’

“Yeah; as I do.  I saw Fawn on my way in.  He’ll be round in a few minutes to remove the bandages, so maybe you’ll be able to talk properly then.”

“’ou wanna ‘alk? Wha’ ‘bou’?”

“This and that.”

Scarlet rolled his eyes.  “’ar’ly wor’ my effor’”

Blue chuckled and momentarily the sadness evaporated from his face.  “I can’t talk seriously to someone who sounds like a ventriloquist’s dummy.”

“Gottle of gear…”

Blue laughed and gave a quick grin, but neither struck Scarlet as being from the heart.  While his friend pulled up a chair and sat down beside the bed, Scarlet did some deducing of his own…  he reckoned that by now he was an expert at reading Blue’s often all-too-guarded expressions, and he could see that this one was one from the ‘seriously-anxious-about-something’ category.  Whatever ‘this and that’ was, it was bugging Captain Blue because he couldn’t see a solution to it.

“’ell U’ckle ‘aulie all ‘bou’ it,’” Scarlet invited. 

Blue showed no surprise at the invitation.  He glanced at Scarlet and asked, “Has Fawn updated you on what’s happened in Boston?”

Scarlet shrugged and waggled his hand indicating ‘so-so’. 

Blue started to give him his interpretation of what had happened since he was shot; explaining that Fulvous’ men had found no sign of Black or Elderslie, that nobody in the orchestra, technical staff or audience had tested positive with the Mysteron detectors; until something brought his recitation to a halting stop.  

“’ady ‘ray?”

It took Blue a moment to translate the sounds into something meaningful, but then he replied: “She was okay.  I made sure the colonel knew she’d been cleared and was safely back at the British Consulate.”

So, it wasn’t a member of the public that was the problem. With a sudden burst of understanding, Scarlet asked quietly: “’Rina?”

To his dismay, Blue’s expression grew infinitely sadder and he shook his head. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted in hardly more than a whisper. Then it all came pouring out in a rush: “Once she got out and told him about Elderslie, Fulvous told her to stay with Martha, and that’s where she went - or so he thought.  By the time I got out, Martha said she’d got in a cab and gone home.  Only, it later transpired that she hadn’t gone home and now nobody’s sure where she is.”

“Wha’?”

“Fulvous has his men and the police out looking for her.  They’ll find her, I have no doubt; but what sort of state she’ll be in when they do, is anybody’s guess. She was pretty devastated by what she witnessed, and I don’t think she believed me when I said you’d be okay.”

“Wha’?”

“Oh, I know I shouldn’t have said anything, but what else could I do?”  Blue reasoned.  “There you were, with bits of your brain splattered along the corridor and one eye gone…”

“Wha’?” Scarlet was struggling to sit up. “’ou ‘oron’!”

Blue shook his head in despair.  “She saw you!  She held you after you were hit.  I didn’t know what to say! I tried to get her away, tried to reassure her…”

“So she ran awa’.  Well don’.”

Blue finally met Scarlet’s anguished face and confessed his deepest fear:

“You see, I think it’s possible that Elderslie, and maybe even Black, will be looking for her too.  It seems to me the Mysterons were pretty anxious to get hold of you, and if I can work out that where Cori is, you’ll be… eventually, so can they.  If she hasn’t already been Mysteronised, they could…”  His voice broke and he swallowed.  “I mean, so, that when she sees you again… You wouldn’t know… and she’d… they’d tell her to… ”

Scarlet was furious and he shook his head vehemently.

“Tha’ nev’r gonna ‘app’n!  No’ whi’e I ‘ave ‘reath…”

“But it’ll be okay if we find her first,” Blue said, with a tinge of pleading in his voice.

 “Wha’ if ‘lack ‘inds ‘er ‘irst?  I’m going to ‘ost’n.”

Scarlet began to tear the bandages from his face and Blue had no choice but to press the emergency alarm bell

“You’re not ready to go anywhere,” he protested, as out in the main ward, the alarm whooped urgently.

“Bullshit,” Scarlet snapped, as he threw the last of the despised bandages to the floor.  “I’m fine.”  He paused to glance at his colleague.  The look of shocked disgust and horror on Blue’s face told him all he needed to know.  “Only I guess I’d better avoid mirrors for a while,” he added ruefully.

“Yeh.”  Blue swallowed hard. “Just for a while.”

***

Both Doctor Fawn and Colonel White were adamant:  Captain Scarlet was going nowhere until he was fully recovered.

Scarlet heard them out without comment.

“Is that your final order, Colonel?”

“It is.”

“That’s a shame, because I am going, with or without your permission. Sir.  Major Fulvous, and a good many of his men, can confirm that Captain Scarlet was well and truly dead when he left Boston, and, as any fool knows, dead men can’t disobey orders. So, I don’t really see how you can court-martial me. Nevertheless, if that argument isn’t good enough for you: I’ll resign, with immediate effect.”

“Captain Scarlet, I forbid you to resign!”

For one brief moment, Scarlet smiled.  “Then I take it you’re giving me permission to go, sir.  I’ll be back when I’ve done what I need to do.” 

He glanced at the doctor and then at Blue, who was standing watching in silence.  “I’d ask you to come, Captain Blue, but I don’t want to get you into the colonel’s bad books.”

Blue blinked slowly, raised his fair eyebrows and gave a devil-may-care shrug.  “I’m not letting you go alone, Scarlet.  This is my sister you’re talking about.”

Scarlet studied him carefully for a moment and then glanced at White, who was glowering at the medical report sheet on his desk, to avoid looking at either of his officers. 

“Come babysit me then...” he muttered.  “You can keep Cloudbase informed of what we get up to – what I get up to, I mean, just as you always do.”

Blue flushed but said nothing.

“Scarlet, we don’t know how robust your retrometabolism is,” Fawn reminded him.  “You’re still not fully recovered...”

“Let me worry about that, Doc.  Come on, Adam; I’ve wasted enough time already.”

***

Captain Blue brought the SPJ to rest on the tarmac of the security service compound at Atlantic airport and switched off the engines. Scarlet had ordered an SSC from the terrestrial base and was already back in the cabin waiting to disembark, so he had a chance to inform Cloudbase they had arrived and were about to drive into the city. 

Lieutenant Green acknowledged the report and brought him up to date on the situation.  Blue sighed: there was no news of his sister and no reported sightings of Elderslie or Black, so the problem of where to start looking remained a monumental one. 

Blue drove towards the city, swerving across the lanes of traffic as they headed towards the concert venue, which seemed as good a place as any to make a start.

“Does Cori have a bolt hole in Boston?” Scarlet asked suddenly. “Somewhere she’d go when – no offence – her family’s interference got too much for her?”

“None taken.  If she does, it isn’t somewhere she’s shared with me.  I mean, I’m not her favourite sibling by a long stretch of the imagination.”

“Who’d know then?”

Scarlet thought he knew, and Blue’s answer confirmed his guess.

“Martha.”

Blue rummaged in his tunic pocket and suddenly tossed his personal phone to Scarlet, as he yelled:   “Get outta the way, you jackass!” Thumping the horn of the SSC, as a sedan with an apparent death-wish cut them up, he continued as if it hadn’t happened:  “Call her: she’s on speed-dial.”

Martha Dufresne answered the call immediately.  “Adam? Where are you?” she demanded with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“Not Adam, I’m afraid; it’s Paul,” Scarlet replied.  “He’s with me and we’re in Boston, heading towards the concert hall.”

“Paul? They told me you were... injured; Cori thought you were dead!”

“No; I was just unconscious.  It looked worse than it was and I’m fine now – believe me.  No harm done.”

 Martha seemed to accept what he said and asked, “Have you, or, by some miracle, Adam, heard from Cori?”

“No; and I take it you haven’t either.” 

“No,” she murmured.

Scarlet wasn’t sure he believed her, so he continued, “Martha, I want to find her; she could be in real danger from Elderslie and his confederates. I need your help.  Please, will you tell me if you know of any place she’d go when she needed to be alone?  Somewhere she’d feel safe.”

There was no response. Scarlet asked again, adding, “You won’t be betraying any confidences and she’d never know how we found her.  Well, not from me, anyway.  I wouldn’t ask, Martha, but I’m seriously worried about her.”

“Let me speak to Adam.”

“He’s driving.”

“Then put me on speakerphone!  Look, you say you are Paul Metcalfe, but Cori told me he was dead.  I don’t know who you are and I’m not telling you anything until I’ve spoken to my brother.”

Scarlet did as she asked and held the phone close to Blue as he continued driving.

“Hi Marti,” Blue said. “It really is me and Paul.  We’re here to find Cori and make sure nothing happens to her.  I’m sure that if she does have a bolt-hole in Boston, you’ll be the only person she’ll have told about it.  We can’t afford to waste time scouring the streets for her; she’s a vital witness to what happened in the concert hall, and we won’t be the only people looking for her; just the only ones looking for her who have her interests at heart.”

“She’ll be at ‘Lake Evendim’.  She bought a cabin there.”

“Evendim?  Thanks, Marti.  We’re on our way.  I’ll let you know when we’ve found her.”

“You’d better.”   The line went dead.

Blue glanced around at the traffic, turned on the SSC’s siren and made a 180-degree turn, ignoring the outraged protests of the other drivers.   He belted back the way they’d come and took the next exit to the freeway.

“Where’s this lake?” Scarlet asked, scouring the onboard maps in vain. “It isn’t showing on the computer.”

“That doesn’t surprise me; we don’t carry uploads of Middle Earth.  When we were kids we used to spend a lot of time at Lake Onota; Mom likes to go to Tanglewood and mingle with the great and the good.  One of our favourite games was to pretend we were in Middle Earth and we’d go hiking, like we were journeying to Mordor.”

“My, what a rich cultural life you’ve led.”

“Piss off, Scarlet.”

“I’m guessing this is Martha’s way of ensuring you really are you and I really am me, eh?  Using some kind of family code word – pretty neat.”

“Martha’s no fool.”

“I agree; she strikes me as a very astute woman.  Shame it isn’t a general family trait.”

Blue glowered, but bit back his retort as he jumped a red light, siren wailing.

Scarlet grinned and sat back in the seat while they navigated through another intersection of busy roadways.  “Make all haste to Lake Evendim, Legolas, and don’t spare the horses, old chap!”

***

They made good time along the Massachusetts Turnpike, passing direction signs for places with names that reminded Scarlet of home and reinforced that they really were in New England: Oxford, Charlton, Ludlow, Montgomery…

Blue drove like a man who knew the route well, so Scarlet sat in silence, lulled by the swish of the windscreen wipers, watching the snow-covered roads roll by in the increasing darkness, and worrying what they might discover when they finally arrived.   Eventually the car pulled off the road into a parking lot just outside a small shopping mall, dripping with Christmas lights.  Scarlet glanced at his companion enquiringly. 

“We need an address,” Blue explained.

“Are you going to ask Martha?” Scarlet said, as Blue fired up his personal phone.

“Maybe.”  After a moment or two, Blue looked up with a smug smile.  “Found her.”

“How?”

“One thing is always certain, death and taxes.”

“That’s two things,” Scarlet remarked and was ignored.

“She’s registered to vote,” Blue continued.

“Neat.  We go on then?”

Blue started the engine and pulled back into the traffic, with a brusque nod of his head.

“He’s as anxious as me,” Scarlet realised, with a surge of empathy.   “He just isn’t prepared to admit it.  I guess I can understand why…” 

The recollection that there was a Mysteron gun in the boot of the Spectrum Saloon was a sobering thought, as was the realisation that – if necessary – they would have no choice but to use it against Corinna. 

***

Blue drove through dark suburban streets, where the brightly-lit houses were spacious and set on plots of land laid to long front lawns with neat driveways and flagpoles.  Finally, they drove along a leafy road that followed the curve of the lake.  The houses lined one side of the road were just a little bigger and more secluded than the ones they’d already past. 

At the end of the road was an elegant modern house, the flag pole adorned with an American Stars and Stripes, fluttering in the stiff, snow-laden breeze.  Set at a slight angle to the previous building, it differed from its neighbour in that it was not ablaze with festive lights.  It looked out over the lake as the shore line curved away into a lightly wooded wilderness area.

“That’s it,” Blue said.  “Cori’s bolthole.”

“Nice; but then, if you’re going to hide away you might as well do it in style.”

“Hmm,” Blue agreed.  “Dad looks after her money for her; she must be doing well.”

“Better than you?” Scarlet teased.

“Much,” Blue replied with feeling, as he pulled the car up across the road and some way from the house. There was no sign of a car on the drive and the house lights were not on.  “It doesn’t look like anyone’s at home,” he said, training the binoculars from the SSC’s kit box on the windows. 

“Maybe she just doesn’t want to be seen?” Scarlet suggested. “Perhaps she saw the car coming?”

“Or perhaps somebody did, and they don’t want her to be seen,” Blue replied, bringing the binoculars down and glancing at Scarlet.

“I was trying to avoid reaching that conclusion,” Scarlet muttered, “but it is a distinct possibility.  We’d better go in and check.”

Blue nodded. “I’ll try the front door and you skirt round the back.  You should be able to get in without too much trouble…”

“No sweat; I was top of my class in breaking and entering; just don’t tell Ochre…”

Scarlet noticed with pleasure the brief smile of amusement on his friend’s face as he opened the car door. 

He slipped quickly across the street and down the drive of the neighbouring house, which was effectively shielded from Corinna’s house by a line of weeping larch trees.  The fence between the properties presented him with no problem and he scrambled over it.  A security light snapped on and cursing, he moved quickly to the rear of the house.  He glanced back across the sweep of the lawn and saw Blue getting out of the car: in the spotlight of an overhead street light, he could see that his partner had a Mysteron detector around his shoulders and was carrying something in his right hand. 

As he sidled up to the glass doors at the rear entrance, Scarlet saw the front security light switch on and heard the chime of the front doorbell.  He leant back against the wall, to avoid being seen by anyone moving to answer the door. 

A few minutes later the bell chimed again.

So, no one’s going to answer… I’ll try the patio doors and see if I can get inside.

It was a matter of seconds for Scarlet to force the lock and slide the door open.  There was a faint smell of coffee in the air, suggesting that someone had been here recently, even if they were not here at that moment.  

Scarlet moved cautiously towards the front door to avoid tripping over any unseen furniture as the rear security light went out.  He opened it as quietly as he could, to let Blue in.   He laid a finger across his lips, although he knew that, given the American was as well-trained in security work as he was, silence would be second-nature to his companion in such circumstances. He was not surprised, but a little dismayed, to see that in addition to the Mysteron detector, Blue had an electron rifle and had drawn his Spectrum pistol.   

Blue gestured up the stairs with a questioning frown and, with a nod of agreement, Scarlet led the way.

The house was unnaturally quiet: he could hear the hum of the air conditioning and the ticking of a wall clock.  Somewhere a tap was dripping… from outside came the muffled sounds of cars and people going about their daily lives…

Scarlet raised his hand to stop Captain Blue moving and concentrated hard. He shut out the sound of Blue’s breathing and tilted his head to focus on the silence…

Only it wasn’t silence: there was somebody else breathing.  He pointed to the front bedroom and stepped to the top of the stairs, leaving space for Blue to stand on one side of the door. 

Then he kicked it open and leapt inside.

In the light from the security lamp he could see Elderslie standing by a bed, pointing a gun at Corinna who was sitting on the edge, bound and gagged, her eyes wide with fear. 

The surprise of Scarlet’s entrance made Elderslie jump.

“Scarlet!” he gasped, firing wildly towards him.

Corinna sprang to her feet with a muffled cry, but Elderslie spun round, and pushed her down onto the bed again.

“Let her go!” Blue shouted, striding towards his sister.

Elderslie hesitated, unsure whether to fire at Blue or his hostage, and as Blue barged into him, knocking him off balance, the gun went off, hitting Corinna.

“No!” Scarlet and Blue cried in unison, as Corinna, who had struggled to her feet once more in an attempt to reach her brother, fell back onto the bed, a stain of red blood spreading across the coverlet.

Regaining his balance, Elderslie aimed at Blue, but Scarlet had already recovered his wits and he fired first, hitting the man between the eyes.   The Mysteron agent fell like a stone and the moment Elderslie dropped, Scarlet dashed to Corinna just as the light went out. 

There was a pause, while Blue found the light switch and as the light came on, Scarlet saw that Corinna was unconscious and bleeding heavily from a bullet wound in her left shoulder.  A few inches lower and it would have gone straight through her heart.  He gathered her into his arms.

Blue stood over them, looking down at his sister.  Scarlet glanced up at the whirr of the Mysteron detector; knowing that however heartless it seemed at this precise moment, to be checking that Corinna was still human, it was essential.  Both men held their breath as the machine processed the image.   

An x-ray, clearly showing the bullet lodged in her shoulder, flashed onto the screen.

“She’s human,” Blue breathed, relief flooding onto his face. “I’ll call 911.”

“No,” Scarlet snapped.  “Call Cloudbase.  Get the medijet here.  The colonel will have one lined up; he’s not one to miss that kind of trick.  It’ll be quicker.  Besides, we need to get a clean-up squad in here before the emergency services arrive – especially the police.  Fawn can patch her up on Cloudbase, as she’ll need to be debriefed when she’s fit enough.”

“S.I.G.,” Blue replied, his cap mic descending into position as he spoke.  He gave a brief report and, in response to his request for a medical evacuation, Lieutenant Green announced that a medijet would be with them in approximately 2.5 minutes.

“How approximate can you get?” Scarlet muttered, rolling his eyes.  He was still cradling Corinna in his arms, his hand pressed against the bullet wound to try and stem the flow of blood.

Blue now turned his attention to the motionless Elderslie.  By rights he ought to be dead, but Spectrum had learnt the hard way that some Mysteron agents shared the retrometabolism that made Scarlet such a thorn in the aliens’ side.   He clicked the Mysteron detector and, when a black and white photograph appeared on the screen, he dropped it beside Scarlet, without comment.  It was proof, if any were needed, that the man had been Mysteronised. 

Flipping the safety catch off the electron rifle, Blue fired the full charge into Elderslie’s corpse. There was the acrid smell of burning hair, charred carpet fibres and singed flesh.

Grimacing in disgust, Blue went to open a window before reporting to Cloudbase that an electron rifle had been discharged and the Mysteronised Elderslie ‘terminated’. 

Colonel White acknowledged the report and congratulated his agents on a successful mission.

“A terrestrial clean-up squad will be there in eight minutes; one of you needs to supervise them and then contact the local police. A Security Notice will be issued as soon as the… detritus has been removed.   You should be able to see the medijet coming in to land now…  The return journey to Cloudbase will take twenty to twenty-five minutes, the base is already moving towards your present location, and Doctor Fawn has a trauma unit ready and waiting.”

“S.I.G., Colonel,” Blue responded.

He peered through the window.  “There’s the medijet,” he told Scarlet. “I’ll go and let the paramedics in…” He glanced at his field partner and at Corinna, lying in his arms, and with a wry smile, he added, “I’ll wait for the clean-up squad; you take her to Fawn.  Oh, and Paul, you might want to wait a little longer before you speak to Cori when she’s conscious… you’re not quite back to your normal self yet and she’s had enough trauma to deal with lately, if you get me?”

“I get you.”

Scarlet gave a grateful smile as Blue went downstairs to fetch the paramedics.

Chapter Eight - Cloudbase – Christmas Day

“Well, at least the media are still too obsessed with the Mysteron attack to worry about what’s happened to Rafe Elderslie,” Captain Grey remarked, as he switched off the newscast.

“I’m not sure all the speculation about the Mysterons is a good thing, though,” Rhapsody Angel replied.  “They seem to be building up quite a head of steam for the theory that they’re somehow connected to Bereznik.  I read this investigative exposé about how the Bereznians have a secret base on the Moon and are a threat to the lunar colonies as well as globally.”

“Don’t worry,” Grey replied, smiling.  “I saw a Bereznian newscast yesterday that said the Mysterons are a secret World Government agency, tasked with destroying the freedom-loving people of Bereznik and their allies.  I think the debate will keep everyone guessing for some time to come.”

“And we came out of it well,” Melody said.  “There’s been nothing but praise heaped on Spectrum for our swift action and nobody’s suggesting it would be a good idea not to replace all the equipment we lost.”

“Thank goodness,” Rhapsody agreed. “When the next Mysteron attack comes we need to be battle-ready; delay could be fatal for more than just us.”

“There have been no more sightings of Captain Black since he was killed in Boston,” Melody reminded her.  “Perhaps he really is dead now and the Mysterons aren’t able to launch another attack?”

“We can but hope,” said Grey.  “But I have a nasty feeling we haven’t seen the last of him.”

“Do you think he killed Elderslie?” Rhapsody asked.  “Before he turned up in Boston as a Mysteron, I mean.”

“It would fit in with their usual modus operandi,” Grey remarked.  “Of course, we can’t know when they killed him; it might’ve been months ago.  In fact, if they wanted him to incorporate all of that subliminal coding in the music, it probably was months ago.”

“I suppose we may never find his body – his real body, I mean,” Rhapsody said sadly.

Grey nodded.  “But the colonel’s sent Ochre and a team of police-trained ground-based agents to search all of his known properties.  There’s not much more we can do.  If the Mysterons killed him while he was in transit to somewhere else, or somewhere he’d never been before, chances are, we won’t find him.”

“I guess it’s lucky Elderslie’s such a known reclusive,” said Melody.  “People aren’t going to wonder where he is for years.”

“I wonder if they will ever play ‘Radiance of Eternity’ again.” Rhapsody said. 

Grey shrugged.  “Maybe, if Magenta and Green can strip out the coding… It sounded like a nice tune, from what I heard of it.”

Melody shuddered.  “It’s going to take a lot to divorce that ‘nice tune’ from its consequences,” she said.  “At least, in my mind.”

***

Captain Ochre’s report to Colonel White revealed no trace of Rafe Elderslie in any of his previously known haunts.

“We checked his appointments log, and there was nothing after two months ago.  Before that there were almost daily meetings with musicians and record company executives.”

“So it would appear that the Mysterons killed him some time after he arranged for the recording concert,” the colonel said, thoughtfully.

“Can’t even be sure of that, sir,” Ochre explained.  “Looking back over the log there were long periods without any entries going back years.  If he was seeing people then he obviously didn’t think it worth recording.”

He tilted his radio cap towards the back of his head and frowned.  “I’ve spoken to a couple of the musicians and company execs.  They couldn’t recall anything unusual about Elderslie, apart from one young woman who was dealing with the recording concert.  She remembers Elderslie being very insistent on certain aspects, such as the recording equipment used, right down to the actual tapes.  It made me wonder if perhaps it was the master tapes that had been doctored with the coding, sir.”

“That is something we hadn’t considered,” Colonel White acknowledged.  “But the music still affected the concert audience who wouldn’t hear the master tapes, only the live performance.”

Ochre shrugged.  “Might still be worth investigating, sir.  Who’s to say there wasn’t something hypnotic in the live music and something that interfered with communications and computers on the master tapes?”

The colonel nodded.  “I will ask Captain Magenta to check it out, along with those tapes of the work in development you found.  In fact, I might ask Spectrum Intelligence to start work on some of those, as there are so many, otherwise it could take far too long to reach any kind of definite conclusion. If we can pinpoint where in the development of the final piece, the… eh… hypnotic effects or the subliminal coding appears, we may be able to build up a picture of the Mysterons’ involvement.  Well done, Captain Ochre; you’ve conducted a very thorough and efficient investigation.”

“Thank you, sir.”

***

His de-briefing over, Ochre went to join Magenta in the computer lab where he had been working on Elderslie’s tapes since the original incident.

“You’re lucky you didn’t show up here five minutes ago,” Magenta said.

“I am?”

“Yeah; Colonel White’s just told me to prepare to ship at least half of these tapes to Spectrum London for analysis.  If I’d had to do them all myself, I might’ve been less inclined to be friendly.”

Ochre grinned as his colleague continued:

“You can decide which ones should go.”

“Oh, wow: such responsibility.  I’m honoured.”

“Fill up that haz-chem crate, Rick.”

Ochre started to pick tapes up from the workbench and stack them in the box.  He glanced at the dates written on each case to see they were in sequence, and suddenly stopped. 

“Pat, look at this one.  Elderslie’s written something on it as well as the date.”

“What does it say?”

“Well, his writing is even worse than mine, but I think it says: ‘hypnotic susceptibility and attentional styles – exposition and experimental’.”

“Here, let me see it.”

Ochre handed it over.  Magenta nodded.  “You’re right, it does say that.  Okay, let’s have this one in the player and listen to what Mr Elderslie thinks he was experimenting with.”

***

“Calm down, Captain Magenta.  Now, explain that to me again,” Colonel White ordered.

“Yes, sir: sorry sir.” Magenta drew a deep breath and began:

“One of the tapes Ochre brought back, dated about 18 months ago, had a note on the case: ‘hypnotic susceptibility and attentional styles – exposition and experimental’; so we played it.  There is music there but there is also a conversation between Elderslie and someone he refers to as ‘Turner’.”

“Captain Black?” the colonel muttered.

“It certainly sounds like him, sir, although the quality isn’t as good as we’d like for a 100% positive identification.  Anyway, Turner is talking to Elderslie about a medical project to develop musical resonances that induce a hypnotic state.  He claims this would allow medical procedures to be done without anaesthetics and be useful in cases where patients are too frail, or in places where there are no resources.”

“Go on, Captain.”

“There isn’t really much more, Colonel, apart from a good deal of psychobabble, which might possibly mean something to Doctor Fawn but means nothing to me.  However, towards the end, Elderslie says he’d be interested in working with Turner; or at least, utilising his research, as far as it went, and that he’s currently working on a composition he intends to dedicate to ‘the fallen’ – that’s what he called them, sir – and would be delighted if that work could also have a practical use in fields of conflict.”

“Poor deluded man,” White murmured and then said: “I think this is enough to show that Elderslie was not Mysteronised until after the initial recording concert. That would explain why none of his Mysteron detector tests showed positive.  He wanted a live audience to test the effectiveness of his music, and so, possibly, did the Mysterons.  Once they had proof that it would work and that people would go into trance-like states, they were ready to carry out the next part of their threat.   Elderslie genuinely thought he was creating a work that would be a boon to Mankind.  He couldn’t know that the Mysterons had other plans.”

“Yes, sir.  It is very sad,” Magenta said. “I’d also hazard a guess that whatever effect he’d achieved, by including what he thought of as ‘hypnotic resonances’ in the music, was enhanced by the use of Mysteronised recording equipment and master tapes. We’ll need to test the equipment at Rigaudon Records, sir, and, maybe, in the Bandranaik Hall as well.”

“Yes; yes indeed we will.  Copy the psychobabble to Doctor Fawn, Captain, and you concentrate on the live recording tape.  See if you can determine whether the subliminal coding was in the music or on the tape. Send the rest of the tapes to Spectrum London for routine analysis.  We need to find any further evidence that might be on them.  In the meantime, I will instruct Major Fulvous to impound all the equipment used and to have the two venues searched from roof to sewers for Elderslie’s body.”

“S.I.G., Colonel.”

“Oh, and Captain Magenta: well done.  You and Captain Ochre appear to have resolved the outstanding ambiguities in double-quick time.”

“Thank you, sir.”

***

Doctor Fawn had kept Corinna Svenson in an isolation ward since she came out of surgery.  He issued regular bulletins on her progress to her anxious brother and equally anxious lover, but stated that what she really needed was peace and quiet to get over and come to terms with the trauma of recent events. 

“You have to remember, she’s a civilian.  Everything that happened to her is well out of her comfort zone, quite apart from the fact that she believes she shot you dead, Captain Scarlet.  Quite how we’re going to explain that to her, I’m not sure.”

“I did my best,” Blue explained.  “I said it wasn’t as bad as it looked.”

“Did she believe you?” Fawn asked in surprise.

“No; it looked pretty bad.”

“But I’m fine now,” Scarlet reasoned.  “You’d never know that the bullet hit my face.”

“Agreed,” Fawn said, “But Corinna saw what happened to you, as did Blue and I, and, let me tell you, it isn’t something any of us are going to forget in a hurry.”

“Then we will have to tell her the truth,” Scarlet insisted.  “Tell her what happened to me and why, as far as we know it.”

“The colonel isn’t going to wear that,” Fawn replied patiently.  “He couldn’t agree to a civilian knowing the truth about the Mysterons, and the knowledge of your retrometabolism has to be a closely guarded secret.  You know he’s said that the best solution would be if you never saw her again.”

“The colonel can go… fish!”  Scarlet’s frustrated anger exploded.  “This has nothing to do with him, or with Spectrum! It has to be Cori’s decision, or I won’t accept it! Whatever she decides will be what happens.”

“He isn’t going to like that,” Blue remarked.

“It’s none of his business!” Scarlet retorted.

“I’m not sure I like it either,” Blue continued quietly, as if Scarlet had not spoken.

“None of your ruddy business, Blondie!” his field partner snapped.  He was surprised and hurt by Blue’s admission.

“It is my business; she’s my sister and I’m the one who knows her best.  I’ve told you that she’s… fragile.  Her mental state…”

“You do not know her best!  If you did you would not judge her like the rest of your family do: poor, needy, ‘fragile’ Corinna.  You ignore the fact that this woman’s forged herself a career in a tough and demanding industry; she’s stood up for herself and won the respect of her peers.  It’s only her family who insist on belittling her achievements and considering her, somehow, as the weak link in the family.”

“She’s vulnerable emotionally,” Blue began, but Scarlet turned on him:

“Emotionally she’s as tough as old boots!”

Blue shook his head, implying that Scarlet didn’t know what he was talking about. 

Exasperated by this reaction, Scarlet said: “She needed to be, with a mother who wanted to keep her helpless and dependent.” 

He waved a hand, cutting off Blue’s tart response, and continued: 

“Yes, I know what happened: you and Cori have both told me, so I’ve heard both sides of the story.  But here’s a revelation for you, Adam: she got over it.  In fact, for your information, what’s blighted her life about the whole episode is that she blames herself.  She blames herself for introducing FloLyn, a man she knew as manipulative and predatory, to the kid brother she described as ‘as impressionable as wet clay’.  She thinks that single act is responsible for your history of failed relationships, and it blighted your life!  I’m not so sure: I think you know, and always knew, what you’re doing, and why. But, she’s not so sure you ever really got over it and, sometimes, neither am I.   Whatever the truth of it, it seems to me, that Corinna knows you better than you know her – or yourself, Adam!”

He turned to Fawn. 

“When she’s ready to see me – and she will want to see me – I will go to her, whatever the colonel says.  If her decision is that we’re finished, so be it.  I won’t like it, but I will accept it.  If she still wants me in her life then there’s no power on this earth – or off it! – can keep me from her.  And you can tell the colonel that!”

Picking up his radio cap, Scarlet left Fawn’s office without a backward glance.

Fawn risked a glance at Blue, who was glaring after the departing Scarlet with something approaching hostility in his expression.

“I always suspected that tact and diplomacy were something of a closed book to Captain Scarlet,” he remarked genially, in an attempt to defuse the antagonism in the air.

Blue glanced down at him.  “Forget it, Doc.  That’s been brewing for some time.  Scarlet knows I have reservations about his relationship with Cori: not because of who he is, but because of what he is.  I guess that he’s got a valid argument, at least.  If she cares enough for him not to mind, why should I?”

Fawn nodded and Blue gave a wry smile. 

“Trouble is, I can’t shake off the wariness I still have, of the man who frequently gives his life in the defence of Mankind.”

“What happened to Paul Metcalfe is hard to accept on a rational level,” Fawn assured him.  “That’s why the colonel wants Captain Scarlet’s story to remain top secret.  The first time the Mysterons succeeded in carrying out one of their threats, Scarlet would be the obvious scapegoat.  We just have to try and accept him as he is and make his life – which, let’s face it, is pretty awful 90% of the time - as agreeable as we can.”

“Even if it means destroying my sister’s peace of mind?”

Fawn shook his head.  “You have to let her decide, Blue.  She’s a grown woman, and women have their own ways of coping with… the exceptional, that we mere males wot not of…”

Blue gave a snort of amusement.  “Doc, you missed your calling.  You should’ve written pot-boiler self-help books for the masses.  You’d be a millionaire by now.”

Fawn smiled.  “What’s to say I don’t?  Never heard of a nom-de-plume?”

This time, Blue actually laughed.  “Now I have rumbled your little secret, I shall keep my eyes peeled for your next best seller: ’A Girl’s Guide on What to do when Your Boyfriend really is from Mars’…”

***

Colonel White made it quite clear that he disapproved of Captain Scarlet’s stated intention of continuing his relationship with Corinna Svenson, subject to her agreement, of course.  But, after his subordinate made it clear that he was not going to change his mind on the matter, he reluctantly gave his permission for a meeting on Cloudbase.

“After all,” he reasoned to Doctor Fawn, with whom he had discussed the situation at length, “she may not wish to continue their liaison, given what happened, and, even if she does, we’ll have a chance to talk to her, which we wouldn’t get if this meeting took place in Boston or New York.”

Fawn nodded. “I have to say that it looks to me as if she’s in two minds about even seeing him, Colonel.  I haven’t, of course, explained how Scarlet’s come to be fit and well after the shooting, and she’s not really asked me about it.  I can see that she’s bothered by it.”

“She knows what she saw, I suppose?”

Fawn nodded.  “She does; and she recalls what she considered to be her brother’s ‘pretty feeble’ explanation that Scarlet’s harder to kill because he’s different from other men. At least, she considered it feeble at the time.  Now, she’s not so sure, naturally enough.”

The colonel remembered his wife warning him about the consequences of allowing relationships to flourish on Cloudbase, and conceded that, once again, Olivia had foreseen that problems that could well arise with over 600 young and healthy libidos living in close proximity.  It was ironic that the problem created by Captain Scarlet was exacerbated because the woman involved was not in Spectrum.  But the problem existed nonetheless.

“When will Ms Svenson be fit enough to see him?”

Doctor Fawn gave a slight shrug.  “She’s fit enough now, as long as it doesn’t go on for too long or cause her any grief.”

White exhaled and shook his head. “It’s going to have to happen; only, should we try and prepare her first, or talk to her after Scarlet has explained?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”  Fawn considered for a long moment and then continued, “Blue wants to talk to her as well.  Maybe, we should let him talk to her whilst I’m present, and then let her see Scarlet if she still wants to?”

White nodded.  “When will she be fit enough to leave Cloudbase?”

“As soon as you give the order. At the moment, I don’t think she even realises she’s on Cloudbase, and we haven’t actually told her.  I thought it might be an idea, therefore, to sedate her and transfer her to a ground base, before we let her go home. So, I’ve arranged for her to be transferred to Spectrum New York, for a minimum of 48 hours, before we release her.   Doctor Gardiner will keep a close eye on her until she’s fully fit.  I presumed you wouldn’t want her explain to her own physician what had happened to her.”

“Good grief, I hadn’t thought of that!  She must be debriefed and sign a confidentiality agreement before she leaves Cloudbase.  I’ll get Lieutenant Auburn working on that straight away; she’s sure to have a pro-forma somewhere in her legal attaché case that suits the situation.”

Fawn nodded.  “And in the meantime?”

“Let Captain Blue see his sister with you in attendance.  Then she can see Scarlet.”

***

 

 Corinna was sitting up in bed, her left shoulder in a sling and her face pale and drawn. Someone had made an attempt to decorate her room with a few streamers, and a small table-top-sized Christmas tree stood on the cupboard opposite the bed.  It seemed that this display of seasonal goodwill had worked, because she smiled in pleasure when Blue and Fawn came through the door. 

“Addie!  It’s so good to see you!”

“Merry Christmas, Cori!  How are you?”  Blue went to the bed and leant down to kiss her cheek.

She grasped his hand. “Merry Christmas, Bro!  I’m fine: Doctor Fawn and his nurses have been looking after me so well, I feel a bit of a fraud.”

“Nonsense, you make the best of it until you’re fit again.”

“They won’t tell me anything, Addie.  I don’t even know where I am.”

“You’re in a Spectrum base.  Mom and Dad have been told that you’re safe, don’t worry.”

“This is what you do?  For the World Government.  You and… and Paul?”

“Yes; this is what we do.”

“No wonder you’re always so secretive about it.  I used to think you were just being ornery, now I realise you had to keep it quiet.”

“And so must you,” Blue urged.

“I will; of course I will!  I do understand.”

He nodded and squeezed her hand.  “It hasn’t been easy keeping it from everyone; I didn’t want to do it.”

Corinna looked down at their hands and asked, “Did you tell Dad?”

Blue nodded, rather sheepishly. 

Doctor Fawn came to his rescue with the official explanation: “One member of the family has to know, it is part of our regulations.”

She smiled.  “I see.  It makes sense to tell someone, and, of all of us, he’d be the best one to tell.  I kinda guessed he must’ve always known, once I learned the truth.  He’s always sticking up for you when Mom gets shirty, and, given how much he always wanted you to work with him, I did wonder why.”

Blue looked grateful for her understanding, but he quickly turned to the business of their visit.  “Cori, I have to ask you: what do you remember of what happened with Elderslie?”

“He turned up at the house; I guess he’d followed me?  He said he had to wait for Paul.”  She looked up at her brother and said, “He came for me, didn’t he?  Paul came to rescue me and somehow Elderslie knew he would.”

“Yes, he came and I was with him.”

“I know you were, Addie.  Thank you…” She blinked away unwanted tears and let go of his hand to reach for a tissue to dab away the moisture.  “Why did Elderslie want Paul?”

“What do you remember about Paul?”

“I shot him.” She closed her eyes and her bottom lip trembled.  “I blew half his head off.  And then… and then… oh, Addie!  He came to rescue me!  He was alive, but his poor face….”

She was weeping uncontrollably, and with a quick glance at Fawn for permission, Blue reached over to gather her into his arms to comfort her.

“Hush… there’s nothing to cry about, it’s okay, Cori.  Paul’s okay.”

When she had calmed down, Blue explained, as much as he had been given permission to, about the Mysterons and what had happened to Paul Metcalfe.

“So, you see, Cori, whatever happens to him, Paul recovers.  Doctor Fawn calls it retrometabolism, because his body repairs itself to exactly where it was before the incident.”

“So you shot him too, when you were at the London Car-Vu?”

“Yeah.  He’ll be thinking the Svensons have got something against him at this rate.”

She giggled.  “Idiot.”

Blue grinned at her. 

“How long will this ‘retrometabolism’ last for?” Cori asked, glancing up at Fawn.

Doctor Fawn had his answer to this inevitable question already prepared: “We have no idea what caused it or if it will stay with him – potentially – for as long as he lives.”

“But if he always recovers…?” she left the sentence unfinished.  “Oh.”

Fawn realised she had grasped the logical implications of the situation.  “Of course, we’re speculating,” he said. “But while it lasts Captain Scarlet is virtually indestructible.”

“Oh! Poor Paul!”

There was a long silence, while each of them considered the potential fate that awaited Captain Scarlet.

“You can’t tell anyone about this,” Blue told her, breaking the silence as he grasped her hand and looked into her tear-filled eyes.  “This is a secret that’s even more sensitive than our working for Spectrum.  If Paul’s condition ever became common knowledge, life could become impossible for him.  For his sake, you have to make sure you never talk of this – to anyone.”

She dragged her hand away.  “I can keep secrets; you don’t have to lecture me, Adam.”

“I know, I know you can.  Look, Cori, do you want to see Paul?  He’s asking to see you.  He’s been so worried about you, but it’s your decision and he has agreed that whatever you decide, he will honour it and do as you wish.”

Fawn was mildly surprised and extremely pleased that Blue had been honest about Scarlet’s state of mind.  He was aware of the American’s reservations, but realised that he cared deeply for his sister and – he suspected – for his friend.

Corinna glanced away and bit her lip.  When she looked back up at the men, there was a certainty in her expression that had not been there before.

“Yes; of course I will see him,” was all she said and she refused to be drawn any further on the matter.

***

“You can go in and see her, but I can’t let you stay long,” Fawn explained to Scarlet, as they walked through the Sick Bay towards the room where Corinna was recuperating.   

“Is she okay?”

“Yes; she will be.”  Fawn sighed and stopped walking, so that Scarlet was forced to stop as well, and turn back to face him.  “The physical injuries are healing, but I’m not so sure about the emotional ones.  I do understand, from what you said to Blue, that you consider Corinna to be far stronger in character than her family believe; but, when you’ve seen what happened to you, happen to someone you care about, it doesn’t matter if you’re made of granite: something’s going to give.”

A smile broke onto Scarlet’s face.  “She cares about me?”

Fawn shook his head in exasperation.  “From my observations as an unbiased witness, I’d say that she does.  Or, and this is the moot point, Captain, she did care for Paul Metcalfe: a man she thought she’d accidently killed in a particularly horrific way.”

Scarlet swallowed hard.  “I am Paul Metcalfe, Doctor.  That hasn’t changed.”

“I know it, you know it and I suspect Blue knows it too, deep down.  But you must give Corinna the chance, and the time, to discover that for herself.”

Scarlet nodded.  “I understand.  I guess everyone on Cloudbase, or at least, everyone in the know, has got used to my… retrometabolism. I tend to forget that it’s going to seem freakish to anyone else.”

Fawn place a hand on the taller man’s arm.  “We value Captain Scarlet and honour Paul Metcalfe.  I am sure that is what she will do, given time.”

“Right. So, what you’re saying is that all I’ll need is to have patience, is that it, eh?”  Scarlet shrugged.  “Patience is not my strong suit, Doc.”

“Time to start cultivating it then,” Fawn said, as he left Scarlet to make the rest of the way on his own.

Pausing to check his face in a wall mirror and brush his hair down after taking off his uniform cap, Scarlet went and knocked gently on the door to Corinna’s room.

“Come in.”

He pressed the catch and the door slid back.  To his surprise Corinna wasn’t alone.  Sitting by the bed, which was covered with a variety of glossy magazines, sat Symphony Angel.

“Hello, Captain Scarlet,” Corinna said, as tell-tale colour flooded into her cheeks.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Scarlet.  “I didn’t know you had company.  I don’t want to interrupt.”

“No, it’s okay,” Symphony said, getting to her feet.  “I ought to be going; I’m on duty very soon.”

“Thanks for the magazines, Symphony. I’ll let you have them back soon.”

“Oh, take your time; I have dozens of others.  I can come round again, if you’d like?”

“Please do, if you have the time.  I’ll have made a decision by then; I promise.”  Corinna smiled up at the younger woman.

“Okay, it’s a deal.  Merry Christmas, Cori, and to you, Captain. ’Bye for now…”

“’Bye, Symphony. Merry Christmas.”

Scarlet watched the door close behind the Angel Pilot before he turned to look at Corinna.  She was industriously gathering up the magazines with her one good hand and resolutely avoided his gaze.

“She seems like a very nice person,” Cori said, once she had piled the magazines up together.  “She came to bring me something to read, and she’s offered to do my hair for me.  She tells me that she has a diploma in hairdressing; isn’t that amazing?  A jet pilot with a diploma in hairdressing.  Never mind that she studied math and technology at Yale.  She has a diploma in hairdressing! Whatever next?”

“She’s a fascinating woman, in many ways,” Scarlet remarked, “and she certainly seems to spend plenty of time doing her hair.  She does it for the other Angels too, I think.”

“Oh, really?  Then I might take up her offer.  My hair feels like straw at the moment.  I must look a right mess.”

“No; you look beautiful, as always.”

As he reached to take the magazines and put them on the bedside locker for her, their hands touched.

“Thanks, Paul.”

“You called me Paul…”

“Shouldn’t I?  Isn’t it allowed on the base?  Sorry.”

“No!  No, it’s fine.”  He smiled in pleasure.  “I thought… well, I thought you might not consider me to be Paul.”

“But, if you’re not Paul, who are you?” she asked, looking into his eyes for the first time.

“Sometimes I wonder that myself.”

They gazed at each other in silence for a moment, and Scarlet was dismayed to sense that she was uncomfortable in his company.

Corinna broke the silence.

“Sit down; if you’re stopping, that is.”

He gave a wry chuckle and sat down on the chair Symphony had vacated.

There was another edgy silence.

“How are you?” he asked eventually, as if he’d just remembered his manners.

She smiled.  “I’m fine, thank you.  But surely, I should be asking you that?”

“Oh, I’m okay.”

“Really, Paul?”

“Sure.  I thought Blue – Adam – had told you about… well, about what happened to me?”

“Yes.  Yes, he did.  I know that what you did when you kidnapped the World President wasn’t your fault.  And, please, don’t think I don’t appreciate the enormity of it all.  Still, it’s kinda hard to take it all in, especially the Mysterons and the retrometabolism – is that what they call it?”

Scarlet nodded. 

“To think that you’re invulnerable to injuries and can recover in no time at all.  I have to say, it staggers belief and, if I hadn’t witnessed it myself, I don’t think I would believe it.”

“I know it’s hard to get your head round, Cori; but it hasn’t changed who I am.”

“I know.  You’re Paul; I can see that.” 

She smiled at him, and hope flared in his heart once more.  Yet, even so, he knew he had to tell her everything and gamble that she would still want him there.

Choosing his words carefully, Scarlet said:

“And I’m not invulnerable.  According to Fawn, I’m ‘virtually indestructible’: whatever that means.  I now know that the effect of any injury is still the same; I just recover from it, even if for a normal person it would be… terminal.  I guess the plus side is that it means I can try to take the heat off some of my colleagues, when we’re up against the Mysterons.  I’m expendable, because, like a bad penny, I always return.”

“I don’t think they see you like that: expendable,” Cori said persuasively.  “I know Adam doesn’t.  He understands what the situation is and what it must cost you.  My brother’s not perfect, by any stretch of the imagination, but he’s intelligent and imaginative enough to appreciate that Spectrum’s very lucky to have you on their side, Paul.”

“He doesn’t trust me, though.  Not 100%.  He doesn’t trust me with you.”

Corinna sighed.  “He’s not a good judge when it comes to relationships.  His own have been pretty disastrous.  Mind you, he’s never actually shot a lover in the head; so far, anyway.  That was all my own doing.”

 “It was an accident, I know that.”

“Yes.  You were the last person I wanted to… hurt.”

“If it’s any comfort, Cori, I didn’t feel a thing; as far as I can remember.  That’s one good thing, I guess: the memory of what happens to me fades pretty quickly.  Otherwise I might be less willing to go back on duty.”

She gave a very shaky smile and bit her lip.  “Thank goodness, at least, for small mercies.”

They smiled at each other and lapsed into a silence that stretched into embarrassment. 

“Look,” Scarlet said, starting to get up.  “I… I’d better go.  I... I just wanted to see you were okay.”

“Oh. D’you have to?  I hoped you’d stay a while.”

“You did?”

She nodded.  “I hoped you’d still want to see me.  I felt awful about what happened and I’d convinced myself, once Adam’d told me you were okay, that you’d never want to see me again.   I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to go, Paul, but I’d like it much better if you’d stay.”

He sat back down. This was the best Christmas present he could imagine.

“I can stay just as long as you like…” said Captain Scarlet, happily.

The End

Author’s Notes:

This story follows on from Children of this Universe (parts 1 and 2) which are already on the website.   The original characters in it are the same and I have tried to fill in enough information, so that it isn’t necessary to have read the earlier stories to follow this one, without covering old ground too much.

I hope that I have not deviated from the accepted chronology too much, but as there are several versions of it, I felt I wouldn’t be doing too much harm. 

My thanks to Hazel Köhler for beta reading, advice and constructive criticism and to Chris Bishop for hosting the story on her website.