The Legacy

represented only the uncomfortable knowledge that their rural idyll in the Underground safe house would not last for ever. Peter would hunch over it whenever he got the chance, sending messages, downloading news programmes, searching for information on Longevity drugs, on Pincent Pharma, on all the things he hated. Anna understood, but that didn’t mean she didn’t sometimes entertain thoughts of smashing the computer and cutting them off completely.
    Ben was awake in his makeshift cot when she walked into his room, pulling himself up to a standing position, a huge smile plastered on his face.
    ‘Mama Nanna!’ he said excitedly as Anna approached, his name for her a result of many attempts at explaining that Anna was like his mother but really his sister, and that he could call her Anna or Mama, or . . . ‘Mama Nanna up now. Nanna up.’
    Obediently, Anna lifted him out of the cot; he wrapped his little arms around her neck briefly, then wriggled his way on to the floor. Anna guided him down the corridor to the kitchen, then opened the door and ushered him through.
    ‘Teter,’ Ben said, toddling in the direction of the kitchen, of Peter. ‘Teter play,’ he said, nodding to himself as though deciding that this was a reasonable and sensible expectation. Anna loved that – loved his innocence, his lack of awareness that if anyone saw him they would call the Catchers. Children did not exist in a world that had become the preserve of the old; there was no place for them, no infrastructure, no welcome. New life only emphasised the futility and endlessness of old life, Anna thought. That was why people were scared of children, she told herself. That was why people betrayed them and called the Authorities. And that was why she kept Ben and Molly hidden, why she would not leave this house, this land, whose isolation provided them with the freedom and independence they would find nowhere else.
    ‘Teter!’ Ben’s eyes opened wide with pleasure as he saw Peter sitting at the computer, and he ran over immediately. Molly was asleep on Peter’s shoulder, Anna noticed with a wry smile. ‘Teter play. Teter play now.’
    But instead of turning round and giving Ben a hug and a smile of welcome, tousling his hair, Peter remained still. Frowning, Anna moved towards him; he was staring at the computer screen, his brow furrowed.
    ‘Peter?’ she chided. ‘Peter, Ben wants to play.’
    ‘Not now.’ His voice was tense and Anna noticed that his shoulders were tight.
    ‘What?’ she asked, her heart immediately thudding in her chest. ‘What’s happened?’ Possible catastrophes rushed through her head: Jude was dead. Pip was dead. The Underground had collapsed. Richard Pincent had found them. The Catchers were coming. Everything was over. ‘Is it something terrible?’ She scooped Ben up in her arms, her eyes moving anxiously towards Molly. ‘Peter, tell me what’s happened.’
    Slowly, Peter looked up. Then he shook himself. ‘Nothing. Nothing at all. I was just reading a message from Jude.’
    ‘What did he say?’ Anna said, her throat constricting and an ominous foreboding taking hold of her. It’s started. I knew something terrible was on the horizon and now it’s here . ‘Is something wrong?’
    ‘Not wrong,’ Peter said cautiously. ‘Not in so many words. He just said to stay alert.’
    ‘We’re always alert,’ Anna said, looking around worriedly. ‘We only go out for two hours a day and we never leave a trail and –’
    ‘And we’re going to be fine,’ Peter said, getting up and walking towards her. ‘Like I said, it wasn’t a warning. It was probably just a reminder.’
    ‘A reminder,’ Anna said, biting her lip. ‘Are you sure?’
    Peter pulled her towards him. ‘Anna, we’re safe here. You know we are. No one can find us and even if they did I’d protect you.’
    ‘You promise?’ Anna asked tentatively.
    ‘I promise,’ Peter said, kissing the top of her head distractedly as his eyes returned to the computer screen. ‘Although I wish I knew what was going on. I’m sick of being treated like a convalescing child up here in the middle of nowhere.’
    There was something about the way he said it that made Anna’s stomach clench. A few times recently she had found Peter pacing up and down, a look in his eyes that she recognised, that she feared. Eyes that darted around, thinking, noticing, planning. ‘I don’t mind not knowing,’ she said quickly. ‘It’s a small price to