The Legacy

front of them, even now as Derek pushed them roughly down the corridor towards Richard’s office, Jude was waiting for the look, waiting for a twitch, something – anything – that told him Pip was playing a game, a complicated game that he didn’t understand, a game that explained everything, that made it all OK.
    Pip didn’t even turn round; he just walked slowly, shuffling along the corridor like an old man. Jude hated him. He hated him more than he’d ever hated anyone – even Richard Pincent. Because Richard Pincent had never pretended to be someone he wasn’t. Because Richard Pincent had never earned Jude’s love and then smashed it into little pieces.
    As Jude approached the office, Pip stepped aside and Derek moved forward to knock. Slowly he opened the door to reveal Richard leaning on his desk looking terrible, his skin a strange green colour, his eyes bulging. At the sight of Derek he stood up and smiled. ‘Derek,’ he said. ‘You have the Surpluses?’
    He saw Jude and Sheila and frowned uncertainly, then his eyes lit up. ‘You have these ones as well? See, Peter? There’s no one left now.’
    Peter’s face was white as Jude and Sheila were pushed into the office. Sheila stumbled and fell to the ground. Peter immediately held out his hand to help her up but she shook her head, wrapping her arms round her knees and hiding her head in them. Peter looked at Jude searchingly, but Jude could barely meet his eyes – he had nothing but despair to communicate.
    There was another knock at the door, another guard, another delivery – this time Anna and the children. Jude flinched as she walked in, her pained eyes seeming to bore into him. She saw Peter and walked slowly towards him, faltering on her feet, the children in her arms. Ben immediately reached for Peter’s neck and Anna released her hold as Peter’s arms wrapped around him, around her, around Molly, like branches – a silent communication, a bond that inspired both awe and jealousy in Jude.
    ‘I’m so sorry,’ Peter said.
    ‘No,’ Anna said. ‘Don’t be. He should be the sorry one.’
    She turned towards Richard, who staggered forward. ‘The ring,’ he said to Derek. ‘You have the ring?’
    Derek nodded, taking it from Pip and handing it to Richard. ‘Here it is,’ he said.
    Richard took the ring and exhaled loudly, then closed his eyes for a second. ‘Yes,’ he breathed. ‘Yes.’ He stared at it, turning it over and over in his hands. ‘But where is the formula?’ He frowned, then shrugged and pressed a buzzer on his desk; two seconds later a scientist appeared at his door. ‘Here,’ Richard said, giving the ring to him. ‘The formula is on here. Find it. Use it. Reboot the system. Do it now.’
    The scientist nodded urgently, took the ring and left. Richard looked around grimly. ‘You’ve done well, Derek,’ he said. ‘Very well.’
    Derek smiled silkily.
    ‘How has he done well?’ Hillary asked suddenly. ‘Richard, will you please tell me what’s going on? What is this ring? Why are these people here, in your office?’
    ‘The ring?’ Richard laughed. ‘The ring is our answer, Hillary. We will be reborn.’
    ‘Reborn? What are you talking about?’ She looked piercingly at Richard, but he wasn’t listening – he had poured a large glass of water and drank it down in one before refilling it.
    There was another knock at the door and everyone swung round. It was the scientist. ‘Mr Pincent, sir,’ he said tentatively. ‘We’ve looked at the ring. Several of us. It doesn’t appear to have the formula on it, sir. Just the initials A.F. and a rudimentary engraving of a flower.’
    Richard looked at him angrily. ‘Look again,’ he barked. ‘The ring has the formula on it. I know it has.’
    ‘You know?’ Pip asked quietly. No one seemed to have heard him apart from Jude, who froze. There was something about his voice. Something different.
    ‘We have looked. We have scrutinised it,’ the scientist continued, his voice shaking slightly. ‘But there is nothing on it, Mr Pincent. Nothing that suggests a formula of any sort.’
    ‘Formula?’ Hillary asked. ‘What formula?’
    ‘Look again!’ Richard screamed, ignoring Hillary. ‘Look again and again and again! It’s there. I know it is.’
    ‘You know nothing, Richard.’ Again, Pip’s voice. Again, quiet, different. This time Richard heard. He looked at Pip curiously.
    ‘You,’ he said with distaste. ‘Pip. What sort of a name is