The Power of Five Oblivion

He’s an outsider. He’s not popular. From what we know, when the others went travelling to the UK and then to Hong Kong, he got left behind. They didn’t want him. We can play on that. We can do anything, actually, but we want him on our side.”
    “And then?” Jonas turned the memory stick in his fingers. It was strange that he might be seeing his mother again soon in the video files.
    “We can use him to get Matthew Freeman,” the chairman replied. “That’s what this is all about. It’s like I said when we were in the conference room. Matthew Freeman did the impossible and hurt the King of the Old Ones in the Nazca Desert. For that he has to pay. There is an infinity of pain coming his way, Jonas, and it’s your job to arrange it. You finish your mother’s work and you make Scott one of ours. Scott draws Matt into a trap. And you get your reward.”
    “You mean … I end up getting adjusted too?”
    The chairman smiled. His skin barely moved but it was there in his eyes. “It could come to that, Jonas. Let’s face it. We’re heading towards the end of the world as we know it. How many hundreds of thousands of people do you think have taken their last breath while you and I have been having this conversation in this nice office with this pleasant glass of wine? That’s how it always was, even before the Old Ones arrived. You can’t think too much about these things because there’s nothing you can do – so why bother? If I were you, I’d take the same attitude to your future. Do as you’re told and don’t worry too much about what’s going to happen. Because one thing is sure, if you fail in this, you’ll be adjusted before you have time to blink!”
    “I won’t fail, sir.”
    “I know that. It’s why you’ve been chosen.” The chairman finished his drink. “There’s a plane waiting to take you to Italy. Let me know when Scott is ready and I’ll tell you what happens next.”
    “Thank you, sir. Thank you for this opportunity.”
    “You deserve it, Jonas. Enjoy it.”

    A few hours later, in the air above New York, Jonas Mortlake saw his mother again. Her face filled the computer screen which rested on the table in front of him.
    He had always thought there was something deeply unattractive about her. She looked more like a man than a woman with her hair cut so short – and with those thin shoulders and long neck. As always, she was dressed in black, a trouser suit that didn’t flatter her at all. She’d never worn make-up or very much jewellery. Her face was so washed out that had this been a black-and-white film, it wouldn’t have made any difference.
    It was the boy who was with her who fascinated Jonas. He was lying on a bed being fed by some sort of saline drip connected to his arm. He was wearing dark trousers and a black shirt that had been torn open to expose his chest. His feet were bare. He looked dazed as whatever drug was being pumped into him took effect. This was Scott Tyler ten years ago … although, of course, he would be exactly the same now after his little jump in time. He was a very handsome boy, Jonas thought, with that long, dark hair, sculptured features, Native American eyes. Fifteen years old but he had already packed so much into that young life. Jonas had read about his so-called uncle, a man called Don White who wasn’t actually related to him at all. He had exploited the boy’s ability and put him on the stage in Reno, Nevada. Scott had never had much education. He hadn’t really had much of a life.
    “It’s always the good people who get pushed around,” Susan Mortlake was saying on the screen. How long had it been since he had heard her voice? “The little people. Do you want to be a little person, Scott, or do you want to be with me? Because, you see, in the world that’s coming, I’m going to be in charge, and you’re going to have to start asking yourself: Which end of the whip do you want to be?”
    The camera moved closer and Jonas froze the image. Scott seemed very close now. He reached out and ran a finger down the boy’s chest. It felt good. He was going to enjoy this assignment. Whatever happened to him in the future, it would be worth it.
    The plane soared over the clouds, carrying him east to Europe and towards the blood red sun.

BLOOD AND SAND

ELEVEN
    Scarlett Adams hovered between three different worlds.
    The first of them, she knew, was the real one – and she spent as little time there as she could. It was a world