The Resistance

to change that. Do you understand?’
    Peter studied his grandfather’s face for a few seconds, trying to decide on a response.
    ‘Perfectly,’ he said eventually, looking at his grandfather intently. ‘And I don’t intend to cause you any concern. I’m just pleased to have the opportunity to work here, that’s all.’
    Richard’s eyes rested on him for a few seconds, then he nodded curtly.
    ‘Good,’ he said. ‘That’s very good.’
    He motioned for Peter to follow him out of the lecture hall, and they walked in silence back down the corridor.
    ‘I think it’s time to introduce you to Dr Edwards, your teacher,’ he said, when they reached a blue door. ‘You won’t find it hard – Pincents are born scientists . . .’ He lifted his hand to push the door; as Peter followed him through it, he found himself in the same laboratory he’d seen in the film. Only now the workstations were all empty.
    His grandfather noticed his frown and smiled. ‘We built new facilities on the east side of the building,’ he explained. ‘Bigger and better. This is the ReTraining area now. You can learn and try things out to your heart’s content. And this . . .’ he pointed to a tall, slight man who was walking towards them quickly, ‘is Dr Edwards, one of our most eminent scientists, and now the Head of ReTraining. For the next six months he will be your teacher and mentor, so I wouldn’t get into his bad books.’
    His grandfather’s tone was silky, almost patronising, but Dr Edwards didn’t seem to notice; he smiled modestly. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that, Peter,’ he said warmly. ‘It’s very good to meet you. Very good indeed. Your grandfather has told me all about you.’
    Peter looked at him carefully, building up a picture in his head. He took in the furrowed brow, the grey hair that Dr Edwards had evidently decided not to bother dyeing, his intelligent eyes, his open body language. He could pass for fifty, but Peter suspected that he was at least double that. He was clever, Peter surmised; introverted and passionate about his work.
    ‘Hi,’ Peter said. ‘Good to meet you, too.’
    ‘So, Peter, what’s your science like? Are you an expert, or is your knowledge more . . . rudimentary, would you say?’ Dr Edwards asked.
    Peter raised an eyebrow. ‘I’d say “rudimentary” just about covers it.’
    ‘Good.’ Dr Edwards nodded. ‘When people know a lot, we have to spend a great deal of time getting them to unlearn it,’ he explained. ‘Most of what people have been taught is years out of date, hardly relevant at all. A clean slate is far easier.’ His face was earnest, Peter decided, well meaning. If he weren’t involved in Longevity drugs, Peter might even have liked him.
    ‘Right, well, I’ll leave you to it, then,’ Richard Pincent said. ‘Peter, concentrate, won’t you? Dr Edwards has a great deal to teach you.’
    Peter nodded silently, his eyes following his grandfather until the door had closed behind him.
    ‘I’m sure you’ll be a fast learner,’ Dr Edwards smiled. ‘After all, it’s in your blood.’
    ‘Oh, I’m not much like my grandfather,’ Peter said lightly.
    ‘Your grandfather?’ Dr Edwards frowned. ‘Oh, no. I was thinking more about your great-grandfather. Albert Fern. The greatest scientist who ever lived.’
    Peter swallowed uncomfortably, then looked up at Dr Edwards, forcing an enthusiastic expression on to his face. ‘So, where do I start?’

Chapter Four
    Richard Pincent watched, hidden behind one-way glass, as the man was forced on to a bench-like contraption, his arms stretched out.
    ‘You don’t seem to understand,’ Derek Samuels, his Head of Security, was saying smoothly, his face creased in feigned sympathy, as though he cared, as though he didn’t enjoy it. ‘I don’t want to hurt you. It pains me to see you like this. But if you won’t tell me what I want to know, I have no choice. The other guards here, they enjoy causing pain. I won’t be able to stop them.’
    The man’s face contorted horribly as his arms were gradually pulled out of their sockets by the contraption he’d been connected to.
    ‘I’ll tell you nothing,’ he managed to say through clenched teeth. ‘You can’t do this. It’s illegal. The Authorities –’
    ‘The Authorities don’t care about you,’ Derek said soothingly. ‘You’re beyond the law; Pincent Pharma security guards are sanctioned by the Anti-Terrorism Department to use whatever means