The Resistance

law applies at Pincent Pharma?’ the guard asked. ‘We make the law, is what we do.’
    ‘I’ll tell the Authorities.’ Jude sat down, kicked his feet; he wanted the guard looking at him, nowhere else.
    ‘And they’ll pat us on the back for locking you up and keeping you out of mischief.’ The guard yawned and sat down on his chair, then looked over at Jude, his blank eyes appearing to look straight through him. ‘Now, shut up,’ he said quietly, ‘or I’ll make you shut up. Got that?’
    Jude nodded silently; he could hear the threat in the guard’s voice, knew that he wouldn’t need much of an excuse to drop the veneer of civility. He held his breath. Any minute now the air vent was going to fall, he knew it. His chest clenched as he waited for the minutes to tick silently by. One minute. Two minutes. Three minutes. And then, suddenly, the lights went out and they were plunged into darkness.
    ‘What the . . .’ the guard said, pulling out his walkie-talkie. ‘Hello? 245 here. Request information on blackout in Room 25 . . . What? It’s everywhere? . . . No, he’s here with me. Must be something else. How the . . . Right, I’ll check.’ Jude heard him stand up, walk towards the door and pull it. ‘It’s open,’ he said angrily. ‘Bloody nightmare . . . I’ll have to lock it using the override.’ He sighed, then opened the door again and felt around the bottom. ‘Be there in five minutes.’
    ‘Everything all right?’ Jude asked, doing his best to keep any note of triumph out of his voice.
    ‘Everything’s fine,’ the guard snapped. ‘Just an electrical fault. Lucky for you this door locks the old-fashioned way too. So whilst I’m required elsewhere, you’ll be nice and safe in here on your own. All right?’
    ‘You’re leaving me here on my own? But it’s dark,’ Jude said in feigned protest.
    The guard laughed, then he opened the door. ‘I’ll be back,’ he said. ‘Don’t have nightmares.’ He left, bolting the door behind him, and Jude heard him trying it several times to make sure it was firmly locked.
    He waited until the guard’s footsteps had disappeared down the corridor, then clambered up on the shelves again and reached towards the air vent. He saw it move too late; seconds later it clattered to the ground with a crash. Jude stayed stock-still for a minute, hardly daring to breathe, but no one seemed to have heard. Eventually, his heart beginning to slow, Jude hauled himself back up and started to crawl back along the ceiling.
    Curiously, Peter opened the envelope he’d been given; seconds later he was still staring at its contents, a mixture of elation and dismay that he didn’t entirely understand flooding through him.
    ‘It’s Anna’s Declaration,’ he gasped. ‘She’s signed it.’
    Dr Edwards, who had been discreetly occupying himself with something in the corner ever since the contretemps between Peter and his grandfather that morning, looked up.
    ‘She has?’
    Peter looked over at him blankly, waving the document in his hand. ‘She’s signed,’ he repeated. ‘I don’t understand. She said . . . I didn’t think she . . .’
    ‘So you’ve got what you wanted?’ Dr Edwards asked. ‘This is cause for celebration, surely?’
    ‘Yes,’ Peter said uncertainly. ‘I suppose it is.’
    ‘You don’t sound so sure.’
    Peter frowned. ‘I am. I mean, I’m just not sure why she signed.’
    ‘Perhaps she thought through the alternatives? Didn’t the guard say her message was that you were right?’
    Peter nodded vaguely. ‘I have to go and see her,’ he said suddenly. ‘I have to see her now.’
    ‘Of course,’ Dr Edwards said quickly. ‘Are you going to tell your grandfather?’
    Carefully returning Anna’s Declaration to the envelope and putting it in his pocket, Peter pulled off his lab overall and grabbed his coat. ‘You tell him if you want,’ he said, then grimaced when he saw Dr Edwards’ face fall. ‘I didn’t mean . . .’ he said quickly. ‘I just meant, you know, if you see him . . .’
    ‘I know,’ Dr Edwards said carefully. ‘But you should know I didn’t tell him. Before I mean, about you deciding to sign. It wasn’t me.’
    Peter nodded. ‘I know. At least, I guessed. It doesn’t matter anyway. Not any more.’
    ‘The next delivery is on its way? Marvellous. That’s marvellous, thank you, Eleanor. Pleasure doing business with you.’
    Sitting back on his chair, Richard turned to face the window rather