The Resistance

their uses, some of them. But yes, overall, they are a drain. Richard, why am I here? I want to see the drugs, not these girls.’
    ‘You are here because the Authorities must sanction the means as well as the end,’ Richard said smoothly. ‘Sanction and protect our production lines from prying eyes, from questions, from people who don’t understand science, who don’t realise that every move forward in science requires a . . . a freedom not afforded all disciplines.’
    ‘Freedom? What do you mean?’ Hillary asked.
    ‘What if I was to tell you that Surpluses were the key to the health and wellbeing of mankind?’ Richard said. ‘What if I was to tell you that Surpluses are not a burden, but our saviours? That they are, in fact, not Surpluses at all, but Valuable Assets?’
    Peter strained to listen, scanning the room for a closer hiding place.
    ‘Our saviours? Richard, what are you talking about?’
    ‘We have been so short-sighted, Hillary. We have been viewing Surpluses all wrong – as a burden, as something to be avoided, destroyed, managed. But they’re not a burden. They are our future. Their eggs, their sperm, their organs, their wombs . . . all more valuable than any other natural resource,’ Richard said softly, turning to look at the girls in the beds. As he did so, Peter made a dash for the bench in the centre of the room and crouched down, all his reflexes on full alert.
    ‘Wombs?’ Hillary said uncertainly. ‘What’s so great about their wombs? Richard, you are making no sense. Fertility is a weakness. Creating new life is a sin.’
    Peter’s grandfather licked his lips and gestured towards the row of beds.
    ‘Think of them as incubators. Incubators that can grow state-of-the-art embryonic stem cells,’ he said reverently.
    ‘Embryonic? You mean . . .’
    ‘I mean, embryos. Ten at a time. We’re hoping to get up to twelve today. Eventually the sky’s the limit.’
    ‘And you’re making them? Here?’ Hillary gasped.
    ‘It’s not that radical, Hillary. Remember IVF, or was that before your time? You take an egg, you fertilise it, you put it in the womb. Only we do four, five, ten, twenty. We let them take hold, let them grow, then we harvest them – and the cells, Hillary, the cells can do anything. Take a precursor stem cell and subject it to the Longevity formula, and the results are . . . well, they’re beautiful. Astounding. Revolutionary. Two weeks is all it takes, Hillary. Two weeks from fertilisation.’
    Hillary looked up at him in wonderment.
    ‘But the supply,’ she said, her forehead wrinkled in concentration. ‘The supply’s not high enough. Not to supply the country, let alone the world. There aren’t enough Surpluses. It’s not sustainable.’
    Peter’s grandfather laughed. ‘Of course it’s sustainable. We just have to make sure we control the supply.’
    ‘But how? There’s no guarantee . . .’
    ‘No guarantee?’ Peter’s grandfather smiled, and shook his head. Then he lowered his voice. ‘You and the Authorities know full well that Surpluses have been used for new ingredients for years – blood donation, bone marrow, stem cells. We’ve always needed a certain level of supply of Surpluses for medical research, and certain departments within the Authorities have been most . . . sympathetic. But until now, it’s been low level – a few faulty birth-control implants here and there ensured an adequate supply. All I’m saying now is that we need to crank it up. We need more young flesh, more Valuable Assets. Officially.’
    Peter felt himself go numb as he remembered the comings and goings of strange doctors at Grange Hall, always at night-time, always in Solitary, the underground cells used for punishment, and it was all he could do to breathe in and out. There was nothing pure about Longevity.
    ‘The Authorities . . . you mean, we sanctioned the creation of Surpluses?’ Hillary’s mouth was open in shock.
    ‘You didn’t know?’ Peter’s grandfather asked, his tone surprised. ‘I thought you’d read Adrian’s notes. He gave us special dispensation. And now we need to plant more. We need large numbers. Surplus farms. They are our lifeblood, Hillary. The potential is unending.’
    Hillary couldn’t seem to take her eyes off the girls. ‘There are channels, Richard. You’d be breaking protocols and regulations . . .’
    ‘Protocols and regulations that will be swept aside when people understand what the drugs can do. Protocols and