The Resistance

not the only ones who are pregnant.’
    ‘You mean there are more?’ Peter said bitterly.
    ‘Not the Surpluses,’ Dr Edwards whispered. ‘Anna. Your notes,’ he said, turning to Anna. ‘You’re pregnant, Anna. And according to this file, they want to . . . They . . .’ Dr Edwards couldn’t bring himself to repeat what he’d read, the abbreviations he knew all too well, abbreviations that he’d pushed from his mind for years.
    Peter looked at Dr Edwards uncertainly. ‘She’s pregnant? Anna’s pregnant?’
    ‘But the Surplus Sterilisation programme,’ Anna said, her voice several octaves higher than usual. ‘I can’t be. I . . .’
    ‘It didn’t exist,’ Peter said, grabbing her and holding her tight. ‘It never got ratified. My grandfather . . . he left that file for me on purpose. He sent me a note, one that looked like it was from the Underground, just so that I’d find it, the programme file. But it was never passed. He just wanted me to sign, that’s all.’
    ‘So I’m pregnant? I’m really pregnant?’ Anna gasped.
    ‘Yes, Anna. You’re going to have a baby.’
    A huge smile filled Anna’s pale face, brought to life her worried eyes. Peter suddenly pulled away and stared at her in disbelief, in horror.
    ‘And I was going to . . . I got you to . . .’ Frantically, he reached into his back pocket and took out a large piece of paper, ripping it up into as many pieces as he could, before throwing them on the ground. ‘Your Declaration,’ he said, taking Anna in his arms again and burying his head in her neck. ‘You signed it because of me. And I’ll never forgive myself. But it’s gone now.’ He kissed her. ‘I’ve been so stupid. So completely stupid.’
    ‘Not stupid,’ Dr Edward said quietly, looking at the guard’s slumped body. ‘Sometimes we trust when we shouldn’t. Your grandfather is a very wicked man, Peter. He needs to be stopped. Whatever it takes.’
    ‘I’m going to do more than that,’ Peter said fiercely. ‘I’m going to destroy him.’

Chapter Thirty-One
    Following Peter’s directions, Pip edged along the side of the wall of the great warehouse-like rooms, stealthily, silently. His guard’s uniform had enabled him to pass easily through the building and up the stairs to the sixth floor; he knew that from his vantage point above the Security Centre, Jude would be watching his progress silently as he flicked from camera to camera.
    There were voices, suddenly, and Pip hung back in the shadows as two men passed, talking in low voices.
    ‘It doesn’t matter anyway. From tomorrow, this will all be official.’
    ‘You trust that Authorities woman?’
    ‘It’s not a matter of trust. She can’t afford not to approve us. The revenue generation will be huge. Jobs, energy, everyone’s wellbeing – it’s a no-brainer. Stop worrying.’
    ‘I’m not worrying.’
    They didn’t see Pip; they walked straight past him, out of the door and down the stairs. Carefully, Pip inched forwards towards the door from which they’d emerged, trusting, hoping that Jude was in place, that he was watching, that he was ready. Then, tentatively, he opened it just a fraction, immediately blinking against the bright lights. There were two nurses in the room, sitting in the corner at a table, chatting. Otherwise the room was in silence. Next to the door was an intercom phone and two light switches; silently, Pip looked up at the camera, nodded. His trust in Jude was rewarded seconds later when the lights suddenly went out, and Pip slipped through the door.
    Immediately he heard the sound of footsteps rushing over.
    ‘The blackout’s spreading,’ a nurse said anxiously.
    ‘Hello? Hello? Oh, for God’s sake, the intercom’s gone dead.’
    ‘What do we do?’
    ‘We’d better let them know downstairs.’
    Pip moved quickly in the dark and grabbed the nurse nearest the door. She screamed. ‘Up against the wall,’ he barked.
    ‘What? Who’s there? Who said that?’
    ‘I’ve got a gun. I want you up against the wall, all of you.’
    He heard yelps and scrambling, then took out a torch, shining it around the room, assuring himself that no one was hiding from him. ‘Turn around,’ he ordered. ‘Arms above your heads.’
    ‘But the guards . . . The guards will be here in minutes. Are you mad? You can’t just walk in here and . . .’
    ‘I can do what I like,’ he said, through gritted teeth.
    Pip picked up a towel and ordered a nurse to gag the doctor who was