‘Your celephet,’ Doc Carter began again, speaking slowly, his fingertips tapping together. We sat facing one another. ‘Your celephet has made contact with the energy of a former inhabitant of Earth. Not with the person him or herself, that’s why there’s no need to be scared or upset. Just the energy of this unknown person who died a very long time ago. I’ll try and put it simply, Bree: Earth humans discovered a way of storing a part of their consciousness and after their deaths, this finite amount of consciousness could be awakened. For a while, anyway.’

‘Storing their consciousness? Where?’

‘Anywhere that had some emotional resonance for that person. Or in an object. We can’t know exactly where in this case. The Museum certainly has an emotional resonance for you, hasn’t it? Others must have felt the same way. This person did, whoever he or she was.’

I hadn’t the faintest idea what he was talking about but I tried to hang on as the explanation unrolled, bit by bit.

‘We guessed there might be an energy stored somewhere in the building, lying dormant. We picked up on certain irregular patterns in the atmosphere, if you like. We guessed that this energy could have useful information for us. You see the Museum – the National Museum of Wales as it was then – was the base of a resistance movement in the War for Earth. The scientists in this movement developed the dragomansk to its ultimate, deadliest form, the one we’re still battling against. Oh, both sides had been tinkering with its genetic make-up for years, but its final code, the one that encrypts itself upon death, was developed at the Museum. Of course, they left us no record of the true code. The resistance took that secret to their graves. Unless we know the code, we’ll never be able to destroy them and the dragomansk are the most serious barrier to our Great Quest and Purpose.’

He stopped, giving me time to digest what I’d heard.

‘Go on,’ I said.

‘Well, the celephet is my invention, as you know. It probes the atmosphere for these hidden energies. It’s been successful in latching on to this one, but that’s just the start. Now it can ask questions of the consciousness and it will keep on asking and asking, it won’t give up until it gets an answer.’

‘What’s the question?’ But I already knew.

‘It’s asking for the dragomansk’s genetic code, of course.’

‘Of course.’

Doc Carter leaned forward and skewered me with his startlingly blue eyes. ‘For a long time I wasn’t sure if the prototype for my invention would be ready for this mission but suddenly there was a breakthrough and, well, I persuaded the interDome Survey Panel to let me try it out. Never in my wildest dreams did I envisage it being so successful so quickly. I thought this was simply the beginning of a long, long process of trial and error, but these results are sensational. What you’ve just told me has completely blown me away. Footsteps! A real physical manifestation! You are a big part of this, Bree. We’re a great team.’

‘But you lied to me. Why couldn’t you have told me the truth about the celephet from the beginning, instead of spinning lies about oxygen absorption and all the rest of it? Was it all lies?’

‘With the best of motives.’

‘But it’s my head it’s attached to! I had a right to know even if you didn’t tell the others.’

Doc Carter waved his fingers, asking me to calm down. ‘Please understand, Bree. I couldn’t tell you. You’re an imaginative girl and you might have simply imagined a presence if I’d told you. You would have been on the lookout for it, consciously and subconsciously. This had to be a clinical trial. And I thought you might have been too scared to go through with it. I didn’t know you then, Bree. I didn’t realise what a brave and capable person you are. Now it’s obvious you can cope with it, so there’s no reason why you can’t be told the truth. And I had no idea you were going to get any physical manifestations. Those footsteps, I mean. I didn’t know anything quite that scary was going to happen. Not that there’s any danger.’

I didn’t like the way he kept denying the danger. How did he know? ‘So you’ve no idea whose energy it is?’

‘No. We’re just hoping that it is from the particular era we’re interested in; the war era, the end of the human occupation of Earth. The science that produced this phenomenon seems to date from that period. It’s not something that’s been experimented with before or since. Still, the celephet’s getting a strong reaction so I think we can be hopeful. We’ll get our answer soon, I’m sure.’

‘So all you want me to do is…’

‘What you’ve been doing, Bree. Carry on as normal. All you need do is be there and the celephet will do the rest. You’re a channel, that’s all, it won’t affect you. And it’s a bonus that you actually want to go to the Museum to write your poems. Which, I am sure, are absolutely wonderful, I can’t wait to see them.’ He beamed.

‘How will you know when you have the answer?’ I nodded at the screen.

‘Because when all the data’s been analysed, I’ll be able to animate the face you just saw and it will tell us where the records are hidden, if it knows. The celephet is very insistent. All this is going to take time. It’s just me working on it, you see. This is what you might call a “maverick” project and I have colleagues back at the SSO who doubt I’ll get very far with it, although I managed to persuade others. I had to really fight to get myself and my invention on to this mission. But we’re going to show them, aren’t we, Bree?’

His tone was low now, conspiratorial. I was beginning to appreciate why he hadn’t told me the truth. He couldn’t jeopardise a clinical trial, could he? It seemed to make sense.

‘You might not realise it but you, Bree Aurora, are the most valuable person on this mission. You are our biggest chance of cracking this problem so we can move on with our Great Quest and Purpose. I’m being serious.’

I laughed, nervously. ‘Me?’

‘Yes, you.’

‘You told us all the same lie, I suppose,’ I said, thinking aloud, trying to make everything all right again. ‘But it just so happened my celephet was the one that worked. Doc Carter, can I ask you something?’

‘Ask away.’

‘Why did I get chosen for this mission? My grades at school weren’t that brilliant, not like the others. Was it because I’m good at Empathy? I mean, that was the only reason I could think of myself.’

‘You’ve got it,’ he nodded emphatically. ‘Your empathetic talents. That’s why you got chosen, yes.’

I couldn’t help myself. ‘And Halley doesn’t know any of this, does he?’

‘What’s he said?’ The doctor’s eyes narrowed a fraction.

‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘Nothing.’ It was best not to go there. Perhaps Halley knew and perhaps he didn’t. I guessed Doc Carter probably had told him the bare minimum if, as seemed likely, he’d ordered Halley to chaperone me, to look after me while I was at the Museum. Halley’s odd behaviour made sense now. He’d felt guilty at having to keep secrets from me. A lot was beginning to fall into place but that wasn’t a bad feeling and I didn’t want to blame Halley.

‘So those nightmares—?’

‘Yes.’ He nodded. ‘The nightmares were just the celephet tuning in, if you like, preparing its host. You, I mean. The celephet has to be attached to a human to work and, well, not any old human either. You’ve done well, Bree. I’m really proud of you.’

All these compliments. It did seem like some kind of vindication. Never again would I be bothered by Robeen’s snide remarks, now I knew how much I deserved my place on board the mission. Yet there was something still bothering me.

‘That face,’ I said, pointing at the screen although the face wasn’t there now.

‘Brilliant.’ Doc Carter shook his head in disbelief. ‘Just brilliant.’

‘But it looked as though it was insuch pain.’

‘It’s just an energy, Bree. It’s merely the residue of a person who was alive hundreds of years ago. It can’t feel pain, not as we know pain.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘Sure I’m sure. Don’t worry about it.’

I nodded. I wanted desperately to believe what he was saying because after all the weeks and months of worry it was such a relief to be absolutely certain why I was on the mission, to know beyond all doubt that I deserved my place.

‘I’d sooner you didn’t talk to Halley about this,’ he added.

Sensing there was no point in trying to plead Halley’s case, I simply nodded.

‘And that’s what he told you?’

‘Yes.’

Halley and I were on the fourth floor in a small, unused room where we knew we wouldn’t be disturbed. Even so, we kept our voices low. I’d given Doc Carter my word I wouldn’t discuss what he’d told me with anyone else, but I couldn’t not share it with Halley.

‘How do you feel?’ He looked concerned. He seemed to have forgotten his own situation and was thinking about me.

‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘It’s hard to take it on board, that this thing on the back of my head…’ When I touched the celephet now it was with a new, grim respect. ‘…is communicating with a dead person. You should have seen its face. Urgh, I don’t want to think about it.’ Yet the more I tried to shut it out of my memory, the more I kept seeing the strange face with its tiny screwed up eyes and silently screaming mouth.

‘It’s pretty freakish, put that way.’

‘There’s one thing I am glad about.’ I returned to the window, where Halley stood looking out at the wasteland and rested my head on his shoulder. It had stopped raining. ‘I thought … I don’t know what I thought really, but I imagined it was something worse and that you were involved – you know, against me. I’m sorry, Halley. I understand why you couldn’t tell me anything. You must have hated that. No wonder you behaved a bit weirdly at times. Weirdly even for you.’

Halley shrugged his other shoulder, not looking at me.

‘But I feel better now. At last I know what this has all been about and guess what? I was right in the first place. I was chosen because of my skills in Empathy. Doc Carter told me so. I’ve been thinking about it and maybe it’s helped the celephet work, who knows?’

‘Good old Doc Carter,’ said Halley. ‘Why doesn’t he go to the Museum himself instead of dragging the rest of us into it?’

‘Don’t be like that.’ I shook his arm. ‘Apparently the data has to be collected some distance away or there’s some kind of feedback and the celephet stops working.’

‘Told you quite a lot, didn’t he?’ Halley sighed.

We watched a huge metamansk flying in a great arc from the north-west. It met up with a smaller formation which had been circling the marsh and it looked as though the two groups were about to crash into each other. Instead they filtered into one with immaculately timed and breathtaking choreography. After swirling around in an ever tightening vortex, off they went again in one massive group, flying in their bewildering up and down and side to side motion, flying into the sweet pink sunset which made me feel a little homesick.

‘Are you listening to me?’ I said. ‘Honestly, I don’t blame you for anything. I know why I’m here and it’s fine. More than that, I’m relieved. Just be a good boy for a few days and Doc Carter’s bound to let us pair up again. I’m sure I can persuade him.’

‘If anyone can, you can,’ muttered Halley.

Now I knew how vital I was to Doc Carter’s plans, I thought I probably could talk him round. He’d told me I was the most vital part of the mission and that lit me up inside. Me, the most valuable member; this is what I’d been waiting to hear my whole life. I shook Halley’s arm again, craving his attention.

‘The last person I want escorting me is Robeen. I mean, she can say what she likes to me now, I don’t give a damn, but she chills my blood worse than any ghost. That’s what these energies were called on Earth once upon a time. Ghosts.’

I caught a flicker of a smile on Halley’s lips. Yes, in a few short days we would be back together again. We were a team.

Robeen surprised me, she was acting so pleasantly all of a sudden. If the days she’d spent as Nisien’s dogsbody had been as much of a slog as I imagined, a ride out to the Museum with me must have seemed a real treat. She actually smiled at me as I started up the amphibical the next day – at least she did that corner of the mouth stretching thing. I returned the smile briefly. It felt good to be in the driving seat; Robeen was coming with me rather than the other way around.

We didn’t say much on the journey. We were forced to take cover twice due to dragomansk alerts and as we waited for the coast to clear, the silence hung between us oppressively. I wondered whether to suggest the usual detour via the canals or not. They had been such a very special place for Halley and me. Of course, we wouldn’t be able to remove the roof, let alone our hoods and visors, Robeen being such a stickler for the rules, but after the previous day, I didn’t fancy taking risks. In the end, my desire to visit the canals won out over loyalty to Halley and I suppose I also liked being the one introducing her to the place.

‘Want to see something great?’ I asked.

‘All right.’ She glanced at me, still a little aloof.

When we arrived at the canals, Robeen’s jaw dropped. This bright little world was so very different from the bleak rubble-and-marsh landscape she was used to. ‘It’s so beautiful,’ she said. ‘I can hardly believe it!’ I could see that she meant it.

I took her to all the best places, acting like a tour guide. We went frog spotting and birdwatching. Halley and I had discovered that if we sat very still for a good long time, we could catch sight of the creatures we could hear twittering and calling in the far-off branches. I avoided the exit where Halley had tempted the dragomansk, scared of coming across its twisted remains and having to explain what had happened. There were plenty of other places to go.

‘Each root system is like its own little world.’ Robeen spoke almost to herself, as though she still wasn’t quite willing to acknowledge me properly, even after I’d taken the trouble to show her all the best bits. Maybe she just didn’t like to admit that I was the one in charge.

‘That’s exactly what we’ve always said, Halley and me.’ I wasn’t about to let myself be sidelined again. ‘We’d better be off, we should be at the Museum by now.’ I reversed quickly up the cul-de-sac where we’d spent twenty minutes counting the different kinds of butterflies. We’d got up to eight, possibly nine. From the corner of my eye I saw the green shadows flit across Robeen’s disappointed face. I knew she would have liked to spend more time there.

When we got to the Museum I let her wander around and marvel at the statues in the hall, but then a problem occurred to me. ‘Do you know what it is I do here?’ I chanced. She was studying the white marble woman who looked so miserable, the one I’d compared to Robeen to make Halley laugh on several occasions.

‘No.’ She turned to me with such a blank expression that even in the dim light, I knew she was telling the truth. Robeen knew nothing of what was really going on with the celephet, I was certain. The only reason she was there was because Doc Carter didn’t want me to be completely alone.

‘I write poems through there.’ I pointed at the doorway through to the Origins of Earth. ‘It’s my project. What did you intend doing?’ I didn’t want her trailing after me and guessed Doc Carter wouldn’t want it either. Being in a creative state to write my poems might somehow be assisting the celephet and Robeen’s presence would only cramp that creativity. It wasn’t just me being nasty.

‘Don’t worry about me,’ she said. I knew I’d offended her. It didn’t take much.

‘There’s plenty to explore,’ I said. ‘If you liked the canals there’s a lot of old natural history exhibits down that end. They’re a bit jumbled up. You could even come up with a project of your own. I’m sure it’s not too late. You could write a proposal quickly and hand it in?’

‘As if anyone would be remotely interested,’ she muttered as she walked away into the gloom, much as Halley had done on that first day. I couldn’t help but feel a shade sorry for her. So far, the mission had been a massive let-down for poor, brilliant Robeen. Oh well, we couldn’t all be the most valuable member of the mission, could we?

I was at a crucial stage in my poem and I was also determined that whatever happened, however angry the footsteps got, however many doors banged or however many times it ran at me, I would stand my ground and let the celephet do its work. I wasn’t going to allow myself to get scared. In the cold, hard light of day there was nothing to be scared of; like Doc Carter said, the energy couldn’t hurt me. I felt like a real pioneer, perhaps the first Pioneer School had ever truly produced. I, Bree Aurora, was at the very cutting edge of exploration, a vital facilitator to our Great Quest and Purpose. I felt important.

Try as I might, I couldn’t completely shake off my nerves entering the fossil room again. It seemed even darker and even bigger. The ceiling was so high it might not have been there. I steeled myself. No matter what happened, I would carry on with my brilliant poem and let the celephet do the rest; the celephet that was at that very moment firing its question out into the unknown without my feeling a thing.

In a gesture of defiance, I decided to position myself right slap in the centre of the room. On previous days I’d sorted the creamy coloured limestone fossils of crinoids, the floaty, feathery, stalk-like creatures which once dwelt in the shallow seas when Wales was further south on the planet’s surface. These fossils fascinated me, because the animals looked so little like animals and because they still appeared to be in motion, waving their thin, fine tentacles to trap food particles and scoop them into their flower-head mouths. I wanted to capture the sensation of what it must have been like to swim amongst them. With our exploration of the real Earth limited by the dragomansk, this was the next best thing. My ambition for my Museum poems was, I suppose, to communicate to people on Mars a little of what Earth had been like, its spectacular diversity, its beautiful messiness.

Some of the limestone slabs were quite large but they were also fairly thin and I was able to carry them with care. I laid them flat, arranging them in a circle like a giant Celtic torc. I’d have been too embarrassed to go to all that trouble if anyone else had been with me but on my own in the dark, I could do pretty much as I liked. Once the fossils were as I wanted them, I sat in the middle and set my tilelight to its dimmest setting. I swept the soft light over the fossils, imagining the light as rippling water, imagining what the crinoids would have been like all those millions of years ago. Transfixed by their beauty, I soon became lost in the picture in my imagination:

Water from the melting poles

Warmed into life by the sun…

I forgot where I was. I was back in the primordial reef, swimming amongst the crinoids long before humans. This is what it’s like when you’re completely taken over: the words are gifted to you and you know when the words are right.

The footsteps began in the next room, pacing this way, pacing that, just on the other side of the wall. This time I made a deliberate effort not to pay too much attention to them, to allow the celephet to do its job. It would get on with its work and I would get on with mine.

When the door banged open, I jumped, but I willed myself to breathe, to calm down and I just about managed to refocus. I told myself, I’m sitting in the middle of a near circle. A circle’s a powerful shape. I’m surrounded by the fossils I love. My crinoid circle will protect me.

I felt protected.

…Stirred into life by currents,

Swept into life by the tides…

The footsteps began to circle slowly, outside the protective fossil wall. I kept my eyes on my tile and carried on writing. The steps were so crisp, exactly as though they belonged to a real, physical presence just out of view. Now they were behind me, now they were walking round one side, and now they were in front again. Yet, if I looked up I knew there would be nothing there. One moment they were circling in a clockwise direction, the next they changed to counter-clockwise. Maybe I was right, maybe the ring of crinoids did offer me some symbolic protection from whoever this energy had once belonged to. It was dead, absolutely dead now. There was nothing to fear, there really was nothing to fear. I kept telling myself this even as the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck started to rise.

The footsteps stopped but I sensed that it hadn’t left this time. I could have sworn that a real human presence was standing in front of me and the reason I knew it was because – oh. Oh. I could hear breathing again. It wasn’t my imagination and I couldn’t pretend it was; I really could hear breathing right there in front of me, somewhere in the dark. Quick, angry breaths. I couldn’t concentrate on the words on my tile now, but I wasn’t about to look at whoever was standing there, if anyone was. It was my turn to shut my eyes.

The breathing was right in my face. The energy had entered the circle and I wasn’t staying still because I’d decided to stay still. I was so absolutely terrified I could not move. I squeezed my eyes even more tightly shut. I knew that if I looked up, I would see something. Something I’d never forget. The icy cold breath was blowing aggressively into my face. Whoever it was was so close now.

The breath blasted me with a roar.

‘GO AWAY!’

I opened my eyes. I wished I hadn’t, even though the face I saw hung in the air a mere fraction of a second. It was the same face as the one on Doc Carter’s holoscreen, the same agonised expression, but now it was in colour. The strange eyes, such alien eyes were open this time, staring out of their sockets, and the horrible open mouth was like a bloody gash, the lips pulling back from the teeth. It was there and it was gone, along with the breath and all sense of another presence. It didn’t melt away: one moment it was there and the next it wasn’t.

A voice began to scream and it took me a little while before I realised that it was me screaming. I had to hold my shaking hand over my mouth to stifle the noise. I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t get up; I sat trembling violently in the middle of the stone circle that wouldn’t protect me from anything. My belief in it had been ridiculous.

Doc Carter had said the energy couldn’t harm me but it had: it had broken my sense of safety, probably forever. Now I knew such agony existed, how could I feel another moment’s peace again?

I only vaguely remember Robeen picking me up and asking me questions I couldn’t answer, then leading me from the room.