The trigger was pulled and time after time the chamber reloaded and recoiled as it expelled its red hot projectiles. Each one wound its way down the barrel, twisting faster and faster as it neared the eventual exit. On either side its siblings were engaged in the same procedure of loading and firing, monotonously showering their target with identical bullets.

Glass shattered, spraying both the inside of the house, and the ground outside with sharp shiny shards of serrated silicon. Each piece reflected the action taking place above it, like a tiny television sets replaying a movie.

The attackers ceased their onslaught and the air was once again deathly silent. The window to the house was now non-existent and Edward flipped the switch to bathe the front of the house in light. The intention was of course to illuminate any potentially dangerous targets so they could be eliminated before they could do any damage.

As Edward looked to his side, he saw one of his companions standing stock still about five metres from the house and five metres from the truck they had arrived in. He hadn’t even noticed his colleague moving.

The soldier stood there, arm bent at right angles, holding on to something tightly, on his face a look of both fear and resolution. His nostrils were flaring with his breathing and his lungs were heaving heavily. He had not run far, but it had been enough to kick his organs into motion. Now he stood there, paralysed in petrification.

The object in his hand was not particularly heavy. It was cylindrical and bore the marking X-45 on the side. If anyone had been staring at it hard enough they would have been able to make out the letters MISOMAIKO on the bottom, a clear indication of its place of origin. The pin sitting majestically atop the device splintered light in all directions, almost amplifying it.

His eyes rolled to the left and right, scoping out his options, trying to take in all that surrounded him. There was no way out, but he wasn’t about to back down now. This was an event that had to happen at some point. Someone had to show him who was the boss.

His body armour expanded and compressed minimally as he continued breathing hard. He almost felt as though it was the armour that was keeping him together inside. If not for the armour, personifying his strength and current disposition, he was sure he would have collapsed to the floor. He was weak. Damn this. He blinked twice and swallowed hard.

The single figure standing to his left continued to hold the gun to his head. He smiled slyly as his victim squirmed. He seemed to be losing his composure. What right did this weasel have to question his authority. None.

The hostage gripped the tazer-grenade tighter and his face suddenly became stone-like, resolute. The petrification seemed to leave him and all at once he took a step forward and pulled his arm back, ready to hurl the grenade in through the now open window.

Open was really the wrong word for it, as it was smashed to smithereens. Shards of glass lay on both sides of the opening as the two figures stood locked in a battle of the mind.

“First we negotiate, understand?” snarled the man with the gun. He picked up the megaphone and spoke into it deliberately. “It’s no use, we have the building completely surrounded. Give yourselves up, and release your hostages.” He lowered the megaphone, removing his finger from the button.

“Let me take them out.” said his hostage slowly, purposefully, his gaze never once leaving the window and his arm still raised high. His plan was simple, toss a tazer-grenade into the room, take down whoever was in there, and sort the good from the bad later. Sure it was a decent enough plan, but it wasn’t the way Nate operated. Things should be done his way, on his terms. Negotiation was always an option.

Through the whine of the traffic on the streets close by a voice could be heard from inside. It was muffled to begin with, and Edward had to adjust his hearing to tune in to the man’s voice. He sounded annoyed, like they had just intruded on his day. “I’m a G-TEP agent, and I’ve cornered a temporal suspect in this building. I require you all to leave right now.”

Nate looked over at Edward. It was plausible, but he required confirmation. Blat still stood there, still ready to unleash his weapon into the room. His muscles twitched and as their chief was considering his next move, Blat took one step closer.

The gun was pushed into his temple, this time from the opposing side. Nate’s second in command had come to back up his superior. Blat now stood there, a standard issue handgun to each side of his head.

Comfortable that Blat was under some form of control, Nate turned his attention back to the situation developing through the open window. He pressed the button on the megaphone once more, hoping that this time he would be able to make a a decision as to his next course of action. He chuckled.

“Sure you have little man. Give us the mission id and we’ll corroborate your story with G-TEP HQ.” He lowered his arm once again. Edward looked over towards Blat, this was most definitely not how this mission had been supposed to pan out. Just where had it gone wrong.

* * *

Their pathway through the other traffic on the roads made his stomach churn slightly. Like a snake through a desert, they slithered between cars, other trucks, and pedestrians. He had to hand it to the driver, who was humming some obnoxious tune whilst tapping away on the steering column. The concentration on his face was intense, as if somehow focussed by his tuneful endeavour.

The young officer looked out of the window of the trunk. The sun was beginning its descent now, but still high enough to provide stark shadows which played happily on the asphalt. The shadows covered each obstacle in their path like a silk sheet, caressing it with a delicate intangible touch.

The truck zipped past a lady, pushing a baby in a pram, the figures blurred by the speed of the vehicle. Edward’s thoughts turned to that of his family. His daughter, a mere two years old, would most likely still be asleep. He checked his watch. Two thirty, just about the right time for a nap he concluded. The sun suddenly glinted off the watch’s surface and glared at him rudely as their ride turned a rather steep corner. His thoughts were roused by a gruff voice to his left.

“Now when we get there, I don’t want any heroics, understand?” The man paused to crack the knuckles on his left hand. “We play this strictly by the book.” Several of the other occupants of the truck sat there facing the floor.

Obviously enraged by their lack of respect, their leader spoke again. “Are you listening to me?” Several grunted, one replied with an audible word. “This is to be executed as if it were a drill, not the shabby mistake of a mess you managed to pull of last week.”

Edward’s unit had mobilised in less than three minutes, a veritable record in his eyes. He couldn’t quite understand what the chief had to be so angry about, but then the chief was always angry. He never partook in the missions, he never actually put himself in any real danger, yet he still managed to find fault in just about everything else that the unit did.

Edward had recently been transferred to the precinct after a dispute between himself and his former commander in chief, but the situation had been resolved to his liking. He had been looking for a change for a while, and this seemed to be it.

“Do I make my self clear?” shouted the burly man. The unit replied, as if singing in a concert, “Yes Sir.”

“When we arrive, I want Ed and Blat to take the right side. Karmin? You’re with me on the left, and Flex will take up the rear.” The author of the new voice was the second in command. He obviously felt the need to prove himself to the chief. Edward turned to his superior.

Light was streaming in from behind the man’s head and almost gave him an angelic halo. A sign? Probably not. Edward opened his mouth and spoke, “Just who are we dealing with here?” he asked.

Chito, the second in command, looked over at him. “At this moment, we’re not sure. The report simply stated that a figure carrying what appeared to be an assault rifle entered a residential area and proceeded to kick in the door of a neighbour.”

Blat interjected, “An assault rifle?” He sounded rather surprised and massaged his forehead with his two forefingers and thumb. “What kind of assault rifle? Should we be looking at AG rounds? I mean what the…..”

He was cut short by Chito. “How the heck is an eighty year old woman going to know the difference between an ASIC-45 and a Pretrum A48?” Blat grimaced, the question was valid. “Just zip it and stay focussed.”

“Just what are we authorised to do?” asked Edward. “Are we going in guns blazing, or negotiating?”

“Good question, Ed” replied Chito, “And I’m glad you asked.” He had been sitting hunched for the last portion of the conversation, and now he relaxed his legs and leaned backwards, exhaling slightly as did so. His face shone unusually, a shade of pale mocha reserved for only the locals of some distant region.

“We’ve been asked to handle this one,” he paused, “diplomatically.” He smiled, turning his head to look at Karmin. “We certainly don’t want another Chesterfield today, ain’t that right chief?”

The chief nodded, but gruffly grunted, almost in acceptance of his subordinates words, but somehow reserving judgement on his genuineness. “You are correct,” he said simply. “You men have no idea the hot water I was simmered in last week over that fiasco.”

In an instant, the truck was silent again. It left Edward feeling more than a little uneasy. He couldn’t quite judge the side of the line each member of the vehicle sat on. Were they onside with the Chief? Or against him. It was no surprise that many of the force were unhappy with his methods.

Chief Nate Beurgen had also been the victim of a transfer, but unlike Edward, his had not been so amicable. His previous unit had disbanded him during a crucial mission, and though the cause was never fully known, many speculated that it was due to a lack of respect and harsh treatment that he allegedly bestowed upon his fellow men.

The truck lurched to a stop and a squeal from the brakes indicated that their destination had been reached.

“We’re here Chief,” said the driver.

“All right men,” bellowed Nate, “Let’s get this done.” He was the first to rise, adjusting his body armour and crouching forward, opened the doors to the back of the trunk, jumping down as he did so. Chito was quick to follow, opening the other side of the orifice.

The next few moments were filled with sounds of rifles clicking as magazines were checked once, twice, cocked and readied. Clips were fastened and checks were audibly made. Edward looked down the sight of his rifle. It wasn’t badly set up at all, he wished he could have brought his personal, Arsham AA34, but time hadn’t been kind enough to allow that. Now he was stuck with a standard issue. Cute, but effective.

The other members of the truck filed out, picking up their weapons from one of two team members on either side of the truck. In a brief moment they were all armed, ready and waiting for what lay ahead.

As if by magic, a door some way in front of them opened, and a little old lady came doddering out. She made her way across the road to where the truck was parked and was met by Nate and Chito.

“You got my call I gather?” said the old woman bossily. “Now, I suggest that two of you go around the back, and the others fan out in front, in a sort of moon shape.”

Nate held up his hand to the old woman. “If it’s all he same to you ma’am, we’ll use the methods we have been using to good effect for years.

* * *

They had been waiting for the confirmation code for several minutes now and Edward was sure Blat was going to explode forth at any moment. Sure it would most likely result in his certain death, but Edward had realised that Blat obviously had some unresolved issues with Nate.

“Thirty more seconds and I’m letting this baby go,” said the officer with the grenade. “I ain’t letting another get lose.” The sweat on his face was trickling now and Edward could see it beginning to collect around his collar and on his body armour. As if in response to his statement, the same voice they had heard earlier began shouting out the confirmation code.

“Alpha X-ray 4485233 Romeo Pappa 7”

Nate turned to Edward, “Check it,” he said before shouting into the megaphone, “Please give us a moment to verify.”

Whilst Edward paced up and down with his cell phone, Chito began pushing the barrel of the pistol harder and harder into the temple of Blat’s head. He started twisting it, intimidating his victim.

“You realise B, if this call is authenticated, you in big trouble little man.” Chito’s voice was chilling and a part of Blat wanted to give up there and then, but the stage was now set.

“Thank-you,” said Edward, hanging up the phone. “It’s confirmed Sir.”

Nate nodded and throwing his voice inside the room one more time added, “OK, Echo Lima, you are confirmed. Please give us your orders.”

“Please withdraw from the area, I require no further assistance,” came the voice from inside.

“You heard the man,” said Chito, “It’s over Blat.” The second in command had seen enough and with a swift movement from his leg, thrust his kneecap into Blat’s stomach. A grimace of pain shot across the receivers face as his body suddenly went limp and the grenade fell harmlessly to the floor.

Chito raised his pistol and brought it down onto his former colleagues head, knocking him unconscious. Edward hung his head. As the blood began to spill from the head of the betrayer Edward wondered just what had happened. The plan had been so simple.

Mrs. Celia Jenkins took one look at the body of the agent lying on the ground. “Just can’t get the staff these days can you?” she commented before walking off inside her house.

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She looked at the screen in front of her and sighed. It had started out as a bad day and definitely had not progressed as she had expected. Usually work was enough to keep her mind occupied, but today there was something different in the air. She nursed her wandering consciousness, flicking through the various screens at her terminal. The display panel switched dully in its usual monotonous way. There was nothing to report.

She cast her gaze across the room, catching the attention of one Marshall Krecker as she did so. He was a veteran agent, or so she had been told. Their eyes met briefly and she smiled sweetly at him. She wasn’t in the habit of interacting much with her fellow co-workers, but she afforded herself this little indiscretion.

Marshall smiled back. His thin lips curving in an innocent, yet entirely predictably jovial manner. She blushed ever so slightly at the older man’s grin and retired her gaze to the monitor in front of her.

The room housed around twenty five agents, some were highly experienced, some juniors. This particular division of the Global Temporal Enforcement Programme, or G-TEP as it was more popularly known, was primarily tasked with investigating early warnings of temporal disturbances.

The desks were arranged in sets of four, each set was termed a team, and each team assigned to a different task. Within each team there were usually three classes of agents. A veteran always acted as the team lead, followed by two senior agents and assisted by a junior. Runi just happened to be one of those juniors.

She stared out across the room. It was difficult to imagine this room being used for anything other than an important government operation of some kind. Maybe it was the huge banks of displays that adorned each wall, maybe it was the miles upon miles of cables, hidden in the ceiling, which Runi had seen when the maintenance team had left one of the tiles out of place one day. It could also have been the armed guards that stood protecting the two average sized entrances to the room.

The doors were closed, coated in a sea of light which brimmed out from the door frames. The opening was shaped like a church arch, majestic and yet somehow sinister in its current setting. I wasn’t as if the building had been converted either, the arches had been in the original design of the building. Runi was sure she had heard the reasons for their inclusion in a far distant part of her memory, but recalling it would have meant effort, effort she just wasn’t prepared to employ right now.

One of the guards on duty jostled his weapon and body armour, but in the dim stillness of the room, only a faint murmur could be heard. Runi strained to see his face. The stillness of the room extended to the amount of light present. It was as if the room was petrified of upsetting its occupants, like it was being held prisoner in some kind of unholy land. The guard moved again, this time adding a small grunt to his otherwise semi-silent motion.

“You OK there Jack?” his partner asked.

The man nodded and grunted once more. He was in his early thirties Runi guessed, tall, moderately handsome, though she would never have admitted it, and with a crew cut that made his facial features seem all the more prominent.

As the guards settled, Runi looked back across her terminal to the stack of printouts she still had to go through. She was bored. It wasn’t as if the job wasn’t exciting, being part of a multi-national investigative force that commanded the very highest respect, maybe part of it was not being able to talk to anyone about her work.

Runi wasn’t in a relationship, she had no one special, yet something inside her wanted to share all of the secrets that she had witnessed on so many occasions. Though still junior in rankings, she felt confident that she could rise through the process of promotion and become a veteran, maybe even a field agent.

Her face smiled as she imagined the other juniors all saluting her in customary G-TEP style. She could very well be the next Mersen Calibro. Now there was a secret in itself. A target of practically every terrorist and hostile force the world over, Mersen had secluded himself inside the confines of the G-TEP HQ complex for many years. Runi wasn’t even sure he ever went out. The Global Commander of the G-TEP was one of the most feared and well respected members of their society, but his status paid a price.

Her mind jarred. Maybe she didn’t want to be the next Mersen after all. He never seemed happy, always carrying around a thick leather bound book like it was his best friend. He seemed a hard man, tough on the outside, with a hint of justice and a pinch of remorse.

As she moved her head past the monitor again something caught her eye, a flash of light, something a little out of the ordinary. She looked back again, but whatever it was that had been there on her panel, was long gone. She reached for the jog wheel, her fingers expertly finding and then gripping the tense black plastic.

The adrenaline started pumping through her. This was important. She had never been on the receiving end of a temporal echo before. She had heard others shout out in alarm at something which had appeared on their terminals for a brief instant, but then vanished. Runi had never had the pleasure. Today she had been blessed.

Her fingers carefully cradled the plastic device as her wrist rotated it, first slowly, then a little further. She had to be quick. Temporal echoes were not only rare, but they were exceedingly difficult to categorise. It could have been a level three, the size was about right, or even a feint level two. Unless she found it again, there was no way to be sure.

Temporal echoes. The name still rang through her as she recalled her first few days of training. The instructors had described them as remnants of the possibility of a disruption in the time frame, either in the future, or from the past. They were like ripples that darted across the universe. Many had tried to create devices to record the echoes, to capture them for categorisation and investigation, but the sheer volume of data produced was unstorable.

She wound the jog wheel back further and watched as the image of the steady waves flickered on her screen. She pressed a button on the terminal and a second set of information appeared, numbers twirling and whirring by in a sort of alien ritual. Runi exhaled and caught the attention of on of the seniors in her quad.

“Runi, what’s up?” called Jed.

She gritted her teeth. She was angry with herself for showing such an obvious outward sign that she was on to something. She had wanted to be sure she was staring at an echo, to even perform a rudimentary analysis of it, before calling in a senior to second her work.

“It’s nothing Jed,” she called back. The man looked across at her. He certainly wasn’t going to be dismissed so easily. He rose from his seat, but Runi was too quick for him.

“OK,” she gave in too easily, “mirror my terminal. I thought I saw something in and around the forth arbiter, but I could have been wrong.” Jed obliged by pressing a few buttons on his terminal before settling back down into his chair.

“How long ago Runi?” he asked gruffly.

She thought carefully about replying, “I don’t know,” she said, “a minute, maybe two?”

His voice suddenly exploded, offending the other occupants in the room, “Well which was it ya little snot, one minute or two?”

Her anger rose to match his, but she was able to control herself. Her fingers became stiff and she released the wheel to flick the stress from her finger tips in two definite movements.

A voice came from above. “That’s not going to help Jed,” said the floor commander. He had been listening to the conversation from the beginning and didn’t like the way that young Jed pressured the poor girl.

Jed snarled to himself as Runi smiled slyly. She didn’t get on well with Jed and with the other two members of the Quad out of the office, she hadn’t been looking forward to working through the rest of the day.

Her veteran, Skotes, always took Felicia with him. Some said they were engaged in a deep relationship, but to Runi, they just seemed to get along. She didn’t blame either of them one bit. Of course it did mean she was left to deal with Jed most of the time.

The floor commander was suddenly by her side, his hand already planted on the desk, holding up the rest of his gigantic body as he leaned over her shoulder to see the display. His breath was cold on her neck and made her feel more than a little uneasy. She bit her lip subconsciously and continued searching for the elusive echo.

“You’re moving too slowly,” shouted Jed from across the quad. “If you don’t hurry up you’re going to lose it.” His voice was cutting and hindered her concentration. Just who was he to be yelling at her anyway? Sure he was a senior but it wasn’t as if Jed had had an entirely clean career.

“Jed,” shouted the commander, “hold your tongue or I will most certainly relieve you of your current duties.” His voice was more like the growl of an angry bear than the speech of a six foot giant. The intended audience of the threat shrank back as the bear began to roar again.

“Runi, I want you to take point on this.” He was clear and decisive, unwavering in his decision to make the young girl step up to the table. “I want you to advise Jed on which angle to take. You work together,” he paused to look over a Jed, who was positively seething, “understand?” He raised his eyebrows as he did so, expecting some form of acknowledgement from Jed . The senior nodded and cowered back into his seat once more.

“Jed, take the left thirteen sub-arbiters, I’ll work up the rest of them.”

He nodded and the two of them continued the chase in silence whilst the rest of the team looked on in amazement at the struggle which had just been triumphantly won by the young agent.

In the tense atmosphere of the room she afforded herself a glance up and met with the eyes of Marshall who gave her a knowing wink and nod. She smiled back at him, it appeared she had been given a second chance.

Runi looked back down at the panel, as she did so the screen blipped again. Was this it? Had she found the echo? Her fingers twitched, thrusting the job wheel into a spat of reverse. She let the screen progress. Nothing. This was getting frustrating.

She felt hot, stressed, tense, and under more pressure than she had ever been in her life. Jed seemed to be taking it far more coolly than she did. He was flicking the jog wheel, tapping on the keys in a seemingly effortless manner. She started fretting. What if she wasn’t good enough? What if Jed found it first?

Something inside the man across the table picked up on her vulnerability and he pounced. Ripping into her authority like a savage animal.

“Runi, why can’t you just let me take the eastern side, I know it far better than you. You’re just a junior.” She ignored him. Nothing was going to deter her from doing the best she could. The commander, a one Geoff Porter, was still standing over her, she couldn’t be seen to show weakness at a time like this.

“Runi,” Jed began again, “This is ridiculous, you don’t know what you’re doing.” She focussed her eyes, reducing them to slits to eradicate any and all extraneous stimuli. Geoff said nothing. This was Runi’s time to shine, her time to show the seniors that she had what it took. She wasn’t just a lowly analyst, he knew that. The girl had great potential, but great potential was nothing unless she had the backbone to do something with it.

The screen blipped again and before Geoff could say anything she was already there, whipping the controls like a jockey on a horse.

A distortion appeared. In it’s current view the echo looked like the cross between a ribbon and a multicoloured contour map. It shimmered across the screen and then froze, as if something had altered the properties of space and time in its very presence.

The something had been Runi. She had paused the feed and hit the sequence of buttons to capture the wave. Jed was still looking intently at his screen as she said plainly and simply, “I got it Jed.”

He looked up with a real hint of malice in his eyes. Not only had she humiliated him in from of the entire floor, but she had also gained herself a pretty large bonus for spotting the echo.

“Well done Runi,” said the commander, “now classify it.” The rest of the floor continued with their work in a mutated silence. Runi looked at the screen and used the multitouch panel to trace outlines and gather measurements of the distortion. Her fingers left traces of moisture on the display. She was nervous. She hadn’t noticed it, but her knee had been bouncing up and down now for the best part of three or four minutes.

The commander pulled up a chair beside her and sat down. He placed one of his gigantic hands on her still oscillating leg and brought it to rest. Runi sat bolt upright and looked at the commander.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. “You handled that very nicely indeed. I knew you had it in you.”

“Thank you Sir,” she replied.

Jed rose from his chair in an explosion of rage, expelling the piece of furniture from behind him and landing it in the legs of another female member of the team. Not even thinking to apologise, Jed stormed off towards the southerly arch and exited the right wing of section A4.

After a brief mouthing of an apology to the unsuspecting female senior who had been so needlessly attacked, Runi reasserted her control over the data in front of her. Her mind was filled with the plethora of knowledge she had gained during her training. Her hands were a blur as she typed up notes, compared temporal signatures and cross referenced details with files from the last few years.

“It’s a level two distortion,” she finally concluded. Geoff had been preoccupied with staring at the assaulted senior. He had apologised to her audibly, but Runi hadn’t heard.

“Any sign of a signature?” he enquired.

She winced, looking closer at the screen, moving her head towards the glowing panel in front of her.

“I’d like to say for sure, but I can’t,” she started. She took a deep breath, turned to face the commander and spoke, “It looks like it begins with Theta-3-9, and ends in the Sigma band.”

In an instant his hand was on the back of her chair as he leaned in towards the screen. He was breathing even more heavily now and his shadow almost occluded the screen.

“Are you sure?” he asked her seriously.

“No,” she replied honestly, “I can’t say anything for sure, apart from the fact that is definitely ends in the Sigma range.”

He blinked twice before closing his eyes tight and squeezing, as if trying to erase a bad memory.

“On your feet agent,” he said briskly, rising from his hunched position. Runi stood, contrasting Jed’s earlier movements by her courteous care for the chair.

“Have I done something wrong?” she enquired. Her heart was racing. Had she made a wrong analysis? She was sure she had the remembered correctly but she couldn’t be too sure. There was just so much to account for, so many variables. She looked back across at the screen again. It looked right, Theta start, Sigma end, sure it was unusual, but it wasn’t a difficult signature to read. Her heart continued to pound and more adrenaline was pumped through her already worn nerves. What the commander said next would not calm her nerves in the slightest.

“You’ve done nothing wrong Runi, but I’m afraid we have to go now?” he said sternly.

“Where are we going?” she asked as he began to walk away, almost already at the door.

“To see the Global Commander,” he replied, “You just earned yourself an audience with Mersen Calibro.”

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1. Will there be a sequel?
2. On attachment to characters

Be Warned!! There are SPOILERS in these commentaries.

1. On Zane…
2. On Ruben…
3. Are there any bits of you in the book?
4. On the writing process

Be Warned!! There are SPOILERS in these commentaries.
Continued in Part 4

1. Did the story line change?
2. On Kiele…

Be Warned!! There are SPOILERS in these commentaries.
Continued in Part 3

1. On Time Travel…
2. On Sci Fi…
3. Did you consider the dark nature of the start may be a turn off?

Be Warned!! There are SPOILERS in these commentaries.
Continued in Part 2

Though Emblem Divide is over, please watch the commentaries, you may find a nice surprise in there There will be two bonus chapters later, which may give a further insight into the world of Emblem and even a sneak peak inside the G-TEP HQ. I’m hoping to record two of the songs mentioned in ED, Colour Me Stupid and You Ain’t Seen Me Till I’m Dead and upload them to the site. There’s also the possibility of some exclusive artwork, for which I need to find someone to paint me some extraodinary scenery. There’s also the idea of producing an audio book, and I need to post later about how printed copies will work.

In closing, keep spreading the word. You now know the ending and as so, are much better placed to promote the book to others. The best decision we made in the team was to share Emblem Divide with the community. Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoyed it.

He sat there, reading. The sun was warm and the beach was beautiful. Through the waving of the palm trees he occasionally felt a burst of sunlight on his legs, his torso and head being completely in shade. This was just what he needed. He picked up the drink from his side and sipped it slowly. It wasn’t alcoholic, just cool, refreshing his senses and filling him with a feeling of relaxation.

The man hadn’t taken a holiday in years, previous events had meant he just couldn’t afford it. Now, finally he was able to give his family something they had desperately needed; a nice long vacation, somewhere hot, sunny, and relaxing.

Over in the water two teenagers were splashing each other. The young boy ran towards the the girl, hands cupped into the water, spraying her as he did so. She screamed in delight. ‘They were having way too much fun,’ he thought. His train of thought was broken by a voice to his left.

“So, did it turn out how you expected?” The author of the words was a woman in her early forties. In her youth she had been ferociously beautiful and now? ‘Time hadn’t stolen anything from her’, thought Oken as he looked at his wife. Jay smiled.

“I guess so,” said Oken. “Truth is, this part was never in the plan.” He smiled back. “I’m just glad it turned out how it did, never mind what was intended to happen.” He had realised there had been no point in trying to shape the future to be a carbon copy of what he had been told, or even to try to carve specific aspects. Things would happen how they happened. Ruben of course would have argued differently, and often did. ‘God has a plan for all of us’ was his favourite saying. It wasn’t that Oken didn’t agree, he just wasn’t ready to give up full control of his life just yet.

The teenagers continued playing in the beautifully clear water in front of him. The girl had managed to get the boy into a head lock and was now busy dunking his face into the water, amidst much splashing and shouting from her victim. Oken laughed and pointed to the quarrelling pair. They seemed to get along so well.

“Way to go Kiele,” he shouted, his hands amplifying his voice. Her likeness to the girl he had seen only briefly so many years ago was uncanny. One in a million chance. Perhaps not chance, Ruben wouldn’t have called it chance. It was as if that face, that beautiful girl, was meant to be on this planet, no matter what the events the time-frame threw in her way. ‘Maybe that’s how it really worked,’ thought Oken, ‘some people are just destined to be here.’

Even more uncanny was the name of the young boy. He lifted his head from the water and started objecting. He yelled back across to Oken “Why do you always have to take her side Mr Brown?” The man smiled. Zane Krecker, who really was a carbon copy of the boy who had changed his future was standing, or rather half drowning in front of him. The two teenagers had met at school and had instantly fallen in inexplicable love. Oken shook his head. He still couldn’t quite believe it, but it seemed God really wanted those two to be together. Had it really been God who had changed the past? Had his influence changed everything? In his mind, the face of Ruben nodded emphatically.

He picked up the book and read a few more lines of the story. He had never been one for fiction, a flight of fancy, he preferred to call it. He saw little point in indulging oneself into an alternative reality for such a short period of time. No, if Oken wanted to read, it had to be an entire series of books, something to really get his teeth in to.

The cover of the book was worn, where it had been read multiple times. Shortly after their marriage, Jay had given Oken a set of books as a gift. She had said that she hoped they would change his life forever. They had. He had become more assertive thought reading the tale, and they had become closer.

Oken had told her everything about the past, the future, the present. Everything. It had been difficult and to this day, he was still unsure whether she treated it as truth, or fiction. He knew the truth. It was his legacy. She had told him to write it all down, one day it would make a fascinating story for the kids. He had obliged, albeit reluctantly.

The two teenagers were now running up to him. The boy first, followed by the girl. She threw her body forward and rugby tackled him, landing inches from Oken’s chair and spraying him and his drink with sand. He glared at the boy with eyes of fire.

“Why is it always my fault?” Zane screamed, smiling. It was a running joke between the pair. Everything that happened was his fault, never the good, always the bad. He was happy though. He had found someone wonderful, someone that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Oken could see that in his eyes. The pair were truly perfectly matched, much like he and Jay.

“Because you’re always the one doing stupid things,” Oken said. It wasn’t meant as a malicious comment, and the tone of his voice echoed the sentiment.

Kiele nodded, “He does have a point Zane.” The young boy screwed up his face in disgust and his girlfriend released him from her grip. He got up and dusted himself off, showering Oken and Jay with yet more sand.

“Are you trying to be annoying?” he asked the boy in jest.

“No dad, it just comes naturally to him.”

They all laughed and Oken realised how good it felt to be called Dad. Kiele had been a blessing, and not even in disguise. She had changed the once harsh figure of a man, into a loving father. His life with Jay had been perfect. He had returned to university, but this time to teach, his course on temporal mechanics being one of the most popular in the construct.

In the absence of Oken’s attack at the Zone, the government hadn’t reacted in the same vain. The G-TEP still existed, and were more ruthless than ever, but overall life was beginning to get better for everyone.

“I’m just going to get a drink,” said Jay, “anyone else want one?”

“I’ll come with you,” said Kiele, and the pair walked off towards the resorts bar. The beach was beautiful and the ability to just pop twenty metres away for a nice cool drink was a definite advantage.

“I’ll have another,” said Oken, lifting the sand filled glass, “As mine seems to have suffered some kind of accident.” He looked at the boy who cowered away. He chuckled again. “Lighten up kid.”

Zane’s face changed. He looked down at Oken and made a face as if he was eating a toffee, a particularly sticky toffee at that. He was looking for words, but found none. Eventually he settled for the simplest option.

“Mr. Brown can we talk?” Suddenly Oken’s face changed too, to one of concern, one of a serious nature.

“Sure kid.”

“Mind if we walk and talk?” Oken smiled and got up out of his chair. He placed his hands in his pockets and began to walk off in the direction that Zane was already taking.

The two of them walked in silence for at least ten metres before Zane stopped. The sun was past its highest point now and had begun its lonely descent across the sky. The shadows were taught and the hue a subtle red. Zane looked at the man who he already felt was like a father to him. His real parents were still alive, and though they loved him greatly, they had been far too preoccupied with his little brother lately. Zane understood. He was only twelve, and needed far much more looking after than he ever did.

“Mr. Brown,” he started. Oken held up his hand.

He spoke in a slow but caring way, “Please, Oken. Call me Oken.”

“Oken,” the boy started again, “You know I love your daughter very much.” The man nodded. “And, well, I kinda feel like I want to spend the rest of my life with her. You know what I mean?”

Oken’s expression changed once more. A Frisbee flew between the pair, narrowly missing Oken’s face. He looked across to see if his daughter had been the culprit. He looked at her sarcastically, before returning to the boy.

“Only kinda feel?” he asked.

“OK,” said Zane, “I totally feel it.” He paused, looking down at his shoes. “Man this is so much harder than it ought to be.”

The wise man spoke once more, “Just go for it kid.” He already had an inkling of what the boy was going to ask. Zane and Kiele had been dating for years, and the time seemed to be approaching for them to want to branch off on their own.

“I was hoping that you may possibly consider consenting at the request of mine to perhaps take your daughter’s hand in marriage.” The sentence was long and the boy had paused several times throughout. Oken looked thoughtful. He turned back at the boy. He knew how much he loved Kiele, and he also knew how much his alter ego had been through. It wasn’t even an alter ego, more of a shadow of the boy standing before him.

“Zane,” said Oken frankly, “You’d do anything for her wouldn’t you?”

The boy nodded. “I’d die protecting her, you know I would.” The man nodded slowly, breathing in deeply as he did so.

“I know you would son,” he said. He put his arm round the boy and looked out over the ocean, the sun was bright and it almost burnt his eyes. He squinted. “I know what you’re capable of and, I have to say, I can think of no one better to protect my daughter than you.”

Zane looked at Oken talking as he finished his sentence. Sometimes the boy found it impossible to comprehend how genuine this man really was. He couldn’t quite believe his response. Though he had been hoping, and praying, that Mr. Brown would say yes, he still didn’t quite believe it. It was going to take a final confirmation.

“Is that a yes?” he asked slowly and cautiously.

“No,” said Oken, “It’s not just a yes, it’s an irrevocable yes. I wish you two all the happiness in the world.” The boy, tears in his eyes hugged the big man. “Knock it off,” he said, “Go do it already.”

Zane looked up at him, slightly confused.

“If this isn’t the perfect place and time to ask a woman to marry you, then I don’t know what is.” The boy smiled and felt around inside his pocket for something. He suddenly became frantic and Oken lifted a small object from his pocket and placed it in Zane’s free hand. “I guess you’re looking for this,” he said.

The ring box had fallen out when he had been tackled earlier, and Oken had been quick to disguise it. He had known Zane was planning to give her a ring, marriage was predictable. The kid smiled. “Thanks,” he said.

Oken turned and walked away, with Zane staying behind. When he reached Kiele, she asked him, “And what were you two talking about?” Oken sat in his chair and sipped his new drink.

“I think that’s something you’d better ask your boyfriend about.” he said dryly. Kiele poked out her tongue at her father and walked off in the direction of Zane. Jay, now lying down again on the reclined chair looked across at her husband, shielding her eyes from the light.

“So what were you talking about?” she asked.

Oken looked at the boy who was now knelt down on one knee. He tapped his wife on the shoulder and pointed at the pair. “Say hello to our new son-in-law to be,” he said.

Jay cooed happily at the proposal taking place. Kiele suddenly flipped out and flung her arms around Zane’s neck before kissing him, almost knocking him over.

“Remember when we were like that?” she asked.

A voice came from behind them. “Whatd’ya mean when,” it said gruffly. It was Ruben. He threw a book down onto Oken’s stomach. “I read it,” he said.

“And?” asked Oken.

“Yah, it was OK,” he said, “thought of a name yet?”

“I was thinking Emblem Divide,” said Oken.

Ruben nodded slowly before crouching down between the couple. “It’s OK I guess,” he said. The young pair at the waters edge were still locked in embrace. “Forgive me for being a little bit of a killjoy, but aren’t those two acting even worse than usual?”

“That’s because they’re now engaged.”

Ruben slapped Oken on the arm. “Congrats my man.”

Oken nodded.

“Oh by the way Okie,” he said, “You gotta change the end line. It really stank.”

“Whatd’ya mean?” said Oken. “I thought it was really good.”

“Yeh right,” said his friend, “And then he woke up and realised it had all been a dream.”

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As he walked to the Zone for what would be the last time, his mind was set on completely different things. For a start he had a love interest now. He didn’t know entirely who Zane had been talking about, but the pretty young blond seemed like a good place to start.

Oken had never had time for relationships, he had never had time for anyone other than himself. Or Ruben. Though he felt bad for thinking it, Ruben was fairly low maintenance. He didn’t have to be anyone different around the man. Ruben accepted him for who he was, a slightly kooky, rather odd, obsessive warrior.

The walk filled him with more excitement than he had felt carrying Bethany to her first showing, but of course Oken didn’t know that. A part of him wished he had saved the boy and girl. Kiele and Zane, he had to remember those names. Deep down inside though, he knew he had made the right decision.

The ambulance had cleared away the body of Jessie, before Oken had left the second time. He looked down at his watch, a boring, cheap old model from a local shop. Maybe after the battle he would go and visit his mother, make amends like he always told himself he would.

The air seemed warmer than before, full of hope, anticipation, new beginnings. A part of him wanted to skip to the Zone but he quickly came to his senses. What a stupid idea. As he crossed the park, the birds twittered and sang sweet songs to him. He stopped. Why was he going to the zone again?

The harsh reality of his world fell back into place. He had to. If he missed a fight, he’d be found and most likely killed. Then there was Jay. In his mind she was the overwhelming reason for going. Death he could handle, it was simple, you just lay there motionless. Jay was something different, exciting, a complete unknown.

In all honesty he was a little concerned that Zane had gotten his details wrong. Was there really going to be such a beautiful woman there waiting for him? He smiled to himself. It was beyond thinking. It was fantasy. His life could take on a whole new meaning, he didn’t have to be shackled by the years of hatred and pain he had suffered in the war, at the behest of his parents.

He realised something; he’d hit something big this time. He had made a choice. All this time, he had imagined it something predetermined. All this time he had believed that the events of his past had made him the way he was. Sure they had shaped him, but it was his choice to decide who he was. He had made the decision to make Bethany. He had also made the decision to destroy her. It had taken a visit from a boy from the future to show him that.

The Zone door was only a few metres away and Oken saw Ruben up ahead. Zane hadn’t given him too many details about his brother, but Oken had been able to fill in most of the blanks himself. He had caused his friend unimaginable suffering. Not this time.

“Okie,” said Ruben in a cheery tone, “something special planned for tonight?”

“You could say that,” he said dryly. Ruben began a little dance of joy singing ‘yeh yeh yeh yeh yeh’. Oken’s next words shattered his illusion. “It’s going to be my final fight.”

Ruben stopped dead and looked at him. “Where the hell did this come from?” he said.

“I had a visit from a friend,” said Oken. He changed tact, Ruben was obviously unimpressed by his previous statement. “Ruben, you ever get the feeling you’re meant for something more than this?”

“All the time,” said Ruben putting an arm round his friends shoulder, “all the time. It’s called guilt and it’s very hard to……” His sentence was cut short by a swift slap to the back of his head. He winced in jestful pain. “What the hell was that for?”

“I’m serious,” said Oken. “This just isn’t what I want any more.”

His friend nodded. “You don’t know how many times, I’ve thought the same.” He paused, “I’ll let them know, you want it kept secret I take it?” Oken nodded. The last thing he wanted was for news of his final fight to hit the stands. It always made things so much more difficult. He had seen it before on countless occasions.

“Thanks Ruben.”

Oken walked into the Zone and the familiar feelings of aggression and anticipation came flooding back. This time however, they seemed out of character. He had changed. The fury that once fuelled him, that he once revelled in, was now an annoyance. The dancing had commenced and people were busy gyrating their bodies to the whim of the pied piper in the corner of the room.

* * *

Oken hadn’t spent any time in the chiller that evening. Ruben had informed him that his fight would be against Yaz. Apparently the fighter had requested it himself. Lucky guy thought Oken. If I’d have brought Bethany along, you wouldn’t have stood a chance. He breathed deeply.

Looking across the stands he saw the spectators beginning to make their way to their seats. This fight wasn’t going to be easy. Yaz was good. Very good. As he scanned the stands subconsciously, one particular young woman grabbed his attention. The pretty blonde in the third row from the back, second one in. Could that be her? Could that be Jay?

He sat down in the stands, totally uninterested in the fight which had raged below. Amidst the shouting of the crowds, she seemed to be so peaceful. Sitting there, writing notes, occasionally sweeping her hair back with her pencil. Oken was feeling something he never had before. He was completely infatuated with her.

Oken hadn’t realised that the fight below had finished. The bouncers were busy dragging the corpses away and Ruben was making his way over to his friend.

“This is it,” he said as he approached Oken. He held out a hand for his friend to shake. “Make it a good one.”

Oken smiled. He didn’t even know what that meant any more. His desire to fuel the crowd with his exploits was well and truly past him. He had a new goal now, to be happy, to change the world for the better. He looked across at Jay who was coincidently looking at him. All of a sudden he became shy and turned away blushing. What the hell was this feeling?

The retiring man walked past her as he made his way down the stairs to the floor below. It felt quite alien to him now. So cold and deathly. He was glad he hadn’t watched the previous fight, judging by the blood, it had been particularly messy.

He scanned the walls as he took up position on the stage. The crowds were jumping and cheering now. Oken had no weapon. No visible weapon anyway. Just what was he planning? Jay was writing feverishly in her notebook. The screens behind the platform were, currently all centred on him. He clicked his neck left and then right.

Yaz made his way down on to the platform too. ‘Someone’s smiling down on you today,’ thought Oken. This was going to be without doubt, the hardest fight he had ever had in his life. He realised though, that he had something he imagined Yaz didn’t; purpose. He knew he wanted to exit this place alive for a reason. He had things to do, people to see, history to make. Did Yaz?

His opponent started twirling his staff in his ritualistic dance. Oken smiled. A staff against hand to hand. This was going to be so interesting. As long as Oken could stay lightening fast, he stood a chance. Not a great one, but a chance none the less.

Several of the spectators had started banging on the glass now and a full scale chant was beginning. Oken couldn’t quite make out the words. It seemed more like a jumble to him. Yaz couldn’t make them out either and the two fighters exchanged confused glances before chuckling to each other.

There was no real animosity between the pair. Yaz had merely requested the fight to improve his standings. He wanted to be where Oken was. Beating the man would put him in a prime position, and to be honest, out of all the things in the world, it was what he wanted more than anything else.

The music began thinning now. Laying the ground work for the fight ahead. Oken’s mind ran through a few attack-block scenarios. Fighting a staffed opponent was hard at the best of times, but Yaz was fast and skilful to boot, plus Oken only had the hands God had given him.

As he played through yet another three or four scenarios he almost missed it when the announcer screamed that all important word.

GO!

* * *

The staff hurt. Though Yaz hadn’t been as brutal as some of the other fighters, attaching nails, sandpaper or other destructive objects to the ends, the force of the staff hitting his skin was damn painful. He defended another onslaught from his opponent. The fight was not going his way.

It wasn’t an opinion he shared, alone, Jay was feeling the same way, as were half the spectators. ‘Come on Oken, he ain’t half the fighter you are’ shouted one man behind Jay. She noted it down, it may come in useful later.

The older fighter did indeed look out gunned and out classed. His heart just wasn’t in it any more and as Yaz rained down blow after blow, his mind cleared and he prepared himself for the end.

Then that face came to him. Kiele. His daughter. He had seen her in pain. She was looking at him, telling him to get up. Asking around her why her father was such a loser. ‘You’re just like Jessie’ she yelled. ‘Isn’t he?’ She turned around, apparently asking the opinion of others around her, but there was no one else there.

Suddenly he was filled with rage, vision or subconscious, he wasn’t going to let them be right. He opened his eyes fully and saw Yaz about to rain down yet another blow on the poor fighters chest. With expert precision he rolled to the side, trying to keep his feet in the same position as much as possible. As Yaz turned mid stream, Oken pulled in a leg and fired his foot at the man’s shin.

Yaz’s left leg flew out from under him with such force that his entire body rotated and fell to the ground. Yaz shook his head and blinked a few times. How had Oken done that? A few moments ago he had been lying on the floor, receiving the beating of a lifetime. Yaz had been enjoying it so much, and it had been so easy, that he had turned to the crowds and lifted a hand to get them to cheer all the louder.

Now he was on the floor and Oken was all of a sudden on his feet. He appeared to have some kind of secret weapon, what was it? Oken looked up at Jay and smiled. She saw it and looked behind her. Who was he smiling at?

Yaz picked himself up and Oken allowed him some time to dust himself off. It was odd how often fighters in the Zone actually did that. It was almost like a time-out. Yaz nodded to Oken. He was ready once more. At least he thought he was.

Oken ran towards Yaz and Yaz ran towards Oken. Yaz pulled back his staff, ready to thwack his opponent with the end, stinging the skin, but Oken was ready for it. As the staff flew through the air, looking for its target, the target evaded and landed a punch in Yaz’s side.

The crowd cheered. This was turning out better than they had expected. It had seemed as if Oken was about to roll over and give up, but now they had a real fight on their hands. Yaz attempted to reign blow after blow onto the body of Oken Brown but his mastery seemed to have fallen on a deaf figure.

Oken was having none of it. The staff came round once again and this time Oken let it hit his side, tensing his muscles to avoid the pain before looping his arm round it and locking it into place. In one swift motion he ran up into the air, using Yaz’s body as stepping stones, and slid his right foot down the staff, crushing Yaz’s fingers as he did and making his opponent lose his most valuable asset.

Now it was Oken’s turn. He had never fully appreciated the staff as a weapon, now he could see its benefits. He teased Yaz a little, slapping him in various parts of his body, whilst the other fighter tried in vain to stem his attacks. Oken slung the end of the staff into Yaz’s left knee and then masterfully spun to do the same to his right.

Yaz dropped to his knees momentarily, before jumping up to his feet again. It wasn’t going to go down like this. He was going to defeat Oken. In truth they were equally matched. Had Oken been accompanied by Bethany, Yaz wouldn’t have stood a chance. In his current state however, Oken now had a significant advantage.

Oken’s opponent danced around, changing his stance to more of a boxer. He made a few rudimentary jabs, which Oken blocked with the staff. Mr Brown looked a little clumsy using the staff, which was the one discipline he had never really trained in. He was used to swords, but somehow, he hadn’t felt the need to bring a weapon into the ring. This fight was all about destiny. If he won, he would start a new life, one without violence, one without hate, and hopefully one including Jay. His mind hadn’t even entertained the idea of losing.

With all his strength, Oken spun the staff round once in the air above his head, missing Yaz completely. The young fighter grinned, but his glee was short lived. Oken’s staff continued through one revolution, before changing angle, like a helicopter rotor blade. The very tip of the staff swung forward and hit Yaz in the knee again. He yelled out in pain and the crowd went wild.

Jay, who had been watching Oken’s mastery was impressed. She had expected the fighter to be sporting another new sup-hum device. Instead he had chosen to fight bare knuckled, something almost unheard of, bar the newbie fights. He had something to prove. Something to show to the entire audience.

The young girl was beginning to like Oken more and more. She had been following his career with greater intensity lately. There was something about him. Something different. He seemed to be fighting for a reason other than winning today. She liked it. It was exciting. Jay was secretly hoping she could get an exclusive interview with him after the fight. Something inside her told her he was going to win.

After the impact, Yaz dropped to one side again. He hadn’t kept his guard up. Oken had struck at the same point twice and now Yaz was paying for it. As he tried to extend his good leg fully again to bring himself to a standing position, Oken did what Yaz feared most. The staff spun around to the other side of his body and thwacked against his opposite knee. The pain was excruciating and once again Yaz was on his knees.

The crowd were cheering, pushing Oken forward, and for a second, the fighter seemed to be back in the game, forgetting his earlier promise of retirement and retreat. He turned his body to one side and very quickly let out a swift kick at his opponents chest, but Yaz saw it coming and began to bring his hands in.

It was only now that Oken saw a secret weapon. Something he had never seen Yaz use before. In previous bouts, Oken had noticed Yaz wearing some kind of wrist bands. They looked fairly ordinary, and only now did Oken see what they really were. They were a safety net, a fighter’s last resort. His hands were now folded back and from his wrist bands protruded two beautifully crafted blades. So sharp, so thin, that they were almost invisible in the chaos that was the Zone. However, Oken saw them.

In almost slow motion he watched as the blades sliced through the air, getting closer and closer to his ankle. This would be Yaz’s first true offence in a while. ‘Not today’, thought Oken. He purposefully dropped his foot to the floor, leaving Yaz a little confused and spun round, catching the poor man with a foot in the side of his head.

Yaz closed his eyes and blinked hard. The pain was getting to him now and he couldn’t think clearly. His only though at that moment was of obscure household objects. They flashed through his mind one after the other. Why? He didn’t know, his mind was playing tricks on him. His mind was damaged. He couldn’t think clearly at all. It was all over. His mind and body gave up simultaneously and he slumped to the floor.

On hitting the hard surface of the floor, he was almost brought to. In a snap instant his mind reconfigured itself and was once again whole. He looked up at Oken. The man was standing proud, but not revelling like he used to. There was something different about him now. His shirt ripped in several places, made it look as if he had participated in a bar room brawl. But there was no blood. This man was a winner for sure. Yaz had lost, unequivocally. His mind went fuzzy once more and the loser lost consciousness.

The crowds were really jumping now. Screaming from the tops of their voices. It was a clear victory. They knew who they loved, and they loved Oken. As he bowed to them as a mark of respect, the announcer broke the news that this had been Oken’s last fight. The fighter was a little nervous, no one got a decent reception on leaving the Zone. His would be no different he was sure.

He closed his eyes. The noise was deafening, but it wasn’t the booing he had expected, it was a subtle cheer. It seemed as though the crowds were really proud of him. He looked down at the crumbling figure of Yaz. He wasn’t sorry for winning, but he hoped the Zone wouldn’t terminate the loser of the battle, like they always seemed to. He had liked Yaz, this last fight had been one to remember for sure.

The Zone’s owner rushed down the stairs and walked towards Oken. He was carrying a bottle of champagne; a thank you for his years of service to the establishment. Oken smiled and took the bottle. It was expensive champagne. Now to start his new life. He looked up into the spectator stands, and saw the girl he had been fighting for. She was sat there, writing away, her mind in a completely different place to the others, but she was smiling.

Oken walked away from the fight with his hands held high. His foot steps felt lighter as he walked across the stone cold killer of a floor. Dust sprayed from each step and his once jet black shoes, now sported a definite grey look. As he reached the stairs, the crowds had already begun to pour down onto the platform floor restricting his movement like the viscous ether of time. Pushing, shoving, pulsating. They had been privy to a good fight and they had loved it.

As he reached the top of the stairs, Oken took a moment to breathe. The crowds were running past him now and there were only a few left in the stands. Of course Jay was still there, writing feverishly in her notebook. He walked past her without saying a word, stopped and turned. Her hair looked so soft. Was she really destined to fall in love with him? He leaned over so that his mouth was inches from her ear. Through the harsh sounds of the Zone, only she heard his voice.

“How about an exclusive interview?”

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