"Power hath descended forth from thy hand
That our feet may swiftly carry out thy command"
-The Boondock Saints


"Thank you, Ms Fairbanks. Any questions? Yes, Mr Baker."

Basil considered his query carefully, tapping his pen against his bottom lip. "I'm afraid I am unfamiliar with the particular minority Ms Fairbanks spoke of. Who are the 'others'?"

"A well-placed question, as usual. Can anyone assist Mr Baker? Ah, yes. Mr Schroeder. What do you have?"

Guiness bit his lip and grinned sheepishly. "Well, physicians have been noting a growing number of physical and mental abnormalities, haven't they? Prodigies are becoming near commonplace."

"Says the Boy Genius!" There was an appreciative murmur through the class; Basil cuffed his mate lightly. The boy blushed and chanced a glance at his accuser who winked in response.

"Thank you, Mr Moscoe. I'm sure Mr Schroeder will have a word with you at your next tutouring session." A hum broke out once more and Guiness's cheeks darkened. "Go on, Guiness."

He wrung his hands a bit. "Well, that's it, really. More and more children are being found to have mutations."

"Mutations?" The class' attentions returned to their earlier place. "Like in the funny books?"

"Not exactly." Professor Whigs stood once more and began to strut the length of the front. "There has been no evidence of something as impossible as unnatural abilities, or 'super powers', if you will." The room chuckled. "However, as our Mr Schroeder proves, humans are evolving at a faster rate than we ever could have dreamed. Now why might this be? Mr Schroeder?"

"It's a trend, isn't it? Every few millenia, evolution jumps ahead. So couldn't it be that?"

"It certainly could be. What else?" A smiled twitched in his cheek. "Mr Schroeder."

"Most research has shown that the influence of fertility enhancers are a distinct possibility."

"Very good."

"Fertility enhancers?"

"I believe the term for your generation is 'viagra', Mr Moscoe." His student smiled smugly.

Basil nudged him. "Give it a rest, clear?"

"He's just a teacher."

"Stop it. And lay off the kid."

"Blimey. Not going soft are you, Baz?"

"I'm telling you, Chris. Let it go." He turned back to the professor. Moscoe eyed him.

"You're only twenty-five, Baker. Don't act so old."

*

"We're in."

"I knew I loved you for a reason."

"Well that's comforting."

"Don't be cheeky. What's going on 'round those parts?"

The lighting in their tunnel was minimal to say the best and the two of them squinted about to get their bearings. "Absolutely nothing."

"Wait." Fordo strained against the piercing silence, craning to hear the slightest pin. "...I think I 'ear somethin'. Like a machine, or...computer, maybe."

"Sorry to shorten your stick, mate, but mine's the only compy for miles."

"That's bizarre."

"Well, darlin', Moscoe's bizarre. Or at least his imprisonment of innocent children would argue such. Shall we move on?"

"Let's."

"Right. You're moving down the tunnel."

"West?"

"Sure, Fordo. Whichever way you came out. When you come to a crossroad, let me know."

They padded along. "My, you're testy!" Hiroko observed. "Are we out of squash again?"

"Finished the bottle Thursday. Somone should head to Sainsbury's this week."

"We'll get right on tha', mate." Fordo rolled his eyes. "Right after the whole 'Battle to the Death' bit."

"Sounds lovely. You there yet?"

Hiroko rolled her eyes at the increasing banter and slowed as an intersection came into view. "Yes, we're here."

"Beautiful. Turn...oh, let's say left."

"You sure about that, Gizmo?"

"Just turn left."

Fordo bit his lip and lead the way. From somewhere beneath his trainers came a great, almighty squelch; he froze in his tracks. "...What is it, Fordo?"

"I'm...not sure."

Hiroko bent over, using what little light there was to see the floor below. "...Guiness? Where are we?"

"OH. Uhm...the drain pipes."

"Drain pipes."

"Yeah. It's a lovely short-cut, really..."

"So...we're in sewage."

"...That would appear to be the case, yes."

"Guiness, I swear to Eru 'm gonna kill you..."

"Come on." Grabbing Fordo's sleeve, Hiroko tugged the both of them through the pipe, sloshing and splashing irritably. "The sooner we get out, the better, right? So let's just keep going."

*

"What do you mean, one of them's here?"

Moscoe turned to the rather affronted woman and smiled charmingly. "Please, madame. All will be explained in due time." She sat in a huff and he continued. "Ladies and gentlemen, it has come to our attention that a terrorist organisation known as the Coalition for United Prosperity has infultrated the Centre and intends to use destructive measures to obtain various documents on the residents here. These residents being your children."

The room came alive as table after table jumped to heated debate over the safety of the building they were now in. John Summers reached under the table to touch his wife's leg. She turned to him with wide eyes and trembling lip.

"Fordo--"

"'E'll be fine, love. Trust 'im."

"However," Moscoe began. "We would like to inform you that we are taking the necessary precautions and will do everything in our power to keep you and your children safe."

"May we see the children?"

"I'm afraid, Mr Hathaway, that such a process would put your children in greater harm. The best we can do for your children is remain in a state of relative calm and allow the necessary safety procautions to take their part." He smiled at the group gathering at his feet. Like Sinai. "We have been preparing for such an act for months now, ever since we heard tell of the CUP's interest in our projects. Let me assure you that your children are safer here than anywhere else in the world."

It was at that precise moment that Fordo Summers and Hiroko Pocky reached the room their mission was to lead them to.

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Yes, it's been forever and, yes, I am ashamed. But I've at last taken to the Paiga method of advice which consists of 'Suck it up and write'. Thus, I have hit a stint. Expect more soon!!!