A Day of Faces

Cancer

"Here we go," I said. "Remember, no fighting. Just hop us out of here. That should make the point."

The crowd's excitement intensified as the guards closed in, the roaring reaching a pounding, percussive crescendo. Everyone was looking forward to us being tackled to the ground and dragged away. We'd be the entertainment before the main show.

I took hold of Cal's hand, and just before the guards' outstretched hands grabbed at us we simply

folded back onto Red. The ground wasn't quite the same, and we were in somebody's back garden, but otherwise we just kept on walking, as if nothing had happened. A lady stood rooted to the spot, next to a washing line, staring at us as we walked across her lawn.

There was a flicker of recognition. "Ah, you're those two from the other world," she said, smiling. "Would you like a drink while you're here? I have some fresh lemonade."

"Sorry, ma'am," Cal said, "we're on business."

"Another time, then?"

I smiled. "That'd be lovely!" Honestly, under any other circumstance I'd have happily pulled up a seat.

The lady didn't even look twice at my squamata appearance. I was the only scaled person on the planet and she was totally fine with that. I'd been all over the news, to be fair, so she already knew everything about me - but, still, the lack of prejudice on Red was remarkable. If there was any, and I'm sure there was, somewhere, it was being kept far from us.

"This should do it," Cal said, which was a good job as we were fast approaching the rear fence of the garden. He was still holding my hand, and so it took only a blink of a moment for us to slide back

to the sports stadium, now that much closer to the stage in the centre. The guards were standing a good ten metres away, utterly non-plussed, and looking away from our new position. It took me a moment to realise that the crowd was oddly silent when we jumped back in - it was a stark contrast to the roaring exuberance of before. Of course, they'd just seen us vanish before their eyes. On our return, blue sparks flickering off into the air and onto the grass, there was then a collective gasp that rippled around the stands as we were noticed and everyone started to piece the information together. The mysterious girl and her disappearing, blue-eyed companion had been featured on enough news programmes for us to be recognisable.

The guards finally clocked where we were and resumed their chase. This time, as they did so, the boos started again. The guards faltered, and slowed, and the boos subsided. Unsure, the guards turned towards us again - summoning more disapproving shouts. The guards stopped and raised their arms in confusion, glancing between us, the crowd and their paymasters back at the edge of the pitch.

We kept walking.

Nothing got between us and the stage, and we hopped up and took the mic. A technician gawped at us from the side of the stage but didn't move to stop us.

"Hi," I said, leaning into the mic. There was a kind of nervous mix of laughter and cheers which quickly dissipated into a silence of anticipation. "Thanks for coming," I said, drawing some more laughs. Nobody knew what was going on.

The faces in the crowd were too small for me to properly make out from the middle of the pitch. It was an anonymous sea of expectancy. I nevertheless fixed on those small, round faces as I spoke.

"We probably don't have long," I continued. I waved down to the guards, still standing on the pitch. "Those two guys are giving us a moment to talk. They'll probably be punished for that, later. Sorry, guys." I shifted from foot to foot, and cleared my throat. "Listen, there's too much to explain right now. Here's what you need to know: we're going to change the world, you and I."

There was a cautious cheer from somewhere in the stadium, which wasn't taken up by anybody else, prompting some laughter. But something new was happening at the periphery of my vision. A new bunch of uniformed people were appearing out of the same gate we'd come from. This time they were clad in blue riot gear and were pretty much ready for anything, unlike those two hapless guys that had tried to stop us before. They formed up into a line, batons at the ready, shields on arms, and began marching slowly but surely across the grass towards the stage. It was going to get nasty unless we bugged out fast.

That's when it happened. There was a shout, and a group of sports fans a little way along the stands leapt up from their seats and vaulted over the wall, running full pelt onto the pitch and intercepting the security team, positioning themselves right between them and us. There were more boos, although somewhat hesitant.

When it really kicked off was when one of the riot guards hit a supporter with his baton, knocking him to the ground. At that point, the stands exploded, masses of people rising from their seats and storming the pitch. I couldn't say whether they were actively showing us their support, reacting against one of their own being hit or simply looking for a fight. Either way, suddenly we were the least of the security force's problems.

"Meet us in Perlyn," I shouted above the ruckus. "Time to be confirmed. Watch the news."

And we were gone, returned to a nondescript suburban street somewhere on Red.

The plane continued its journey around the globe, taking us back to Cord.

"The mood's shifting," Cal said. "People are starting to believe."

"Don't believe your own hype, Cal," Marv said. "They're intrigued. They want to know more. Plus security guards at a game never go down well. That doesn't mean they're ready to trust you."

"Are you?"

Marv stared back at Cal. Neither of us had broached the entoma-mind-manipulation topic yet. We should have, but we'd been putting it off. Truth was that we needed Cal more than he needed us. "Well, I'm slow to trust," Marv said.

We sat in silence on the approach to Cord, as we dropped down into the late-afternoon sun and settled onto the runway. A short hop in an air taxi later and we were back in the centre of the city, on the grand plaza where both our hotel and the World Council's headquarters were located. The plaza was enormous, dotted with fountains and market stalls and open-air entertainments.

"We've got twenty-four hours until our next trip," Cal said. "I've got to feed back to the council, but I suggest you both get some rest."

"For someone who hated the idea of authority you're pretty chummy with these council guys and gals," Marv noted.

"This particular authority is on my side," Cal said. "They're a resource."

"You just remember that when they ask something of you in return," Marv said.

"We're all tired," I said, cutting them both off. "Let's have this discussion after I've had some sleep, alright?"

I saw Cal stiffen and fall to the floor before I even heard the gunshot. His blood actually splashed over my face and trickled down my top.

"You shouldn't be so open about what you're doing," said Holt, arm still outstretched and holding some kind of smoking, makeshift weapon. "This place," he continued, waving the gun at aghast and terrified passersby, "it's so free and open and honest. Sharing everything you're doing: it's naive. If you want to change things, the last thing you do is shout about it. Because people like me will always find you, and stop you."