the prequel chronicles: trey & trent

The Prequel Chronicles

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Trey & Trent

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Part One: International Space Station, 2098

Trent opened his eyes. He transition from sleep to wide away within a heartbeat. But he remained still. The room was dark and his unseeing eyes stared up at the ceiling, which he knew to be no more than two feet above his face.

He hadn’t truly been asleep. It had been a long, restless night. A night of attempting to lie as still as possible, but being unable to resist glances at the clock. It had been one of the longest nights of his life.

But it wasn’t over yet.He listened intently to the sounds around him. To the casual

observer, there was nothing but silence. But Trent listened harder. There was the dull, ever-constant hum of the ISS all around him. You could get so used to it that you’d forget it was there. But he could hear it as clearly as anything. For the last time.

Then there was the gentle breathing of his brother beneath him. Trent couldn’t see a thing, and he didn’t even try to look, but he could tell from the slow, rhythmic breaths that Trey was fast asleep.

He’d been training his body for a month to wake up like this. No alarm. No physical intervention. Just his natural sleep cycle abruptly ending at exactly the right time.

3am.

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Slowly, with every muscle in his body tensed in anticipation, he sat up and let the springs beneath him adjust without squeaking. Then he slid his legs and let them drop over the edge of the bunk bed. The metal frame was cold against his bare skin, but he barely noticed, such was the level of his concentration.

The next part was the hardest. The bed frame creaked slightly as Trent pushed his weight onto the bar and very, very gently lowered himself to the floor. His bare toes touched the linoleum and with all the grace of a ballerina’s footsteps, he tiptoed across the room to their small bathroom.

He couldn’t help the automatic light coming on, but he’d practiced it so many times now so that he could slip in and avoid the sensor until he was inside and the door was shut.

Trent stared at himself in the mirror for a few moments. He’d had his hair cut yesterday and the tight black curls were cropped very close to his head. His eyes were alert; round and focused. He was clean shaven and his dark skin glinted in the light above the mirror.

He dressed robotically after a brief wash. The final touch was his shoes. He opted for discreet, black trainers over the clunky magnet boots. It was a requirement to wear the ugly, magnetized footwear for work. But Trent wasn’t going to work. He’d never work again. Not at the Space Port, at least.

The trainers smothered his footsteps as he stepped back into the main room. The light from the bathroom spilled out for a few seconds as he slipped through the door. He closed it shut behind him and stood perfectly still.

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He could no longer hear Trey’s rhythmic breathing. Before his brain could register the slight sense of panic, and before his heart began racing, the light in the room came on. Trey stood before the front door. His arms were folded tightly across his chest and his face wore an expression of severe disapproval.

‘Trey’ Trent gasped softly. ‘You startled me’.‘Sorry about that’ Trey replied insincerely. ‘Did you honestly

think I hadn’t noticed you getting up at 3am every night for the past month?’

Trent looked around for a reason. ‘I needed the toilet’.Trey couldn’t help but smile. ‘You’re fully dressed. Shoes

and all!’Trent shifted from foot-to-foot guiltily. ‘My feet get chilly…’They both snorted with laughter.‘Trent, I’m your twin. You should know nothing gets past me.

Where are you going?’‘How did you know I was going anywhere tonight?’ Trent

quizzed. ‘Why have you never gotten up before?’‘I saw you put a change of clothes in the bathroom before

you got into bed’ Trey answered. ‘I told you, nothing gets past me’.

Trent’s shoulders drooped and his posture slumped a little. Part of him – a tiny part – had hoped that his twin would wake up and stop him. But a bigger part had wished against it. It would be easier – easier to go and never come back – if Trey had just stayed asleep. It had never been part of the plan for Trey to have any awareness about Trent’s intentions. In fact, the plan revolved around Trey not knowing.

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‘Well?’Trent looked up; unaware that he’d been lost in thought.

‘Well what?’‘Where are you going?!’ Trey demanded. He was a little

more exasperated now. There was a hint of desperation in his voice, and his face was etched with concern.

‘Trey, I –’‘No’ Trey interrupted, shaking his head adamantly. ‘You

don’t get to dismiss me like you always do. Not this time. Where are you going at 3am?! Why have you got a bag packed underneath my bed?’

Trent’s heart broke a little. He could see it happen to Trey too. His brother’s anguish was burning in his eyes. He struggled to hold his lips still and his chin was trembling slightly.

‘I’m sorry’ was all that Trent could manage.Trey shook his head and a tear escaped. He batted it away

and cleared his throat. ‘Not good enough’ he said angrily. ‘Not nearly good enough’.

Trent heaved a big breath. He could feel himself tearing in two. He wanted to tell Trey everything, with all his heart. But he’d stuck it out this long – all these years he’d known this day would have to come. Through everything they’d been through, Trent had kept his silence. How could he let himself fall at the final hurdle? The biggest hurdle of all.

‘You have to trust me on this’.Trey shook his head before Trent had even finished the

sentence. ‘You’re going to have to try harder than that’.

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Trent gritted his teeth. ‘When have I ever given you reason not to trust me?’ He knew that Trey had no response to this. He’d only ever been honest with his brother. Always. Except for this.

‘Just give me a reason to trust you now’ Trey said strictly. ‘Tell me – reassure me – and I’ll step aside’.

Trent thought long and hard. He thought back over their 18 years of life together and all the moments they’d shared: the hard times, and the times tougher beyond those.

‘Khartoum’ he said finally. ‘Khartoum, Wadi Halfa and Lake Nubia’.

Trey’s eyes widened as the words fell from Trent’s lips. In an instant he was transported back there. Without so much as a conscious effort to do so, he found himself in the shoes of his ten-year-old self…

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Part Two: Khartoum, Sudan 2090

The driver of the battered old bus stomped his foot down on the accelerator. Black fumes chugged into the stiff, hot air behind them and mingled with the dust kicked up by the wheels. As the rickety vehicle crossed the tricky terrain they were thrown from side-to-side and bounced up and down.

Around them, the bleak and desolate sandy city declined into long-forgotten suburbs, before disappearing into the haze behind them to become nothing but a bump on the horizon.

‘I’m thirsty, mother’. Trey was only ten, but he understood the importance of preserving their precious stock of water for the twelve hour journey that lay ahead of them. He’d been thirsty for a long time, and he’d left it as long as possible before asking.

‘Here’ Samuel – their American companion – leant forward from the seat behind them and offered his own water. Trey accepted it gratefully and took a delicate sip before passing it back.

Trey then snuggled closer to his mother, with Trent on the other side doing the same. To say they were crammed onto the bus was an understatement. Trey and Trent were fortunate enough to be sharing a two-seat space with their mother, but Samuel was occupying the same amount of space with two full-grown adults behind them. The heat was unbearable, and not made any better by the setting sun.

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Despite the sheer volume of people, the bus was filled by silence. They were refugees, escaping across the country in hope of a better quality of life in the Cairo Sphere. No one wanted to so much as speak, should they jeopardise their journey.

With every vehicle that passed them by, there was an audible intake of breath. Tension saturated the air. Any of them might be filled with militia soldiers, ready to attack the bus of refugees to take what they could. Lately, the militia men sought only safe passage to Cairo for themselves, which they hoped to achieve by hiding amongst families who were too scared to reveal their true identity.

At some point, Trey and Trent had managed to fall asleep. When they awoke, it was because the momentum of the bus was stopping. A survival instinct flared up, and they were awake instantly. Outside the bus was total darkness. Only the light of the stars, and a small slither of moon, cast any light over the vast, expansive desert plain around them.

The driver was stopping to give his passengers a rest break. They filed slowly out of the bus and scattered out across the desert to do their business in relative privacy.

‘Go quickly, now’ their mother ushered them into the darkness, looking around her all the while.

‘Wait’ Samuel whispered urgently, and pulled the boys towards him. He wrapped their black shawls tighter around them. ‘If anyone sees your sun suits, they will rob you for them’ he warned, hiding the special, UV protective garments he had

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stolen from his school for them. ‘They are very precious. Be very careful’.

Both of the boys nodded before dashing into the darkness.‘Thank you’ their mother placed a weary hand on Samuel’s

arm and smiled weakly. Her tough, black skin was cracked with dryness, and there were deep, cavernous wrinkles around her eyes. She had her hair cut short – shorter than Samuel’s – in effort to defy the stifling heat. Beneath the rags of clothes that were heaped upon her, she was dangerously thin and frail. She often walked with support, leaning on Samuel’s strong, young frame.

‘You’ve been so good to me, Imani’ Samuel smiled. It was hard to see by the light of the stars, but his eyes were aglow with genuine thanks.

‘You taught my boys’ she answered. ‘You helped me raise them. And my goodness did they love that goat’.

Both of them laughed at the thought of the poor goat they’d left behind. Trey and Trent had adored the little thing but when they’d decided to leave for Cairo, the goat had had to remain behind.

There was a sudden flash of headlights on the horizon. Imani and Samuel were instantly alert. It was impossible to see what was coming their way, but by the growing brightness of light, it was coming quickly.

‘Trey, Trent!’ Imani called frantically, looking wildly into the desert abyss. ‘Quickly, boys, on the bus!’

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All around them, everyone was rushing to get back onto the bus. There was a huge panic and a frantic scramble at the bus’ doors.

‘Where are they?!’ Imani asked, horror beginning to rise up within her gut. It made her feel sick. Samuel was calling for them now, but they were nowhere to be seen.

‘Mother! Samuel!’ The boys appeared behind them. Imani and Samuel each grabbed one of them and dragged them to the doors of the bus. They were the last to get on and, as a result, no longer had the seats they had before.

‘On the floor!’ the driver yelled at them. Samuel ushered Imani and the two boys onto the floor of the bus. The driver brought the engine to life and the bus rumbled slowly into life. But now the headlights were flooding into the bus. The vehicles had caught up to them, and they were making no effort to go past them.

Imani’s heart sank. She looked glumly up at Samuel. His expression was bleak.

One of the vehicles – an open-back truck carrying a hoard of militia men – roared past and moved in front of the bus. It slowed down and braked sharply, forcing the bus to do the same.

Machine guns suddenly chattered. Unquenchable screams came from all over the bus.

Trey and Trent whimpered softly and Imani held them tightly in her arms. ‘It’s okay. We’ll be okay’ she whispered to them. If the rumours were true about militia activity, then she knew what would happen next. She looked at Samuel, feeling almost guilty

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for what was to come. Guilty for being the one that would survive.

His face was ghostly white, his eyes wide with fear. He couldn’t take his eyes off the doors of the bus. By the light of the headlights, he could see silhouettes against the glass doors, just waiting to burst in.

Slowly he took off the thin, light green scarf from around his neck and stooped down to wrap it around Trey. It would help to keep dust out of his mouth and nose, should the wind pick up as they crossed the desert. It was still another six hundred kilometers to Wadi Halfa, on the edge of Lake Nubia. But Samuel knew he wouldn’t be needing it himself.

The doors of the bus were knocked in and frantic shouting filled the bus. The passengers all screamed and cowered whilst men with guns stormed in and pointed their weapons wildly. They began grabbing men from their seats; tearing them away from their desperate children and sobbing wives.

‘Who are you with?’ One of them men appeared in front of Samuel and demanded of him. Samuel remained defiantly silent. ‘Who?!’ the man demanded in his thick, African accent.

When Samuel again refused to answer the militia man struck him with his gun. Imani cried out. The militia man smiled.

‘Her, is it?’ he asked and Samuel turned his face away. Imani saw there was a large cut on his cheek that was bleeding badly. He’d need stitches, for certain. She wished she could help him.

The militia man suddenly grabbed Samuel and dragged him off the bus.

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‘No!’ Imani screamed. Trey and Trent reached out for their American companion but they were hastily picked up and thrown onto one of the now vacant seats beside the window.

The militia finished pulling the men off the bus. They took twenty men in total. After a few moments of protest beyond the doors of the bus, there came the sound of twenty, final gunshots.

Imani sobbed and clutched Trey and Trent close to her.After what felt like hours, but was in fact just minutes, the

militia man who had taken Samuel placed himself on the seat behind Imani, Trey and Trent. With the machine gun slung over his shoulder, he stretched out his arms and reached around to hold the three of them.

‘I am Talib’ he told them, pressing his face against Imani’s a kissing her on the cheek. The three of them could smell his putrid scent. It made Imani’s stomach churn and her gut heave. ‘We are a family now’.

The bus rumbled into life and rolled slowly forward on its journey. As the sun came up in the early hours, the blood stains on the window became clear to see. Imani swallowed the lump in her throat and held Trey and Trent’s heads down.

* * *

After their next stop, Trey and Trent – along with all the other children on the bus – were separated from their mothers and forced to the back of the bus for the rest of the journey. The

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militia men took their places and draped their arms over the women as if they possessed them.

Trey and Trent watched with a mixture of fear and fury. Their mother squirmed uncomfortably and every time she did so, the man at her side pulled at her tightly and shouted angrily.

‘No, Trent’ Trey held his brother’s arm tightly. His fists had curled up into tight balls and he’d started to rise to his feet. He’d always had a bit of a short fuse, and had often been quick to temper at school. But Trey knew that this was different. If Trent kicked off in this environment, he’d likely end up dead in an instant.

‘We can’t just let him take her’ Trent growled. He settled back down next to Trey. Trey turned his dark eyes to the window. They fell upon a scattering of square blocks on the horizon. They looked so tiny and insignificant from where they were on the bus that Trey disregarded them almost instantly. But when the road turned towards it and it grew larger in size, Trey realised that it must be Wadi Halfa – their destination.

Another hour further and the bus was rolling slowly through the desolate and dust-ridden streets. The buildings all seemed incomplete; missing roofs or entire walls, with clusters of people clinging to the precious remains as if their lives depended on it.

Mixed in with the charcoal-black faces of the natives were those of the chalky white westerners. Trey and Trent might have been surprised to see them here, in the middle of hostile-Africa. But almost every person in the western world had fled to East Africa and the Middle East – the only place left in the world with any trace of an ozone layer. It was nothing but an invisible, thin

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veil far above their heads, but scientists could detect it nowhere else on the planet. Though very soon, it would be gone entirely and even this place would not be safe.

The bus drove on through the wide, empty streets until the sorry-excuse of a city was behind them, and the shores of Lake Nubia lay before them. A port – if it could be call a port – was ahead of them. It was nothing more than half a dozen makeshift jetties reaching out into the lake. Boats were crammed alongside all of them and a huge crowd of people completely surrounded all six. It seemed that everyone was looking to get a boat to Cairo. It was simply chaotic.

The wheels of the bus stopped abruptly and the passengers were thrown forward. The crowd around the boats had suddenly swelled to block the path of the coach.

‘No further’ the replacement driver called out hesitantly. It was clear that he hadn’t wanted to speak up in the presence of the hostile militia. He stood nervously at the front of the bus, looking down at everyone. As soon as the men began to get to their feet, Trent saw the driver fling the doors open and run for his life. In an instant the driver was swallowed up in the crowd.

‘Up, up, up!’ one of the men shouted at the two of them and the other children. He batted at them with his shirt until they got up.

‘I have an idea’ Trent gripped his brother’s arm tightly. He glanced at Trey as they shuffled down the bus and saw a familiar sparkling in his eyes. He knew there and then that he’d had the same idea.

‘You saw the driver?’ Trey asked, to which Trent nodded.

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They were both small for their age; two skinny black children. If their driver could vanish into the crowd then so could they.

‘What about mother?’ They might be nimble and quick themselves, but Imani’s days of running were far behind her.

Trent shrugged. ‘We have to try’ and Trey nodded resolutely.

The two of them surged forward. They ducked and dived between people’s legs until their mother was directly in front of them. The militia man who’d taken possession of her was walking beside her, distractedly talking to one of his friends.

They took a step down and their hearts began to pound in unison. Trent swallowed heavily and looked to Trey for encouragement. He nodded sternly. Another step. Another beat.

‘Now’ Trent whispered. He grabbed his mother by the rags she wore. ‘Run!’ he urged her. The militia man turned and as he span, Trey delivered a punch to his groin. Trey was only weak; ten years old and borderline malnourished, but it didn’t take much to cripple the militia man. He groaned and crumpled. Before he could look up from where he knelt on the ground, Imani and her boys were gone.

* * *

‘Don’t slow down’ Trey begged his mother as they dragged her by both hands. She was crying with relief and sobbing with every step.

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‘My boys’ she mumbled between sniffs. ‘My boys saved me’ she was smiling in spite of the tears. Happy tears, Trey realised.

The crowd was surrounding them now and they were completely immersed. As they barged through people shouted, cursed and complained. But ultimately they were too wrapped up in their own cares to pay them much attention once they’d gone by.

‘Stop, stop’ their mother insisted once she had calmed down. She pulled them both to her side and crouched down next to them. ‘I am so proud of you two. You are going to grow up to be very strong, brave men and you will fill me with pride’ she looked up and around. They’d pass through to the other side of the crowd and the militia men were no longer anywhere in sight. ‘We must try to get to Cairo now’.

Simon had bought them passes for the boat that they were supposed to take, but it would too risky to go on it now. Imani imagined that the militia men who’d raided their bus would be boarding that boat. There had to be another way.

‘We could sneak on’ Trent suggested, nodding towards a designated staff area for workers that served the collection of boats in the port. There were captains and first officers for the larger boats, and many rookie captains for the smaller, unofficial vessels. Amongst them were the staff who helped in the running of the ship; engine maintenance, cleaning staff and deck hands.

Imani couldn’t deny that it was a good idea. ‘I will try and find us a way’ she told them firmly. ‘Wait here and I will sneak over there. When you see me beckon you over, come as calmly as

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you can. Look like you know where you’re going. If you run, you will get noticed and they will catch you. Do you understand?’

Trey and Trent nodded and settled down in the shade of a large dustbin. It was overflowing with waste and whilst the stench was terrible, the shade was too enticing. They clung to the shadow as if their lives depended on it, not only for the reprieve from the heat but to hide.

A small entourage of men went past and the two of them huddled even smaller against the bin. They walked in a circular formation – six of them – with a small man in light, khaki colours in the middle. Trey couldn’t help his curiosity and as he leant forward for a better view, he made direct eye contact with the man.

His slender, Asian eyes locked onto him.Trey gasped and Trent pulled him back. But it was too late.The entourage of men suddenly surrounded them and

parted to reveal the man in the middle. He wore a beige suit over a cool, white cotton shirt. He had a thick mop of black hair, combed efficiently over to one side.

He took a step closer to Trey and Trent and peered down at them.

‘Twins’ he whispered under his breath. ‘Sir?’ one of the men asked.The suited man held up a hand for silence. He stared down

at the two boys as if he was amazed by the sight of them. He leaned forward and a small smile stretched over his thin, pale lips.

‘What are your names?’ he asked.

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Trey looked at Trent and they both tried to peer around for anyone that might help them. But the men entirely blocked their view.

‘It’s okay, I won’t hurt you’ he assured them. Even though he was a stranger, there was something genuine about him. There was a kindness in his eyes that the two of them had not seen in a stranger before. At least, not since Samuel first joined their family. ‘Where are you going?’

‘Cairo’ Trent said quietly.The man’s smile seemed to broaden. ‘I can help you get

there. Do you have a ticket for one of the boats?’Trey and Trent shook their heads in unison.‘Come, come with me’ he ushered for them to stand, offering

them his hand. Trey and Trent stared at his open palm hesitantly.

‘Our mother’ Trent said. ‘We’re waiting for our mother’.The man faltered a little. But his smile remained. ‘Where is

she?’Trent pointed towards the employee zone. Trey remained

tight-lipped. He was happy for his brother to do all the talking. He usually was.

‘We will get her. I promise’ the Asian man’s hand extended towards them once again. After a few seconds of hesitance, Trent took hold of it.

There was a sudden commotion by the edge of the large crowd. The men that surrounded the two of them parted and Trent could see a small cluster of militia men looking wildly

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around. Leading them was Talib – the man who’d replaced Samuel.

His dark, beady eyes locked onto the two of them. He waved his arm, gesturing for the men to follow him, and marched right towards them.

Trey and Trent grabbed hold of one another and cowered behind the Asian man. He looked down at them, confused. But before he could ask them anything, the militia men were upon them. They raised their guns at the group around the twins. In a flash the entourage whipped out hand guns from inside their jackets.

‘Lower your weapons’ Talib spat viciously. ‘Give us the boys. I am their father’.

‘Why would a father reclaim his sons using violence?’ the Asian man challenged. He was the only one – besides Trey and Trent – in the fray that wasn’t armed.

Talib didn’t like the challenge. He bared his teeth in a primitive growl and shook his gun emphatically. ‘Give them to me’.

‘He is not our father’ Trent spoke up, tugging on the Asian man’s trousers to get his attention. ‘He killed our friend then tried to kidnap us and our mother’.

‘I’ll give you one chance to turn around and walk away’ the Asian man threatened coolly. He looked at Talib expectantly. ‘This is that chance’.

‘I swear if you do not give me the boys I will –’

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The Asian man gave a slight nod of his head. One of his men fired and Talib fell down, mid-sentence. He cried out and clutched his knee.

The other militia men recoiled.‘Next time it’s your head. Does anyone else wish to

challenge me?’The militia men scrambled to pick Talib up and together they

ran away into the crowd.‘Come now, let’s get your mother and get you on a boat’ he

walked with Trey and Trent on either side of him, with his arms around them.

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Part Three: International Space Station, 2098

‘What about it?’ Trey asked, pulling himself back to the present. He shook his head, to shake off the memories. It was only in nightmares that he found himself back there, never by choice. They were not times he wanted to remember. Especially with what had happened next.

‘You trusted me then’ Trent replied stiffly.‘You? We trusted him’.Trent looked at his brother darkly. ‘Then trust him now’.Trey was shocked. ‘He’s still here?’Trent nodded awkwardly and braced himself for an

onslaught of questions. But the questions didn’t come.‘I want to be a part of it’ Trey said instead.Trent sighed heavily. ‘I don’t think you thought back hard

enough’.‘What?’ Trey demanded, growing angry now. ‘What is it you

want to me to take from these memories?’

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Part Four: The River Nile, 2090

The surface of the water was as still and smooth as glass. Not even the slightest breeze stirred a single wave as the bow of the boat cut through it like a hot knife to butter. The sun was high in the sky, roasting their skin inside their sun suits.

‘Cover up’ their mother ushered hurriedly upon seeing that their sun suits were exposed. ‘You heard what Samuel said. People will kill you for those’.

Trey thought about complaining – about the heat, about the cramped conditions on the deck of the ship – but he knew they were lucky to simply be on board. He’d heard his mother use an expression about being squashed like a can of sardines once, but he’d never really grasped that idea until now. He couldn’t so much as breath without expanding a few centimetres and squashing up against the person beside him. Or behind him. Or in front of him.

They sat in the middle of the front deck, surrounded on all sides by people all squashed and packed in together. It was surprising that the boat was able to stay afloat, as crowded as it was.

After sneaking them on board the previous day, the Asian man who’d saved them from Talib had disappeared into the bowels of the boat and they’d not seen him since.

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‘I didn’t even get to thank him’ their mother said periodically, shaking her head with tears glistening in her eyes. ‘I am so grateful to that man. There’s no way I could have snuck us on board by myself. We owe him our lives, boys, never forget that’.

As night fell and the heat of the sun was replaced by the emanating cool of the moon, Trey huddled closer to his mother and brother and attempted to sleep. The night was filled with the stifled cries and whimpers of children all around them. That and the gentle crashing waves as the boat cut through the silent water.

He was roughly woken in the early hours. The sun was slowly bleeding from below the horizon; throwing up shades of orange and red into the navy blue sky.

‘Mum?’ he questioned wearily as tight-gripping hands shook him awake. He stirred groggily and as he awakened he realised that the hands were not shaking him awake, but attempting to remove his protective UV clothing.

‘Mum!’ he shouted. Immediately the people around him were awake. A hand struck him across the face and stars flashed across his vision.

‘Get off him!’ he heard his mother screaming. Somehow a space had been cleared around the three of

them. It was difficult for Trey to tell what was going on – he was still reeling from the blow. Another person was wrestling Trent for his UV sun suit. Their mother was flailing wildly between the two of them as two men grappled with her. A hundred eyes sat staring around them – not a single pair of them moving to help.

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There was a sudden flash and one of the men assaulting their mother yelled in agony. His body jerked as thousands of volts caused havoc with his nervous system. He stumbled across the deck and the spectators all parted away from him. He reached the edge of the ship and, still convoluting wildly from the shock, toppled over the rail and splashed into the water.

Upon seeing this, the men stopped wrestling with Trey and Trey and turned on their mother.

‘Stay back’ she warned, brandishing the electric taser. The Asian man must have given it to her into order to protect them. One of them men lunged towards her. She jabbed at him with the taser. There was a loud crack, accompanied by another flash, and the man dropped to the deck, writhing in pain.

One of the two remaining men managed to grab her from behind. The other men grabbed her legs and lifted her up as she screamed and shouted. The man behind her grabbed her arm and moved the taser closer and closer to her neck. She wasn’t strong enough to resist.

The taser made contact with her skin and fired thousands of volts into her. Her body jolted. Her legs straightened involuntarily and she struck the man at her feet. The impact knocked him away and propelled her and the man holding her backwards. He stumbled, tripped and together they plunged over the side of the boat.

‘NO!’ Trey screamed. ‘MUM!’ There was a muted splash. The man on the deck who’d

been kicked got up and looked about. With his comrades

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overboard, he abandoned the attack and disappeared into the boat.

‘Mum’ Trey sobbed. Trent reached out and pulled his brother close. All Trey wanted was to stop the boat and go back. But it would take them too long to get to the captain of the ship, and he probably wouldn’t even listen to them anyway. No one listened to the refugees – from the captain of this boat to the men in power up in space. They were all ignored. As a single, young boy, Trent’s efforts could make no difference.

‘Ssh’ Trent soothed, rocking Trey.The crowd slowly eased back into position; though this time

they left a little bit of space around the two boys mourning the loss of their mother.

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Part Five: The International Space Station,

2098

The memories only made him angrier. They left a bitter taste in his mouth, like the food in the canteen on a Thursday. Thursdays always had bad food. But this went deeper than that. He felt dirty, from the pores of his skin to his beating heart. It was almost like guilt – guilt that he had not done more, or tried to help. Guilt at the way he’d just watched as the men had overwhelmed and stole their mother from them.

‘Okay, so we owe him’ Trey said through gritted teeth. His legs were growing tired, but he refused to move from in front of the door. ‘He saved our lives. But he didn’t save hers’.

Trent sighed heavily, as if they’d had this conversation before. Which they had. Many times. ‘Mum wouldn’t hold it against him; that he wasn’t there to save her. He was just a kind stranger’.

‘Then what is he now?’ Trey challenged. ‘I’m assuming he’s not just suddenly appeared to you out of the blue?’ As he spoke, and as he saw Trent’s face in response to what he said, Trey realised that Trent had been keeping secrets. Somehow. Trey hadn’t thought it possible and he hated himself for being so naïve.

‘How long have you been talking to him for?’ Trey asked. His voice was quieter now and a lot less angry. His chest was

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beginning to ache and as much as he didn’t want to admit that his feelings were hurt, he couldn’t help but show it. ‘Why have you left me out?’

‘Since Cairo’ Trent mumbled guiltily.‘Since…’ Trey staggered in disbelief. ‘The orphanage. Since

then?’Trent nodded ruefully.

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Part Six: Cairo, Egypt. 2090

The orphanage was friendly enough. It was overcrowded and fit to burst with former street urchins that had been taken in from the struggling city. In fact, struggling was the wrong adjective to use. Trey had heard the orphanage master say that Cairo was failing. It was on its last legs and no one knew how much longer the city could be sustained with its current number of inhabitants.

‘The Spheres were designed for one million people’ Trent explained one evening as the two of them sat on the orphanage rooftop. The city was spread out before them: a sprawling mass of flat rooftops, punctuated by minarets. The orphanage was in the old Citadel. It was an ancient and picturesque part of the city, and rather detached from the hubbub of Cairo itself. The new city centre was a few miles north-west.

They’d been at the orphanage for just over two weeks, and had already been enrolled by the orphanage master in a local school. The orphanage master was a kind man who went by the name of Donkor. He was almost too kind – relentlessly taking in children even when he was at capacity. ‘But Cairo has almost a million and a half people’.

Trey continued drawing shapes in the sand that covered the rooftop. There was sand everywhere in Cairo. Every time the panels of the Sphere opened in the west to permit entrance or

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exit to the Sphere, huge gusts of wind laden with sand would sweep across the city.

‘That’s why people are fighting’ Trent went on. He knew that Trey had heard it all before – they’d been in the same classroom when their teacher had told them – but Trent enjoyed regurgitating the information, and there was no one else to tell. Most of the other children in the orphanage spoke Arabic, which neither of them understood. Now that their mother was no longer with them, they often spoke English. ‘Cairo’s City Guard is struggling to keep people under control. There are rebel factions that are trying to reduce the population. But that’s just basically mass murder’.

Trey nodded to show that he was listening. In the sand in front of him he’d drawn their old family home. It wasn’t much: just a single storey shack with small windows on a tiny plot of land. But it had been home. He’d loved the way it was slightly wonky, as if affected by the wind, and the way the wooden building creaked during a storm but kept them safe regardless.

Almost as if to illustrate Trent’s words about violence in the city, there was a sudden explosion. A fist of fire punched into the sky and the shockwave caused the two of them to rock on their haunches. Under regular circumstances they would be horrified, in awe or frightened, which were all emotions they’d experienced upon seeing their first signs of fighting in Cairo. But now it was an everyday occurrence and they simply stared.

‘That isn’t far away’ Trent remarked, counting the rooftops between them and the explosion.

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‘The market street’ Trey realised. He thought of the hundreds of people crammed into the long, skinny street full of market vendors offering everything from clothes and food to ornaments and sentimental garbage. Trey found it odd how, even with the world on the brink of destruction, people still found place for trashy items in their lives.

‘Like I said, the activists want to reduce the population’ Trent sighed heavily.

‘They would care more if it were their own family and friends being killed’ Trey grumbled.

There was now gunfire echoing through the air, from the site of the explosion. Trey shook his head dismally and returned to looking at his sand drawing.

‘Look!’ Trent cried suddenly. Trey looked up to see that he was pointing right up in the sky, almost directly above them. Trey covered the setting sun beyond the Sphere with his hand and looked up. The portal at the very pinnacle of the Sphere was open and one of the new, modern space vehicles was lowering into Cairo’s air space.

‘It’s a Craft!’ Trey admired, totally captivated by the sight of the descending spacecraft. He’d never seen one before – only in pictures. It was…beautiful. The bottom of it was glowing blue from the engines that blasted out energy to steadily lower it. The amber glow of the setting sun glinted off its shiny surface, as if to highlight just how new it was. When it reached an altitude of one hundred-or-so metres above the city, it suddenly zoomed away in the direction of the Cairo City Authority.

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‘Wow’ Trent muttered breathlessly. ‘I think I’d love to live on one of those’.

Trey scoffed. ‘Don’t be stupid. It’d be tiny inside!’‘Well I think it would be fun’ Trent responded defiantly. The violence over on the market street suddenly appeared

to intensify. The gunfire rose in volume and there was a series of smaller explosions.

‘We should go inside’ Trent decided and Trey followed him without question.

It had been the market that was bombed. Not only had the news spread through Cairo throughout the next day, but when Trey and Trent had come to pass through it on their way to school, they found it impassable. There was nothing left of the former market, just piles of smoldering rubble strewn with tattered fabrics and aspects of its former life. Now it was just another dead street in Cairo.

It took them longer to get to school that day, and longer to get back to the orphanage. Donkor didn’t like the children in his care to be out too late, and he was especially tetchy when they returned half an hour later than usual.

‘We had to go a new way’ Trent explained. It was often Trent that spoke up on behalf of them both. He’d grown more comfortable than Trey in the company of others. Trey still preferred it when it was just the two of them alone.

‘It’s okay, it’s okay’ Donkor ushered them along the narrow hallway, to where it opened up and a tall winding staircase zig-zagged upward to the fifth floor. ‘Go to your rooms and freshen

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up. Put on your nicest clothes. We have a visitor arriving very shortly who wants to see all of the children’.

Trent and Trey exchanged bewildered glances before dashing up the stairs to do as Donkor had asked them. Upon their arrival, Donkor had collated a range of clothes in their size and given them to the boys as a welcoming gift. It really was remarkable how much he could offer them and the other children given the circumstances.

After selecting what they deemed to be their finest clothes, they ran back down the stairs and joined all the other children that were doing the same. Everyone was babbling excitedly.

They gathered in the main room of the house: a long, relatively narrow room that was usually occupied by a long table at which they all ate together. But the table had been pushed against the wall and Donkor instructed all of them to line up neatly.

‘What is it for?’ Trent asked one of the female staff members, but she hushed him and went about straightening his shirt before moving onto the next child.

‘Children!’ Donkor announced, walking into the room proudly with a flourishing gesture towards the door. ‘This is Mr. Takeshi Sato’.

Trey and Trent gasped in recognition of the Asian man who’d saved their lives in Wadi Halfa. They hadn’t seen him since he’d smuggled them onto boat. They both instantly wondered if he knew about their mother’s death. Or if he’d bothered to investigate what their own fate had been.

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‘He is a member of the Board of Officials and we are very honoured to have him here in this household’ Donkor beamed as Mr. Sato entered the room and cast his eyes over all of the children.

‘I have been touring all of the orphanages in Cairo, and I have a very special offer for some young people’ Mr. Sato slowly explained as he started to stroll along the row of children. A woman – presumably his assistant – walked alongside him with a Tablet computer poised, ready to take notes. ‘The Board of Officials is selecting individuals to refresh and replenish the population of young people aboard the International Space Station and MoonBase1’.

The atmosphere in the room suddenly shifted and there was a silent buzz of excitement. Being relieved of poverty through Donkor in his orphanage was one thing, but to be taken up into space was altogether unimaginable.

Mr. Sato reached Trey and Trent in the line of children. They could see that, despite his best efforts not to react to his recognition, his eyes widened a little in delight.

‘Twins’ he whispered under his breath. His assistant made her first note.

‘We are offering a life in space, aboard one of our facilities. It will be very different to life on Earth but it is our hope that, one day, we might be able to offer this opportunity to everyone on Earth’.

Donkor was standing at the opposite end of the room to Takeshi now and still holding his broad, proud smile. Takeshi reached the end of the line of children and turned back. As he

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turned, his eyes skimmed once again over Trey and Trent, before coming to rest on Donkor. ‘You have wonderful children, sir. Please, let us discuss matters in another room. I’m sure the children have plenty to be keeping themselves busy with’.

Part Seven: The International Space Station,

2098

‘Takeshi picked us’ Trent said. He’d known what Trey was thinking. He’d been thinking it himself – remembering those short-lived days in the vibrant, dying Egyptian city. ‘He picked us, because he wanted to preserve the twin genome. Or at least that’s what he told us to start with. What he told Donkor and the other members of the Board’.

‘Well what’s the truth then?’ Trey wondered.

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Trent shook his head. ‘I have to go, Trey. I’m already running behind now’.

‘Tell me. Then you can go’.Trent shook his head again, with greater ferocity. ‘I can’t.

This has been kept from you to protect you’.‘Not good enough, Trent!’ Trey was on the verge of

shouting. He hadn’t been dragged through the whole experience of remembering horrific memories to get absolutely nothing from it.

‘Ask yourself why we’re never seen out together’ Trent said, pushing the boundaries of what he could get away with saying to him. ‘Think about it’.

Trey shook his head, only confused even more. ‘No, Trent. Explain to me. That’s not a proper explanation’.

‘It will have to be’ Trent said, growing impatient. ‘You’ll find out soon enough, I’m sure. Takeshi needs you’.

‘Well if Takeshi needs me he can come and bloody explain why you have to go away!’

Trent looked down. When he looked up again his eyes had gone dark, almost sinister. ‘Please, Trey. Let me go. You’ll know why, soon enough, but you have to let me go’.

‘No’ Trey replied.‘Please’.‘No’.‘You leave me no choice’ Trent whispered quietly. From the

jacket bundled in his arms he slowly pulled out something shaped roughly like a gun. Trey peered closer and saw that it

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was actually a taser. It looked a lot like the taser that had caused their mother’s death.

‘Is that…?’Trent nodded. ‘I found it on the deck after…after…’‘You wouldn’t dare’ Trey stammered, suddenly intimidated.

The feeling was uncomfortable and sickening. His brother should never make him feel this way.

‘Move then’.‘No’.Trent took a step towards him and Trey started to panic. He

want to run, to move and to challenge his brother. But by standing in the doorway he’d already backed himself into a corner.

‘Move’.‘No’.‘Move’.‘Please, Trent!’ Trey cried out as his brother got closer.

When he was in arm’s reach Trent stopped and stared at his twin. His eyes were pleading – begging. Despite his better instincts, Trey didn’t move.

Trent’s arm shot out and as the taser touched Trey’s skin and fired electricity through his body, everything went black.

He didn’t stay unconscious for very long, but when he awoke Trent was gone. Trey scrambled to his feet and roughly pulled on some clothes as he stumbled through the doorway into the wide Level3 hallway. It was totally empty at this time of night,

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except for a group of Security that was hurriedly walking towards him.

Trey braced himself but they passed right by as if he was invisible. As they went by, he caught a brief snippet of their conversation.

‘…disturbance down in the Space Port’ one of them uttered to the rest, and their pace quickened.

Trey suddenly knew where Trent was heading. He just hoped that he wasn’t intending to leave without him.

Trey avoided the main hallways and instead took a series of service corridors and stairways with restricted, maintenance access to quicken his journey to the space port. Trent knew the route too, and if Trey was going to catch up with him, he’d have to go the same way.

He dashed out of a door and found himself running across the tarmacked surface of the Space Port. There was row upon row of Craft lined up along the walls, whilst the central spot was kept clear for departing and arriving Craft. It was ghostly quiet. The oxygen shield shimmered slightly, tinting the Earth beyond it in a pale purple haze.

A sudden movement caught his attention across the forecourt. It was him.

‘TRENT!’ Trey bellowed at the top of his lungs. His voice resonated around the vast space and froze his brother still. He turned, just for a split second, and looked at his twin remorsefully. Then he carried on, breaking into the nearest Craft.

Trey broke into a run.

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The Craft suddenly fired up and began hovering above the ground; blasting hot air from underneath it.

‘STOP!’ Trey let the strangled cry erupt from his lips. But he knew it was no use. The Craft continued to back out of its space and turn towards the oxygen field.

The engines at the back of the Craft began to glow, purple at first but changing to a dazzling blue as the power accumulated. Then, as Trey got within metres of the Craft, the engines released their energy. The Craft shot forward, sending ripples through the oxygen field and blasting Trey backward off his feet.

‘No!’ Trey moaned through gritted teeth. Pain was coursing through his back but it was nothing compare to the aching in his chest. The betrayal. It was almost too much.

He got shakily to his feet. He could hear Security approaching; coming down the metal stairs in the main entranceway. He tried to run but his body was wrecked by the blowback from the Craft. At his very best, he could manage a limp jog.

He just reached the door to the service stairway and disappeared beyond it before the Guards could catch him.

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2099

It had taken a year. A whole year. The letter had lain under Trent’s mattress for a year without Trey even knowing. He’d been surprised that the Board of Officials hadn’t tried to put someone else in Trey’s room with him. Space wasn’t exactly unlimited on the ISS. If someone had moved in, the letter might have been found sooner.

Inside were directions. Reluctantly, Trey followed them. He’d written his twin off and resolved never to have anything to do with him. How could Trent abandon him like this? They’d been together all their lives – not just brothers, but a team. Overcoming everything together.

But with a year gone by, Trey could allow himself to be slightly more rational. He could only assume that Trent had thought Trey would find the letter sooner.

It took him to the end of the Level3 hallway, through a discreetly loosened panel and along a series of ventilation shafts to a totally unlit service corridor which ran behind the habitations on Level3.

He reached out blindly with his hands, taking slow and steady steps, until his fingers met with a solid end to the hallway. Before he gave up, he felt around and found a door handle. It opened up into a very unexpected place.

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Before him was a small, short narrow room. The only thing that occupied it was a stiff, uncomfortable-looking chair and a very old Earth-computer.

He approached it cautiously and switched it on. It seemed to take an age to boot up but when it finally did, a pulsing icon appeared on the screen. It was an incoming transmission.

Hesitantly, Trey hit the accept button and cautiously stepped back.

Trent’s face filled the screen. ‘Trey!’ he gasped. His eyes seemed to be instantly filled with tears of relief.

‘Hello’ Trey replied guardedly. He folded his arms sternly and tried to look disapproving. The truth was that his heart was racing with excitement. Despite all he’d told himself over the past year, he couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed at seeing his brother’s face again.

‘You found the letter?’ he asked.Trey nodded.‘You took your bloody time!’ he said, exasperated. ‘I was

worried’.‘You weren’t very worried when you tasered me’ Trey

sulked.‘You gave me no choice’ Trent replied, shaking his head.

‘But I am so sorry’.‘Why won’t Takeshi meet me?’ Trey demanded. ‘You told

me he would explain everything, but every time I try and contact him I’m just shut out’.

‘I asked that I be the one to explain everything to you’ Trent answered. ‘I’m so sorry you had to wait so long’.

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Trey snorted. ‘You’d better hurry up now then, I’m not prepared to wait much longer’.

‘Trey…’ Trent sighed sympathetically.‘I mean it, Trent’ Trey told him sternly. ‘You running away

from me like that, it broke…it broke me’.‘I’m so sorry’.‘Just…just tell me why’ Trey huffed. ‘Takeshi rescued us from Cairo, as you know’ Trent began.

‘But that came with a price…of sorts. It wasn’t a lie that Takeshi wanted twins on board the ISS in order to preserve the twin genetic trait. He also wanted them for his own purposes’.

‘What purposes?’‘Protective reasons’ Trent went on. ‘Not just for him

personally but…well. By having us, it was almost like an insurance policy. He spoke to me before we came to the ISS and told me that only one of us would receive an official identity. That way if he needed to call upon one of us, the other could fill in for the other’.

‘So he called upon you, did he?’ Trey asked sourly. He was bitter that he hadn’t been part of the plan. Why had Takeshi chosen Trent over him?

Trent nodded. ‘He needed an isolated transmission centre’.‘And that’s you?’‘I guess so, yeah’ Trent answered. ‘I can communicate

discreetly with the Spheres from Earth and because my location is always changing I can never be tracked’.

‘What do you communicate about?’

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‘Not a lot really’ Trent admitted sullenly. ‘But I think something is building. Takeshi’s spoken to me and voiced concerns about the Board’s growing control. They’re doing some things that are…quite disturbing’.

‘So this Alec Corbett…he might need both of us to help him someday? Is that what Takeshi thinks?’

Trent shrugged heavily. ‘I don’t know. But if you ever bring him here, you have to be discreet. And I’ll play dumb – I’ll have to pretend not to recognise him. He can’t know that Takeshi has planned all of this’.

Trey nodded to communicate his understanding and a brief silence fell upon them. ‘So…so you’re just out there in Space, all alone?’

Trent cast his eyes down from the camera.‘If I’d just been faster, I could be there with you’ Trey

whispered.Trent shook his head. ‘Takeshi will need you. Not now, but

one day’.

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2105

Trey crawled along the now-familiar route for his monthly meeting with his brother. From the very first day he’d found his way to the communication room, they’d agreed to always, always meet on a regular basis – though not too regular as to draw attention to themselves.

‘You look different’ Trent told him, looking slightly alarmed. He leaned closer to the screen in order to get a better look at his twin.

‘I met him’ Trey replied almost breathlessly. ‘Takeshi met me’.

Trent nodded knowingly. ‘He told you then?’Trey gave a slight smile in confirmation. It irritated him

slightly that Takeshi had briefed Trent before he’d spoken to him, but he was too excited to let it matter to much.

‘He’s given you such an important job. Alec Corbett is going to be a very important player in the events to come’.

‘I know, Takeshi said’ Trey said with the slightest hint of irritation. ‘I don’t know how I’m meant to reach out to him though. He lives on Level1, I can’t even get up there without a pass and Takeshi can’t issue me one for fear of drawing attention to me! He has given me the habitation at the end of the Level1 hallway though, for easier access to this place. I move in next week’.

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‘Don’t worry about that’ Trent said soothingly. ‘It will happen when it happens. You just need to have a strategy in mind. Once he’s under your care, you’ll have to do anything for him’.

‘I don’t get it though’ Trey said shaking his head in confusion. ‘He’s just a seventeen year old kid. How can he be important?’

‘He’s Landon Corbett’s son, and he’s going to be his undoing’.

* * *

Trey restored the panel carefully and slipped into the Level3 hallway as if he was part of the crowd. It was late morning, and one of the busiest times to try and navigate Level3. There was a constant murmur of people, but Trey couldn’t hear them. He was too lost in his own thoughts.

Takeshi had given him nothing but one instruction – “look out for Alec Corbett. Keep him safe” – and a photograph of the boy to go with it. And a new habitation, of course. Trey took the photo out at looked over it for the hundredth time in an attempt to embed the boy’s face into his memory. He had a mop of blonde hair, flicked stylistically to the left side of his face. His eyes were a piercing jade-shade of green, electrifying in their intensity but welcoming and friendly when combined with his smile.

He was trying to focus on specific features – the hair and the eyes; the things that stood out the most – when someone

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barged right into him. Such was his size that Trey was hardly moved, but the other person was sent reeling.

Trey whirled around, prepared to apologise, when he recognised the innocent green gaze beneath a fringe of tousled blonde hair staring back at him. It was Alec Corbett.

Trey discreetly slid the photo into his pocket and started towards the boy. He could see that Alec felt intimidated by his physical presence. He was just about to be nice, friendly and welcoming, but it suddenly occurred to him that he had no reason to be. It would almost be out of character for anyone on Level1 to show kindness and be apologetic towards a Level3 inhabitant. They were already better off – why should they receive any more compassion.

‘Trying to blend in, are you?’ Trey asked, turning on the spite in his voice and doing his best to look intimidating. It seemed to be working and Alec started to cower a little. ‘You think because you wear plain clothes and bunk the clunky magnet shoes that no one will notice you. Corbett’.

All around them, people slowed to a stop and fell silent to watch the spectacle before them unfolding. Nothing ever happened on Level1, so everyone was captivated by the slightest prospect of excitement.

‘I don’t get to choose to be where I am. The same way that you didn’t have much choice in being here’ Alec replied. His response caught Trey off-guard and the false persona he’d adopted nearly slipped.

‘You think because we’re poorer than you, we get no choice?’ his attempt to twist Alec’s words into something more

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malicious was poor, even by his own estimation, but it seemed to work. Alec was now looking around for any sign of someone that might help him. Trey wondered what on Earth he was doing on Level1 in the first place…

‘Leave him alone, Trey’. Trey looked up at the sound of the American voice addressing him. A large, round man lumbered into the circle that the crowd had created around the two of them. ‘He may be that son-of-a-bitch’s son but he’s not done wrong by us yet’.

Trey almost wanted to agree with him, but he was in no position to start being nice now, and so he was forced to carry on. ‘He does wrong just by coming down here’ he said cruelly.

‘If you’re starting on him, I’m going to have to think you’re starting on me’. Brilliant, Trey thought. The last thing he wanted was to get on Jay Jones’ bad side. He could take him in a fight easily, but Jay’s influence was far-reaching on Level1. One bad word from him and Trey’s reputation would be torn to pieces.

‘You want to defend this kid, Jay?’ Trey decided to make his next words his last. There was no use in the confrontation with Alec continuing. Contact, had been made. Albeit negatively. ‘Go ahead and see how far it gets you’ he said challengingly. But he genuinely hoped that Jay would accept the challenge of looking after Alec. ‘Maybe’ you’ll get to wipe Corbett Senior’s arse after he’s finishing crapping on our planet’.

With those words spoken, Trey broke through the circle and walked away. As the crowd dispersed, Trey risked a backward glance. Jay Jones was shaking hands with Alec Corbett. It should have been him making friends with Alec.

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But at least now he knew where to find him.

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the prequel chronicles: trey & trent

Documents

trent wasnt

main room

automatic light

black trainers

dark skin

bare skin

unseeing eyes

bed frame