"Oi oi oi, take a look at this, Bill."

The workman, clad in blue overalls and a yellow hard hat, was leaning down to look at something glistening at the side of the sewer tunnel.

"You've been doing this job too long, you know that, Del?" came an answering voice, a little further up. "Don't go picking up shiny things down here. You don't wanna know what they might be."

Del paused, his hand outstretched, and said "Yeah, but a picture of a woman. In fine condition, I might add."

"What, the picture or the woman?"

"The picture, you dog. Though the woman's pretty fine, too."

He paused again, but the gasp he thought he heard further down the early-20th century combined sewer[1] must have been his imagination.

Bill walked up beside him, careful not to slip on the unusually wet tiles.

"The weather's been playing havoc with these tunnels, you know. Sweeping all kinds of stuff down 'ere."

"Look, I'm not an idiot, alright? Feel it, it's dry. Like someone just dropped it 'ere a minute ago."

Del looked around, a little more nervously this time.

"And I ain't here to look at pictures of someone else's girl, alright? We didn't come all the way to this damn place to pick up sewer trash. We came to do a job, and we'll do it and get out of here, ok?"

The spheres had appeared outside their houses in London one day and informed them they were needed to inspect the sewerage systems in several cities in the old USA, and, knowing what happens when you refused a sphere's request, they had boarded a sleek jet of a design they'd never seen nor heard of that very evening and been taken to inspect many of the old-style systems that dotted the American North-East. They didn't want to think on the reasons why there were no longer enough professionals in North America to do this themselves.

"Alright, alright, but you know, she is a bit of a looker, in't she? Think I'll keep it."

As he went to put the picture into the inside pocket of his overalls, a vibrating sound reverberated down the corridor and three figures appeared in front of them... or the same figure, three times.

Each figure was outlined in a blue, fluorescent light and appeared partially transparent. They flickered rapidly, like an old VCR with bad tracking. All three moved simultaneously, each a reflection of the other, rearing back and letting out a scream of rage that froze the two workmen in place.

Del felt the picture fall out of his paralysed grip, spinning as it fell towards the floor. The central glowing blue figure swooped down and caught it, the images either side moving in the exact same way parallel to the centre, swooping to catch at nothing. However, as soon as the picture was caught in the hand of the central figure, both the other two also held a picture.

No, realised Del, not 'a' picture. It's the same picture...

Suddenly the blue figures seemed to cease their flickering, merging together in an eye blink, and there was just one ordinary man, standing still, eyes locked on the picture of the woman. For a second or two he just stood there, then looked up as if seeing the two men for the first time. Eyes widening in fright, he let out a scream and ran off into the darkness.

"Well," said Bill, slowly, "I'm glad we're in a sewer, 'cos I think I just shat meself."

"So you're saying the goddam worm isn't really on some kind of mission?"

Triss was talking to Shade as Smoke was putting on his jacket again, now changed into jeans suitable for the night chill. He and Nick had agreed to go pick up Ollie from the area Shade thought he would be.

"Look, he was first introduced to the group by Smoke, alright, and I don't think he feels comfortable with us when he's not here. For some reason, he thinks some of us don't like him."

Triss glared but said nothing as Shade continued;

"And when Smoke was off searching for FX he came to me and asked to leave. What was I meant to do, tell him he couldn't? We're all here of our own volition, of course I couldn't. It was all I could do to get him to tell me where he was going."

"Yeah, well, 'around the old Shepard's Crown pub' isn't really great information, anyway," interjected Nick, patting his pockets to locate his car keys.

"It was all I could get from him, ok? He said he'll visit the pub at least once a day - it's abandoned, so I guess he uses it himself. I promised him I wouldn't let anyone else know where he was going except in an emergency, but I would say this warrants it."

"Alright, we'll get him and bring him back straight after," said Smoke, opening the door out as he spoke. "Once a day, eh? He better be around. It's too cramped in your goddam old banger..."

"Hey," said Nick in a wounded voice, "She's a great car, alright? Saved your asses, anyway."

Their voices trailed off as they left the house, followed shortly by the rasping, rattling sound of Nick's car engine turning over as he turned the key in the ignition.

The early morning light illuminated their faces as Nick drove, concentrating on the road and the early-morning traffic[2]. He stifled a yawn, but not fast enough for Smoke to miss it.

"Yeah, we haven't slept for a long time, any of us. I say we get Ollie, get back, and pass out for a while before we do anything else."

"Sounds good to me," replied Nick. "I just hope this guy shows up sooner rather than later." They drove on in silence for a while, until Nick once more spoke. "So, how'd you know this guy, anyway? You guys old friends or something?"

"Nah, we only go back a couple of years. Met him when I was working with the New City police department, back before they were trying to kill me. It was the time of that spate of suicides, remember? When all those bankers and stock-brokers were jumping from their office windows?"

Nick nodded.

"Well, I wasn't even meant to be there, but I convinced Lou to take me along with him to one of the scenes. I know, I know, ghoulish, but it was all over the news at the time, all those bankers committing suicide even though business was at worst a little wobbly, and I wanted to get in on the action. Who cares about a bunch of rich bastards, anyway?"

He seemed to be trying to convince himself rather than Nick.

"Well, anyway, I'm gawking at the body like a gormless bystander when this kid taps me on the shoulder. About your age, and he straight-up tells me "I'm like you."

"He knew who you were?"

"Yeah, he said he'd seen me in the papers and had been trying to meet me ever since, waiting at crime scenes in the hope I'd turn up. I mean, the guy's a mess. Can barely make eye-contact, stammers all the time, it must have been hard for him to even come out of wherever it was he was holed up."

"Holed up?"

"As far as I can tell, he's a runaway. He wouldn't talk much about it, but he's been out on the streets for at least a few years, maybe more. I dunno."

"But he's an Advanced!" Nick exclaimed. "You guys could print money back in the day!"

"I think you're getting carried away, there," said Smoke, "You think I was rich? No. There was a lot of money to be made, but just like with normal people, only a few ever made it big and became celebrities or whatever. The rest of us were just ordinary folk like the rest of humanity, and Ollie found it more difficult than most. Anyway, then it started raining metal spheres and I brought him into the group with me. Took a lot of convincing too, and Triss still treats him like shit."

"And you're still not gonna tell me what he can do?"

"Look, it's a strange one, alright? You remember the phasers they used to have on the early talent shows?"

"The ones that could teleport? Yeah, they were great! There was that pair of twins, wasn't there, the ones who did the acrobatic show, falling towards the ground then appearing back on their trapezes at the last moment? Probably the most popular of the early Advanced, or at least I remember seeing them on TV a lot."

Smoke was sure Nick knew the names[3] of the twins, and was trying unsuccessfully to hide his fan-boy enthusiasm for all things Advanced.

"Yeah, those guys. Well, it's kind of like that..."

The Shepard's Crown was an olde-English style theme pub, timber frames supporting white walls and beams crossing the ceiling. They had entered by the rear door as the front was littered with boxes and appeared locked. From the layer of dust, the pub hadn't been in use for months at the least. Alcohol was unfortunately in limited supply everywhere - the calculations that reorganised global production didn't seem to take into account alcoholic beverages, and most people had been reduced to stills in their gardens or homebrews in large plastic bottles under their stairs. Smoke went behind the bar and opened an unpowered fridge, taking two bottles from it and cracking them open.

"Beer?" he asked. "At least this cold weather is good for keeping these chilled."

"You found beer here? No way!" Nick darted across the room and grabbed one of the bottles.

"Just the one for you, mind. You're driving, remember." He took a swig of his beer, followed by another gulp, and pretty soon the two of them were sitting at a round table, 5 or 6 empty bottles resting in front of them, talking about the merits of different powers.

"You're crazy man!" laughed Nick. "You can turn into smoke! Why would you want teleportation? You can basically teleport anyway, plus you're immune to bullets."

"Most of the time - gotta be conscious, remember? Triss told me that. But, yeah, I get what you're saying, but if I teleported I wouldn't be turning up butt naked and freezing all the time."

"Ha! Yeah, that is inconvenient, isn't it. What about Triss's power then? She seems to be able to take her clothes with her..."

"More's the pity," mumbled Smoke.

The two of them caught each other's eye and burst out laughing.

"Oh, you got a thing for Lunar then, have you?" asked Nick.

"Well, you know, she's smart, and tough."

"And sexy as hell."

"You noticed that too, huh? Yeah, there is that. Whatever; there's just not many women wanting to hang around a group of wanted criminals being chased by an intergalactic menace, is there?"

"Yeah, well, we save the world, you'll be beating them off with a stick, as opposed to beating off with... Well, anyway, you get it." Nick stood up to grab two more beers from the bar.

"I'm going to the bathroom," slurred Smoke, lighting another cigarette and staggering off to find the facilities.

Nick chuckled to himself as he bent down to grab the beers and, as he stood back up, saw a face staring in shock at him from a half-opened trapdoor next to his feet. Surprised, Nick jumped back, knocking a row of shot glasses to the floor.

"Whoa whoa whoa, Ollie?" he said, extending his hands out in supplication as the face turned a glowing blue, seeming to slide out of focus as it blurred into three overlapping images that gradually spread apart but continued to overlap in the narrow trapdoor space.

"Who are you?" The voice emanated from all three mouths, a weird choral effect like it was being played through a guitar amplifier, resonating with each syllable.

"I'm Nick. Look, I'm with Smoke, ok? He's here, he's here, and he’s just gone to the toilet. I'll call him, alright? Cool effect, by the way... Smoke! SMOKE!" he yelled, and Smoke came running around the corner, face more sober than he had departed.

"What, is he here?" Smoke looked at Nick as Nick wordlessly pointed down to the floor. Blocked by the bar counter, Smoke couldn't see anything, but he said "Ollie, you there man?"

Nick was relieved to see Ollie's faces merge instantly and resume normal colouration, as he said "Smo-Smoke? That you?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's me, and that's Nick. He's a good guy. Look, I don't know what the hell you're doing down there but get up here and let's have a drink, yeah?"

It was now two hours (or so, they'd kind of lost track of time) later and the three of them were quite thoroughly wasted. The beers had run out soon after Ollie had joined them, so they had moved on to the bottles of spirits lining the back.

"Wha... Wasshis then?" Smoke held a bottle up in the dim light. "Peach menthsh? That'sh good shtuff."

He poured the liquid into their glasses and over the table, about 50/50.

"Whoopsh, haha" he said, as they raised their glasses and on the count of three downed them together.

"But you know what?" he said, shaking his head to clear it, "I don't get why the booze is all still here. I mean, if I knew about this pub it'd have been dry months ago."

"Ah, that'sh because I'm here," replied Ollie, lifting his head from where it had been resting on the table. "I sh... scare them off, see? This is my place now, at least, the cellar is. There's a hole down there I made into the drainage system - I can get around the city without anyone seeing me."

Smoke nodded his head in understanding, or perhaps drunkenness.

Nick let out a huge belch.

"So, Ollie, now that we've got to know each other, you think you can show me that trick of yours again? I've been trying to work it out, but but but but... eh? Go on!"

Ollie had definitely opened up after the first couple of beers, and by now his stammer was barely noticeable and his eyes had ceased darting around the room.

"Alright, here we go. Feast your eyes on this!"

As he finished the sentence, the same effect Nick had seen earlier took hold, his body seeming to fade into a bright but pale blue, slightly transparent, image blurring either side of him and spreading, until suddenly there were 3 flickering images, all the same as far as Nick could tell.

"Sweet! Can you control them independently?" he asked.

"No, nothing like that," When Ollie replied, the voice came from all three images, creating the strange, electronic choral effect, "I am in all three at once, and I move in sync."

"Well, that's cool. Weird, but cool." Nick face took on a puzzled expression. "I don't see what use that is for getting into the tower, though."

"Look down, Nick," said Smoke, pouring more drinks from a new bottle. "Look at what..." he hiccupped, then continued, "...what he's sitting on."

Nick looked down and saw that, as with the original, all three were sitting on a stool, the stool faded the same blue as Ollie's bodies.

"Six... three stools," he said, blinking. "Three stools, but I'm still not seeing how that helps. Can you permanently triplicate things?"

"No no no," said Smoke, standing. "Look, let's sit on one..." The three versions of Ollie stood up, leaving the stools behind.

"Oh cool, you don't have to be touching what you copy!"

"Not after I dupli... triplicate myself, no. Just at the start. Come over here" The three Ollies gestured for the other two to sit down on the stools, and they did, Smoke on the left and Nick on the right.

"Huh, it feels completely normal. So now both me and Smoke are sitting on the same stool, right?"

"That's right. Now, watch this." Suddenly, the three images snapped back into one, the left and right merging into the centre, and Nick found himself falling hard to the floor.

"Argh, my ass!" he shouted, rolling about as Smoke, still supported by his legs even though they were still bent in the position of when he sat down, laughed and stood up.

"I love that trick, but it's not the key. It'sh the key that opens the lock, shee?"

He swayed, taking a swig and passing the bottle to Ollie, who necked it back.

"Ah," Ollie coughed, "What the hell is this stuff? It burns."

"Aye, that's the good shtuff there, laddie," replied Smoke, for some reason putting on a terrible Scottish accent for a second.

"G'on, let's show him the key."

Ollie leant forward, unsteadily supporting himself on the stool with one hand, the other swinging the bottle, and split into the three blue forms again. Nick, standing by now, looked at the three stools.

"So, where do you want to sit this time, Nick?" asked Smoke.

"S'gotta be the centre, right? That's the original one."

Smiling triumphantly, he sat down heavily onto the centre seat, Smoke sitting again on the left.

"Ready, Ollie?"

All three Ollies were looking down at the bottles in their hands. "Hey, three bottles now," he said, smiling happily and taking a large swig. "Ah, that hit the spots."

Becoming aware that the others were waiting on him, he counted down from three and then... Nick collapsed onto the floor.

"Wait, what the hell? This time the other two went into the left guy!"

Pushing himself up, he looked and saw Smoke sitting on the now fully-formed stool, unmoved.

"Wait, wait, so you can choose which one becomes the real one again? It doesn't have to be the original?"

"They are all the original. I can't tell you how I know that, but I can feel it. I just choose which position to revert to. And I can materialise my images through solid objects, so long as there's space on the other side, so..."

"...so you could transport things inside a building from outside. So we stand outside the tower, you do your thing, and drop us inside the tower! Genius!"

"Well, so long as the walls aren't more than 5 or 6 feet thick - I can't space myself out mush more than that, but yes, that's the idea." He passed the bottle to Nick, who choked as he swung it up to his lips. "What the hell is this stuff..?"

Triss found them in various states of disarray in the bar later that day. Smoke sat at the table, hand on a bottle and face to its side on the table, saliva from his mouth drooling down to pool beside his cheek. Nick was curled up on the floor on a pile of musty cardboard from which he had tried to create a makeshift bed, to little effect, and Ollie was covered with a blanket in the corner. Triss assumed the blanket was one Ollie had had stored here for when he stayed. Walking up to Smoke, she prised the empty bottle from his hand.

"Spiritas. Jesus, they drank a whole bottle. No wonder they didn't get home."

She walked over to the jukebox, plugging it in at the back and was delighted when the power flowed through it.

Score one to the spheres and their free electricity, she thought.

Flicking through the list, she found a song she liked and typed in the key. After a brief moment of loading, the sounds of Public Enemy shattered the silence.

1989 the number another summer,

Sound of the funky drummer...

The reactions of the three were similar. After a second or two of rising out of their unconsciousness, they woke up, alert, wide-eyed, jolting upright and looking frantically around for spheres or police. Seeing Triss standing beside the jukebox, a grin on her face, Smoke clutched at his temple whilst Nick and Ollie both closed their eyes tight and put their fingers in their ears.

"Hey, it's a great song and whatever," yelled Smoke, his voice hoarse and cracking, "but can we turn it down please? I feel like an elephant sat on my head."

"I feel like an elephant did something else on my head."

This was Nick, who scrabbled behind the bar and searched for the volume control. Turning the knob, the music fell to a level that the three could, if not enjoy, at least tolerate.

"Oh god I have a fucking hangover..." said Smoke.

Nick, suddenly covering his mouth with his hands, ran out the back to the alley behind. They could hear him retching through the open door, which instantly made Ollie dry heave and run to the bathroom. Smoke picked up the bottle Triss had recently put down and read the label.

"Spiritas. Shit."

"So you guys have been having fun, eh? Shade is terrified you've been taken again, or shot, or something."

"Shit, I'm sorry. It's just been a long few weeks, and then there's all this free booze, and we're waiting for Ollie, and..." He trailed off.

"Hey, it's fine by me. I'm in no hurry to take on a highly advanced group of machines on their home turf. Relax." Leaning over the bar, she grabbed a wine glass and a miraculously untouched bottle of house red. "Think I'll have a glass myself. Learnt this trick when I was a girl."

Her hand silvered and flowed over the cork, some of the silver liquid somehow managing to pour between the bottle and the cork, then Smoke saw silver inside the top of the bottle between liquid and seal, expanding until the cork shot out and bounced away into a corner.

"I thought corks were watertight," he said, feeling queasy as she poured and the smell reached him.

"They are, but trust me, I can get in pretty much anywhere. Not much is too tight when you use a little force. Cheers."

Wait, did she just... Was that a... Smoke thought, but the pounding in his head retook his attention as the music played on.

...We got to fight the powers that be,

let me hear you say,

fight the power...

Nick and Ollie entered the room a few minutes later, Nick sheepishly smiling at Triss and Ollie looking worried, unable to make eye contact.

"Good to see you, Ollie," she said, giving a warm smile and raising her glass towards him.

Whoa, she really is gorgeous, Smoke thought. He wasn't sure if he'd seen her smile before, but it lit her face up in a way that made his stomach lurch[4]. Ollie, too, seemed affected by it, smiling nervously back and standing a little taller, a little straighter.

"H-h-hey, Lunar," he replied.

"So, uh, what you reckon? This accelerated-healing thing going to help with our hangovers, you think?" Smoke asked Triss.

"Has it ever helped before?" she replied.

"No..."

"I wouldn't hope for too much, then."

They'd made their way back to Shade at a much slower pace than they had left, Smoke electing to drive as Nick was still shaky, following Triss who was driving a blue people carrier she had acquired somewhere. She'd refused to let them in, saying their smell made her feel ill, so the three of them had to cram into the white 4x4 again. Falling through the doorway and racing to get to the bathroom first, they ignored Shade's frantic questions until all three were showered. By the time Ollie was done, Nick had passed out on the couch whilst Smoke filled Shade in on the night's events, talking in the muted tones of the seriously hungover.

"So you went off to get drunk? We don't have time to play, for god's sake."

"Look, everyone needs some downtime, ok? We've been attacked, beaten, chased, and now you want us to break into one of those damned towers and fight an entire alien invasion. I think we can afford a little fun." Smoke was holding his head, the ibuprofen he had found in the bathroom still not taking effect. "What have we go to eat around here, anyway?"

Shade went to the freezer, taking out some frozen meals and throwing them into the microwave.

"It's much harder to get food now Lou's gone. He was the one who could get to the shops without worrying about being attacked by the spheres, and that was before we had the entire city police force looking for us, so this is all we've got. Lasagne is it."

Smoke sighed at the mention of Lou.

"We wait much longer, we're going to be robbing convenience stores to stay alive," said FX, who had been unimpressed that the others had been drinking while he'd stayed behind and faced Shade's constant ramblings about all the things that could have happened to them. He was more annoyed by the fact that they didn't seem to have brought any drinks back with them, either.

"Look, I've been talking with Shade and his plan is pretty sound. We get in there, look around for as long as we can, try to figure out what's going on in there, maybe speak to some of the people if we can, then we get out. This is a reconnaissance mission, not an assault."

"And how do we get out? Ollie is only getting us in, remember?"

"Well, we either get out via one of the openings higher up, or I'll blast us out. We only need to get in quietly. Getting out we can be a loud as we like."

"I'll come with you."

The others looked at Ollie, wandering if they'd heard his almost-whisper correctly.

"I never said I wouldn't come with you, did I? You just assumed I wouldn't."

Triss, sitting in an armchair in one corner, raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"That's... good to hear, Ollie. Thank you."

Ollie reddened and looked down.

"I don't see why everyone's so surprised, anyway. I never said I wouldn't," he mumbled.

Shade stood up and clapped his hands together.

"Well, you lot aren't in any state to do anything right now. Look, it's late, and I wouldn't send you out now anyway. Let's eat, get some rest, and we leave tomorrow evening."

He made to leave the room, clearly satisfied with events.

"Look, Stannie-boy. You're not sending us anywhere. We're going, alright, and it's your idea, fine. But stop acting like you're our boss or something, " FX snapped.

"And somebody find this guy a drink. I think he needs it," finished Shade as he left the room.

Smoke reached into the pocket of his jacket, lying discarded on the floor, and produced a large unopened bottle of beer.

"Sorry, forgot I had this. Put it there for you last night. There's a few bottles of something in the car, too."

FX looked glad for the first time in a while.

[1] Having been a sewerage worker all his life, in old Europe and the North American Federation, Del was not one to be vague with his sewerage terminology

[2] There was a lot less traffic these days, of course, but daily life in some form continued, and you can bet that when the world ends, most of us will be stuck in traffic.

[3] And probably hometowns, hobbies, and favourite food

[4] Though that could have been the hangover.