Ashton emerged from Métro Edgar Quinet onto the streets of Montparnasse. He was about to head for his hotel in Rue Delambre, when a man spoke to him in English, “Professor Kershaw? Do you have a minute?”

The stranger was nondescript, medium height with unremarkable brown hair and spoke with a slight Scottish accent. Ashton was mildly irritated at the interruption. Did this man want to sell him something? And why had he spoken English, not French? He wanted to get back to his room and freshen up after a long day at the conference, but the unanswered questions were enough to make him pause.

“I would like to talk to you about your brother.”

That immediately put Ashton on his guard. Why would the government send an agent here to Paris to check on him? And why would the agent reveal himself in such an obvious way? Maybe the stranger wasn’t an agent, but there was no point in taking risks. “I have no wish to hear about my brother. He is a traitor who has taken up with the alien-lovers. Our family, myself included, have completely disowned him.”

The Confederacy had extracted Ashton’s brother, Simon, a month before the Earth First party won the UK election. The new government hadn’t introduced its anti-Confederacy policies back then, so pickups were still happening. These days random extractions were a lot less common.

The stranger appeared unsurprised by Ashton’s response. “Shall we talk over coffee?”

Ashton made a snap decision. If this man was a government agent, then co-operation was the best policy. If he wasn’t, then there would be no harm done. He might even have some real news about Simon. “Very well,” he agreed.

They settled in a quiet corner of a nearby café. Sitting at the same table they almost looked like brothers. Ashton was the older of the two, in his early-forties, his hair a shade darker than his companion’s though starting to recede.

The stranger launched into his salesman’s pitch, “I represent a new company running holidays and conferences in Scotland. We want to get established quickly, so we are offering some excellent starter deals. There is a short presentation here.” He handed Ashton a smartphone.

The screen just showed junk, and there was a sharp edge that pricked his thumb. “Sorry,” Ashton replied as he handed it back, “your phone is broken. Better get it repaired.”

“Oh dear. They told me it was out of this world.”

Something clicked in the Professor’s mind. This stranger was possibly in contact with his brother. The phone, if it was a phone, was ‘out of this world’. This ‘salesman’ wasn’t a government agent at all, he was probably from the Confederacy. “I’d expected you to be taller,” Ashton remarked casually. The rumours said that Confederacy military measured two metres with a build to match.

“Some of my friends are, but they can be a bit too obvious.”

So this man was likely a Confederacy agent, and almost certainly here to arrange an extraction. Both Ashton and Simon had taken their CAP tests soon after Average Joes had aired and both made the cut as sponsors. “I’m afraid I can’t go with you now. My family...” The government had made very sure to keep his wife and son in the UK when they let him travel to Paris for the conference. If Ashton had been single he’d have jumped at the opportunity implied by a Confederacy agent being here, but he wasn’t going to leave his family behind to face the inevitable retaliation from government thugs.

“We appreciate your family problem, and a number of your colleagues are in the same position. That is why we are arranging a conference in Scotland. There aren’t as many problems with arranging travel to Scotland as there are when going abroad.” Ashton nodded his understanding. Staying within the UK should simplify things on the family front.

“Could I justify taking my family to a scientific conference? That might look susp...” Ashton quickly changed the word he was going to say, “ ... unusual.”

“Oh no, not unusual at all. Our company is not just organising a science conference. It will be a combination of conference, family holiday and team building exercise. There will be plenty for families to do while you and your colleagues attend the conference. You will be inviting your family, and possibly friends, to a holiday in the Scottish Highlands. We are trying out a new business model to see how well it works.”

This was a strange conversation. The two of them were ostensibly talking about a scientific conference, while actually talking about a pre-arranged Confederacy extraction. That could make it difficult to express things. “What about my colleagues who might not want to go on any...” How could he get the idea across? “ ... any erm ... optional side trips on offer? Some people might feel that such excursions were not consistent with their Party membership.”

“You yourself are a Party member, are you not, Professor.”

“Yes, I felt it was necessary to show a good example to my colleagues and join the Party.” That and the fact that he would have lost his job if he hadn’t joined. As the new Earth First government consolidated its power after the election, Party membership had become an essential, though unofficial, requirement for many senior jobs. “However, some of my colleagues joined of their own accord, rather than as an example.”

The reply came quickly enough to convince Ashton that the stranger had anticipated his question. “We will provide two itineraries to get to the conference: by road or by rail. The rail route is very scenic, so I would strongly suggest that you and your family choose to go by rail, rather than by road.”

Well, that was clear enough. People for extraction would be on the train, while the few gung-ho Earth First types could travel by road and miss the pick-up. “Your conference proposal sounds interesting. Could you send the details to my office please. I won’t have time to give it my full consideration until after I’ve returned to Manchester.”

“Certainly Professor. I’ll have full details sent to you. Here’s my card, so you can contact me with any questions you may have.”

The stranger handed over his card, left a twenty Euro note on the table and walked out of the café, quickly merging into the crowd.

Looking at the card, Ashton discovered the stranger’s name: Douglas Stewart. His name fitted his accent.

Ashton looked out of the window as the train pulled out of Upper Tyndrum station. Douglas had been right, the train ride was very scenic. The spectacular Highland landscape made for excellent views.

As Ashton was thinking of Douglas, the man himself appeared walking through the carriage. “Do you mind if I join you, Professor?”

“Not at all Douglas.” Ashton indicated his family, “May I introduce my wife Valerie and my son Chris...”

Douglas had seen pictures of Ashton’s family as part of his briefing, so he wasn’t surprised at Valerie being black. She’d met Ashton in South Africa when he spent eighteen months at Witwatersrand University as part of his PhD studies. When he returned to Manchester, she’d followed him and they married after he’d completed his doctorate.

Ashton continued his introductions, “This is Douglas Stewart who is organising this jaunt.” Valerie and Chris both smiled and nodded.

Sitting down next to the Professor, Douglas eyed the three uniformed Safety Patrol goons sitting nearby drinking their beers. “Are there only three of the Patrol on the train or is there a fourth one somewhere?” he asked quietly.

“Just the three,” Ashton replied softly. “They did a bit of patrolling through the train after we left Glasgow, but they soon stopped and settled down to their beers.”

“Very patriotic of them,” Douglas joked. “We have to keep the brewery workers in their jobs.”

Chris Kershaw, Ashton’s fifteen-year-old son, asked Douglas, “Will there be stuff for me to do when we get there? Dad’s conference sounds really really boring.”

“Oh yes, Chris, you’ll have plenty to do. We might even have a surprise arranged.”

Chris wasn’t stupid. “But you’re not going to tell me anything about it, are you?”

“Of course not. If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a surprise.” The two of them finished the sentence together, both laughing.

Ashton hoped that Douglas’ plans for the ‘surprise’ would go well. He hadn’t been able to persuade all of his anti-Confederacy colleagues to travel by road, so a few of them were on the train. He also worried about the Safety Patrol; they were armed and would inevitably try to interfere with a Confederacy extraction. Douglas’ earlier question implied that he’d expected to see the Patrol – most main-line trains had them now. Presumably he had made arrangements to deal with them.

Those arrangements became clear as they pulled out of the next station, Bridge of Orchy. Chris grunted and stared at something behind his father. Valerie also noticed, and was looking past her husband’s shoulder. What, or rather who, they were looking at became clear as she stalked down the aisle past Ashton towards the three Patrol men. Even from behind she was spectacular, six feet tall, slim with waist-length dark brown hair and supermodel legs showing below a perfectly tailored short skirt. A very short skirt. She stopped, put her small case in the overhead rack and sat in a seat just behind the three Patrollers. Naturally they turned to stare at her. Ashton was staring as well, her front view was even better than her rear. Definitely a supermodel’s face.

Seeing the three Patrol men looking at her, she smiled and started talking to them, obviously flirting.

Chris grunted again. Ashton didn’t even have time to turn his head as three green walls of muscle rushed past him, coming up behind the distracted Patrollers. Three quiet zaps and it was all over. One of the Marines walked back to Douglas, “Train secured, sir. Safety Patrol stunned and disarmed, train manager under guard, computer systems overridden and drivers isolated. Ready to start the extraction, sir.”

“Good, and pass my congratulations to Private Ireland,” Douglas said. “She did an excellent job distracting those three.”

“I’ll do that sir. Jasmin will be happy you noticed.”

“It’s difficult not to notice her,” Douglas observed with a smile. “Of course, that’s the point of having her on the team. Carry on with the extraction, Corporal.”

“You’re leaving the drivers behind?” Ashton asked. “Isn’t that a bit unfair?”

“Not really,” Douglas explained, “they’re both low CAP males so we don’t really want them. If we extracted them we’d probably send them straight back anyway. They’ll keep the train moving so it doesn’t block the tracks. They’re cut-off in the cab so they won’t be aware of what’s happening back here.”

Meanwhile, Chris was looking around expecting to see the orgy, complete with naked women, that his classmates were sure would happen during a Confederacy pickup. To his disappointment, all he could see was people quietly collecting their belongings. He even overheard one of the Marines telling a woman to keep her clothes on! Even more disappointing, the spectacular brunette wasn’t stripping. Obviously his pals hadn’t known as much as they’d claimed about what happened at an extraction. Typical! They were often wrong about stuff they didn’t really know much about. Schoolboy fantasies took the place of real knowledge.

Ashton got up to collect the family’s luggage from the racks at the end of the carriage, but two Marines were already passing it through a glowing disc on the floor. The other passengers were lining up in the aisle ready to follow their luggage.

As they waited for their turn, Chris turned to his father, “You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you Dad?”

“Yes. A pretty good ‘surprise’ isn’t it.”

“Sure, but what will I do? I haven’t been CAP tested. Will they even take me?”

“Don’t worry about it Chris, they’re sure to have CAP testing wherever they’re taking us.”

Chris nodded, and then their conversation had to stop as it was his turn to step onto the transporter disc. Ashton and Valerie followed their son through the transporter.

On the other side, the luggage was laid out in a row to their right. They picked theirs out and joined the growing crowd at the far wall of the large windowless room. Looking around, Ashton could see that there were eight transporters delivering people to eight rows of luggage. One transporter per carriage. That made sense, it would let them evacuate everyone from the train before it pulled into the next station at Rannoch.

A voice came booming over the Tannoy, “Welcome all of you to Copernicus Moonbase. We will shortly have you sorted and settled.” The announcement quietened the general chatter. “Will those attending Kirsty McDonald’s Graduation Party, together with their friends and families, please go through the hatch marked with the red square. Follow the red line once you are through the hatch.” Twenty or so people, mostly student types, made their way towards a door – hatch – with a red square above it. The Confederacy had done the obvious thing and organised more than one group to travel on the train.

The voice continued, “Will those attending Professor Kershaw’s Science Conference, together with their friends and families, please go through the hatch marked with the blue square. Follow the blue line once you are through the hatch.”

A blue line on the floor led them to a lecture theatre where everyone sat down and waited. Ashton could see that Dr. Bennett was complaining loudly. He’d insisted on coming by train, despite all efforts to persuade him to go by car.

As they sat, Valerie asked her husband the same question as Chris, “You knew about this, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Why didn’t you let me know?”

“Security, dear. Don’t worry about it, we’re here now.” Actually it was a combination of security and a distinct queasiness whenever he even thought about telling anyone the real reason behind the trip. Probably something Douglas had done, he suspected. If Confederacy technology was as good as some of the rumours said, then making him keep their secrets was an obvious thing to do.

A sudden silence descended, cutting short Ashton’s thoughts. Douglas walked out to the lectern at the front of the room. He was no longer in civilian clothes, but was wearing a black military uniform. “Welcome again to Copernicus Base in the moon. I am Commander Douglas Stewart, Confederacy Navy, and I’m sorry to have to tell you that you have all been temporarily kidnapped.” Ashton laughed along with most of the others at the sly reference to UK government propaganda, though Dr. Bennett didn’t seem so amused.

“You do not have to stay here if you don’t want to. If you wish to go back, then we can offer you a free Confederacy medical and financial compensation before returning you to Earth. You have up to twenty-four hours to decide, so we also provide complementary overnight accommodation should you need it. That will allow you all enough time to talk over what you want to do.”

“I don’t need any time!” Dr. Bennett erupted. “I demand you put us back on Earth right this minute!”

“You don’t want the free medical or the financial compensation ... Dr. Bennett?” There was a slight pause as the AI fed Douglas the name of the man he was addressing.

“You can keep your filthy money. We’re going back as soon as we can.”

“The ‘we’ is up to your wife, Doctor,” Douglas pointed out. “Does she want to go back? How about the medical or the compensation?”

“She’s coming with me!” Dr. Bennett shouted.

“She will decide for herself,” the commander contradicted him. Turning to the doctor’s wife, sitting silently by her husband, Douglas asked, “Mrs. Bennett, would you like to stay? How about the medical or the compensation?”

Looking nervously at her husband, she spoke quietly, “My GP worries about my blood pressure. The medical check would be useful before we go back. Confederacy medicine is meant to be very good.”

“It is, Mrs. Bennett.” Douglas turned back to her husband, “You can wait for your wife in medical, Dr. Bennett. After she’s finished we’ll return you both to Earth.”

A concubine in a short white shift appeared, ready to escort the Bennetts to medical. Dr. Bennett was reluctant, but he had no choice other than to follow. A few others who also wished to go for their medical left the room with them.

Once they had gone, Douglas continued, “Those of you who are fourteen or over and who haven’t yet been CAP tested can take a test if you wish, before you decide whether to stay or to return. The same offer applies to anyone who last tested more than a year ago and wishes to retest.” Chris smiled at that.