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‘Josh, mate, could you just read me the minutes for a couple of minutes ago, if you get my drift?’

‘Huh?’

Crispin sighed and tutted. Joely reached down from her table-top and kissed Crispin on the ear. Cunt.

‘The minutes, Josh. After the stuff Joely was saying about protest strategy. We’d moved on to the hard part. I want to hear what Paddy was saying a few minutes ago about Punishment versus Release.’

Joshua looked at his blank clipboard and placed it over his detumescent erection.

‘Umm… I guess I missed that.’

‘Er, well that was actually really fucking important, Josh. You’ve got to keep up. I mean, what’s the point of doing all this talking-’

Cunt, cunt, cunt.

‘He’s doing his best,’ Joely interceded, reaching down from her table-top once more, this time to ruffle Joshua’s Jewfro. ‘This is probably quite hard for Joshi, you know? I mean this is quite personal to him.’ She always called him Joshi like that. Joshi and Joely. Joely and Joshi.

Crispin frowned. ‘Well, you know, I’ve said many times if Joshua doesn’t want to be personally involved in this job, because of personal sympathies, if he wants out, then-’

‘I’m in,’ snapped Josh, barely restraining the aggression. ‘I’ve no intention of wimping out.’

‘That’s why Joshi’s our hero,’ said Joely, with an enormous, supportive smile. ‘Mark my words, he’ll be the last man standing.’

Ah, Joely!

‘All right, well, let’s get on. Try to keep minutes from now on, all right? OK. Paddy, can you just repeat what you were saying, so everyone can take it in, because I think what you said perfectly sums up the key decision we have to make now.’

Paddy’s head shot up and he fumbled through his notes. ‘Umm, well basically… basically, it’s a question of… of what our real aims are. If it’s to punish the perpetrators and educate the public… then, well, that involves one sort of approach – an attack directly on, umm, the person in question,’ said Paddy, flashing a nervous glance at Joshua. ‘But if our interest is the animal itself, as I think it should be, then it’s a question of an anti-campaign, and if that doesn’t succeed, then the forceful release of the animal.’

‘Right,’ said Crispin hesitantly, unsure where the Crispin-role-of-glory would fit into freeing one mouse. ‘But surely the mouse in this case is a symbol, i.e., this guy’s got a lot more of them in his lab – so we have to deal with the bigger picture. We need someone to bust in there-’

‘Well, basically… basically, I think that’s the mistake that OHNO make for example. Because, they take the animal itself as simply a symbol… and to me that’s absolutely the opposite of what FATE is about. If this were a man trapped in a little glass box for six years, he wouldn’t be a symbol, you know? And I don’t know about you, but there’s no difference between mice and men, you know, in my opinion.’

The gathered members of FATE murmured their assent, because this was the kind of sentiment to which they routinely murmured assent.

Crispin was miffed. ‘Right, well, obviously I didn’t mean that, Paddy. I just meant there is a bigger picture here, just like choosing between one man’s life and many men’s lives, right?’

‘Point of order!’ said Josh, putting his hand in the air for a chance to make Crispin look stupid. Crispin glared.

‘Yes, Joshi,’ said Joely sweetly. ‘Go on.’

‘It’s just there aren’t any more mice. I mean, yeah, there are lots of mice, but he hasn’t got any exactly like this one. It’s an incredibly expensive process. He couldn’t afford loads. Plus, the press goaded him that if the FutureMouse died while on display he could just secretly replace it with another – so he got cocky. He wants to prove that his calculations are correct in front of the world. He’s only going to do one and barcode it. There are no others.’

Joely beamed and reached down to massage Josh’s shoulders.

‘Right, yes, well, I guess that makes sense. So Paddy, I see what you’re saying – it is a question of whether we’re going to devote our attentions to Marcus Chalfen or to releasing the actual mouse from its captivity in front of the world’s press.’

‘Point of order!’

‘Yes, Josh, what?’

‘Well, Crispin, this isn’t like the other animals you bust out. It won’t make any difference. The damage is done. The mouse carries around its own torture in its genes. Like a time-bomb. If you release it, it’ll just die in terrible pain somewhere else.’

‘Point of order!’

‘Yes, Paddy, go on.’

‘Well, basically… would you not help a political prisoner to escape from jail just because he had a terminal disease?’

The multiple heads of FATE nodded vigorously.

‘Yes, Paddy, yes, that’s right. I think Joshua’s wrong there and I think Paddy has presented to us the choice we have to make. It’s one we’ve come up against many times before and we’ve made different choices in different circumstances. We have, in the past, as you know, gone for the perpetrators. Lists have been made and punishments dealt out. Now, I know in recent years we have been moving away from some of our previous tactics, but I think even Joely would agree this is really our biggest, most fundamental test of that. We are dealing with seriously disturbed individuals. Now, on the other side of things, we have also staged large-scale peaceful protests and supervised the release of thousands of animals held captive by this state. In this case, we just won’t have the time or opportunity to employ both strategies. It’s a very public place and – well, we’ve been over that. As Paddy said, I think the choice we have on the 31st is quite simple. It’s between the mouse and the man. Has anyone got any problem with taking a vote on that? Joshua?’

Joshua sat on his hands to lift himself up and give Joely better purchase on his upper back massage. ‘No problem at all,’ he said.

On the 20th of December at precisely 00.00 hours, the phone rang in the Jones house. Irie shuffled downstairs in her nightdress and picked up the receiver.

Erhummmm. I would like you yourself to make a mental note of both the date and the time when I have chosen to ring you.’

‘What? Er… what? Is that Ryan? Look, Ryan, I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s midnight, yeah? Is there something you wanted or-’

‘Irie? Pickney? You dere?’

‘You granmuvver is on the telephone extension. She wished to talk to you also.’

‘Irie,’ said Hortense excitably. ‘You gwan have to speak up, me kyan hear nuttin’-’

‘Irie, I repeat: have you noted the date and the time of our call?’

‘What? Look, I can’t… I’m really tired… could this wait until…’

‘The 20th, Irie. At O hundred hours. Twos and zeros…’

‘You lissnin’, pickney? Mr Topps tryin’ to explain someting very im-par-tent.’

‘Gran, you’re going to have to talk one at a time… you just hauled me out of bed… I’m, like, totally knackered.’

‘Twos and zeros, Miss Jones. Signifying the year 2000. And do you know the month of my call?’

‘Ryan, it’s December. Is this really-’

‘The twelfth month, Irie. Corresponding to the twelve tribes of the children of Israel. Of which each woz sealed twelve thousand. Of the tribe of Judah woz sealed twelve thousand. Of the tribe of Reuben woz sealed twelve thousand. Of the tribe of Gad-’