Chapter Two

Malcolm Reed let out a small sigh of relief as he stepped into his quarters. It had been a long night of questions no one could answer, explanations no-one could understand, and revelations no-one wanted to hear.

And now it was done. Twelve people who had thought they had left behind a shadier side of their past were now faced with the irrevocable fact that they would soon not only have to face up to that fact, but that they would also have to reveal their true selves to their unsuspecting crewmates. And that was not an idea that Malcolm Stuart Reed really liked the thought of.
He was exhausted. But, before he allowed himself to take those precious few hours of sleep he still had time for, he had one thing he needed to do.

Reluctantly he placed his hand in his pocket, and pulled out a small, bronze key, engraved with his initials. On his desk was a box he had placed there before he had left for the meeting, knowing it was something he would need before the night was over.

The key fitted perfectly into the lock, and the box opened, the dust rising from it causing him to sneeze. And there it was - a slender piece of wood, hornbeam, if he remembered correctly, 9 and a half inches long. The handle still fitted perfectly into his fist. He hadn't picked it up for years - hadn't needed to, hadn't wanted to. He remembered, all too clearly, the day he had got it... and the day he'd learned he was going to need such a thing.
His father had sat down on the edge of his son's bed, a serious expression on his face. It was then that he'd enlightened his son to the fact that the navy wasn't the only family tradition he'd inherited. Five weeks later, Malcolm's bags were packed and he was on a train heading towards the far reaches of Scotland's highest peaks. His mother had believed he was going to the same boarding school as his father had, and his grandfather before him. Well, he was, but it wasn't exactly the type of boarding school she had though it to be.

Six years later his sister had joined him, just as full of wonder as Malcolm had been when he'd first arrived. But when he left the school, he realised that life wasn't quite so rosy away from the protective privacy of the place he'd called his home for the last seven years.

And so he, just like his father, and his grandfather before him, he locked away all knowledge of his... abnormality... and broke contact with anyone who might prevent him from leading a normal life.

But inevitably, he was drawn back in. He became quite successful, as a... security man, of sorts. Then one day, his cover was blown. Though in the end no harm was done, for Malcolm it was the last straw. And so he had locked it all away, once again, for good this time.

That was, until he'd received that bloody letter.

888

TBC.

A/N: I was thinking about doing the next chapter partly on Trip's reflections upon the sudden revelations in his life - please tell me what you think!