"It's this one," Hannah said, pointing to her left.

Tucker pulled the car over, switched off the engine and they both looked around. The street was bathed in the artificial orange glow of the street lamps. Immaculately presented homes were positioned comfortably apart on either side, set back off the road, behind long lawns and herbaceous borders. Whilst not as affluent as the area where Diana and John lived, Pretta Heights was still a place of privilege and more importantly of high SPR scores. The particular property they were concerned with had a single driveway leading to an integral garage, set into a small, bungalow, with two bay-windows either side of a darkly painted front door. A low light came from one of the windows.

"Ok, so are we gonna sit here all night, or what?" Tucker asked.

Hannah took a deep breath, opened the door and climbed out, her eyes glued to the small home.

"I'm sure I've been here before," Hannah said

"These places all look the same, Hannah."

"I guess, but I am sure my mum brought me here when I was little."

They walked up the driveway and along the small path leading to the front door.

Hannah gripped the door knocker, rapped it twice and waited. No one came. She knocked again.

"It's late, Hannah, maybe she doesn't answer the door after dark."

Hannah bent down and lifted the letter box and called in.

"Mrs Holland, Mrs Anne Holland. I need to speak to you urgently." She waited and was sure she heard movement just out of her line of sight. "Mrs Holland, please it's very important that I speak to you right now."

"Go away," a frail voice called out to her.

"Please Mrs Holland, my name is Hannah Green and I really do need to speak to you."

A light came on behind the door, shining through the opened letter box. Hannah closed it and stood up straight. A shuffling noise could be heard the other side of the door followed by a chain being lifted and several locks being turned.

A small woman, leaning on a cane opened the door and looked Hannah up and down. She briefly turned her attention to Tucker and tutted loudly.

"I suppose you'd better come in then," she said and moved to the side.

Hannah entered first, followed by Tucker and the woman closed the door behind them, replacing the chain and turning both locks.

"Head into the sitting room, first door on your right," she instructed.

Hannah and Tucker entered the room, hit immediately by a fierce heat radiating off an open fire. The room was simply furnished; two wingback chairs on either side of the fire and a small sofa in the centre, positioned behind a small coffee table.

"Please, sit," the woman said, indicating to the sofa, as she carefully lowered herself into one of the armchairs.

"Well, I must say, Hannah, you have grown into a fine looking young woman."

"Thank you," Hannah replied. "I'm sorry to bother you at such a late time, but this really couldn't wait any longer."

Hannah looked closely at the woman. Short and slight of build, her clothes hung off her elderly frame. Anne Holland looked to be in her late seventies, possibly older. Her silver hair was tied up in a bun and the remnants of a plum-coloured lipstick stained the creases around her mouth. Behind thin-framed spectacles, her pale eyes studied Hannah for a long time and then turned their attention to the fire, seemingly transfixed by the flickering flames and glowing coals.

"I think we ought to go, Hannah," Tucker whispered, "she doesn't seem to be all there."

Hannah shushed at Tucker.

"You were the last baby I ever placed Hannah," Anne said suddenly. "Once your parents signed the paperwork, I returned to the office and retired, I just couldn't do it anymore. Seems like such a long time ago now. Did I place you in the right home, Hannah? Have you been happy?

Hannah looked at the elderly woman surprised to see and hear such concern.

"You placed me in a lovely home, Anne. My parents are wonderful people."

Anne removed a handkerchief from the pocket of her beige woollen cardigan and wiped at a tear that rolled down her cheek.

"That's good to hear." Anne said and blew her nose. "I placed you, Tucker just a few weeks earlier."

Tucker had been staring into the fire, the warmth making him feel drowsy. But with the mention of his name, he now sat upright and alert.

"And was my choice for your parents as successful?" She asked him.

Tucker lowered his eyes and slowly shook his head from side to side. "Unfortunately not."

Hannah looked at her friend and it dawned on her how little she knew of his upbringing. He rarely spoke of his adoptive family, always so quick to change the subject or make a joke.

"Towards the end, things were so difficult. We tried hard to screen the recipients, to make sure that we were placing you all in homes where you would be safe and loved, but mistakes were made and I am sorry for that." She wiped away the tears that were coming more frequently.

Tucker shrugged his shoulders, but unusually said nothing.

"At the time we felt so right, so justified in what we were doing. Eastman was very persuasive, but later, as the years went by some of us did question our actions and whether it was worth the risk."

"You knew!" Hannah said sharply. "You placed us, knowing we weren't Flawed!"

The old woman fiddled with the handkerchief. "Yes."

"Did my mother know?"

"No, Hannah, she didn't. She was aware of some things later, but not everything. Even in the midst of her grief over losing her baby, she would never have taken you had she known the truth."

"So you lied to her, you lied to them all."

"The first lie is always the hardest to tell, but over time it becomes a lot easier. By the time of your adoption, I was buried up to my neck in deceit; the lies and truth seemed to distort into one another.

"How did Eastman pick us and why go to such trouble?" Tucker asked, having finally found his voice.

"How much do you know about Eastman and your demotion?" Anne asked.

Hannah quickly gave her an edited summary of what she knew already. She told Anne of Eastman's letter and how she was first approached by Zeke. She didn't name him though and decided for the time being not to mention that she knew Cecily was still alive. Tucker listened intently, much of the information new to him. Anne sat quietly processing Hannah's story. A clock on the mantelpiece chimed ten times interrupting the silence.

"You know more than I expected, but I have a feeling you haven't told me everything either".

Hannah looked away from her.

"Never mind, each of us is entitled to our secrets." Anne paused and gazed back to the fire, for a moment lost to her own thoughts. Then she began her story. "I first met Charlie when he was on rotation in hospital. I initially trained to be a midwife and Charlie and I often worked the nightshifts together. He was a driven young man, but unlike many of the others, Charlie's main concern really was for the welfare of his patients and not the prestige. He would happily work anywhere in hospital, from the low SPR floors to the luxury birthing suites on the top floor. Even in those early days he was a strong advocate of universal healthcare and the inequality he witnessed in his job affected him deeply. It was the difference in the infant mortality between the SPR bands that really sickened him. Even today, for every two infant deaths per thousand for people of your level, there are one hundred and seventy in the fifty to sixty-nine SPR band. Worse still, below thirty, the figures are truly hellish and even then most go unrecorded. Day in day out, Charlie signed death certificates. Those poor little mites, each one a victim of the lottery of birth, doomed before they were even born. "

Hannah's throat tightened, reminded of just how lucky she really was.

"Most people never get to see the whole picture; the effect division truly has on our society; but Charlie did though. That's why he moved into general practice. He could have had the pick of any practice but he stood firm and set one up in the Flawed areas. He really wanted to help, to make a difference and he succeeded to some extent. Infection rates dropped, children were inoculated and many, many people found their SPR rates didn't drop as quickly as they had been. But it was meeting Cecily that galvanised him. I was one of the few people who knew that he'd fallen in love with a Flawed. At that stage I'd become a community midwife and spent several days a month at his practice offering prenatal care. Those were in the days long before Briggs did away with such care. I saw their love grow, witnessed the affect that her love had on him. But I also saw how her death broke him. His desire for equality never changed, but from that point on he became fixated with it and overwhelmingly obsessed with hurting Briggs in the process."

"But why choose us, why then?" Hannah asked.

"The fact that you were chosen I believe was entirely random, but the timing wasn't."

Hannah and Tucker looked at each other, both shrugging their shoulders at the same time.

"How do you not know?" Anne asked. "This week it will be the hundred year anniversary of the introduction of the 'Assessment' movement. A hundred years since the introduction of SPR assessment."

"Such historically important dates aren't taught in the Flawed curriculum," Tucker almost spat at her.

"No I suppose they aren't," Anne replied quietly.

"I thought the segregation had been going on for longer than that," Hannah said.

"Oh my dear, segregation has been going on for millennia. Wealth, sex, race, birthplace, age and countless other factors were all means by which the population were divided. But it was only one hundred years ago that a formal process was introduced. Not as technical or scientifically- driven as today, but just as successful non-the-less."

"You mean there was a time when people didn't have a number?" Tucker asked his eyes wide."

"Indeed. Towards the end of his life, my father often talked about the day it was introduced. You see, the population were given no warning. None of them were aware that for years before, the government had been allocating points to the population. The only indication something was up was the introduction of martial law in the weeks leading up to the announcement and the scarcity of food and fuel supplies. Then one day, every person in the country was ordered, under threat of arrest to go to their local council office and there they were given a letter. On it was their SPR number and information detailing their new, formalised position in society and any restrictions imposed on them."

"What did the people do?" Hannah asked.

"Well it depended entirely on their SPR level. Those, with SPR's over eighty generally accepted their number and thanked their gods and fate that they weren't Flawed. Those that were Flawed understandably took up arms but were very quickly put down in the most cruel and brutal way."

"Didn't anyone from the higher levels speak out and oppose the government?" Tucker clenched his fists.

"Oh yes, many did, but they too were soon silenced. Those in opposition just disappeared, their families too. Soon there were no voices of dissent left; in public at least. My uncle, who attended a couple of rallies in town, was taken away in the middle of the night for questioning; he never returned. My father was busy running his business during the rallies and didn't have time to attend or else he would have been taken too I'm sure. He ran a textiles factory that made uniforms for the army and I think that is what saved my mother and father. I didn't find out that my father even once had a brother until I was in my forties, just after my mother died. I found him drunk and rambling. It broke my heart to see him in so much pain. Looking back now I see that although I was ignorant of my family tree, the spectre of my uncle haunted us every day. My father was so strict with our upbringing; we knew that the law and the government should be followed absolutely. We were reminded every day of how lucky we were and that we shouldn't do anything to jeopardise that. On his death bed, not long after my mother passed, my father apologised and told me to open my eyes and see everything for what it truly was. "

"So if you knew all of this why did you continue to work for the state? How could you?" Hannah stared at Anne; the old woman's tears ran continuously down her face.

"Hannah, bravery in this society is for the dumb or the dead. Haven't you ever wanted to fight, but not had the means to do so? For the latter part of my career, when antenatal care was only available to those that could afford it, I was given two options: either assist in the SPR evaluation process and inevitably remove children from their mothers, or work hard to rehome the unwanted babies and try to give them the best life possible. I chose the route that wouldn't break my heart or darken my soul as much. I know that I am not long for this world and I am ready to meet my god and it is for him and only him to condemn me now. I condemned myself years ago."

"So how does all this relate to us?" Hannah asked, feeling annoyed at the growing sympathy she had to the woman.

"Briggs once told Charlie that enshrined in law, was the requirement for the government of the day to review the SPR levels every twenty five years; the SPR levels had to be raised or lowered according to the needs of the state. Charlie had argued that there would be no need to take such a measure and to try to imagine how he would feel if he had children and they were suddenly reclassified as Flawed. I will never forget the look on Charlie's face when he told me Briggs's answer to his question."

"What did Briggs reply?" Tucker interrupted, now sat perched on the end of the chair.

"His reply to Charlie was simple. He said that no child of his would ever be Flawed and that he had no need to worry. He was right too, just look at you both and the others; all the model of perfection. Eastman chose well when he selected your mothers, each one an 'ideal' subject, Charlie had to do a bit of work on Briggs side though. In fact it would be fair to say that you have three parents; your mother, Briggs and science."

"So you are saying that Eastman took his revenge by giving Briggs 'perfect' children and then taking them away to live as Flawed?" Hannah said. "But I don't understand; how is that revenge?"

"Oh but you are only seeing half of the story Hannah. Briggs also told Charlie that the Statute of Law also said that if a person ever achieved an SPR score of one hundred, then they would be given the position as rightful ruler of this nation. Hannah, Eastman didn't just create you to anger Briggs, he created you to rule and rule us not with the mind-set of perfection, but with the heart of a Flawed."