'Heidi, you really do have no choice,' Agent Grant smiled gently, holding out her hands for the baby.

'There must be, surely....a mistake...please?'

Heidi begged the other woman.

Behind them, one of the heavily armed, and armoured, DDV Squad coughed awkwardly and flipped the screen, he hated it when they begged.

'Heidi Waite, by the Authority of the Dishonesty, Deviance and Violence Laws, we have determined this subject to be capable of Violence Against Citizenry, and, as such, the child is to be sent for processing. You have one minute to hand the subject into our custody, or lethal force will be employed.'

Four weapons were cocked noisily to punctuate his point.

'Time to say goodbye, Heidi, don't worry, we'll look after him now,' another gentle smile.

'But he's only a baby! My little T.S. Please?'

Heidi held the child to her breast, mother's instincts seeking to protect him, even though she knew there was no protection to be offered.

Six months old, and the child's own DNA had already sentenced him to death.

'T.S. like in Eliot?' One of her Squad asked.

Emma allowed the interruption. The Agent smiled kindly, keen to keep the mother calm.

' No…(who is Elliot?)....long story…T.S as in Thirty Seven.' Heidi laughed through her sadness.

She kissed him gently, her tears wetting his face, then, as any good Citizen would, handed him over to the Agent.

'Please, be….' She struggled to find the words, 'Don't let him …'

'Heidi, I promise, he'll be treated with respect, thank you for your cooperation, this is a copy of our findings and the verdict.'

Heidi gave her thumbprint, acknowledging the fact that she understood her son had been scanned, and that she further understood that he had been positively identified (99.8% probability) to be genetically capable of future Violence and that she gave the State her permission to protect Society from future harm, by any means deemed necessary.

The baby cried all the way to the transport.

Agent Grant grimaced, unconsciously touching her belly, praying her own tests would be normal, as she heard the Squad Leader radio in that they had 'Another EB for the shredders.'

Across the street, the woman pointed at the Agency activity.

'Do you really want to see inside one of them lad, coz that's where you're heading? It's a good job Dad's at work!'

'Dad's always at work.' the boy muttered to himself, hands thrust into his pockets, dreading the scolding he was in for once they got home.

'How could you, Andy? Really, how….and why?'

‘How could he?’ was the one question Linda hated knowing the answer to. She'd always known he was capable, but to actually commit a crime. She was at a loss; Rob would go mental.

Luckily, the store owner was a family friend and had alerted her before the authorities, he couldn't comprehend that Andy had done what he'd done, presumed the lad was sick.

She'd fished the last few credits from her bag, thanked him for his understanding, told him Andy had indeed been suffering from a bad cold, made the poor boy a little scatter-brained lately.

Although Andy knew very well how hard his dad was working lately, he didn't know why, resented the man's absenteeism, hated the new, tiny flat they'd moved into, hated the fact they never had any fun, mum constantly worried about money, worried about him.

Jeez, he wasn't a baby, could look after himself, find his own way to and from school, didn't need her constantly babying him!

But this was serious, he honestly thought he'd end up in one of those scary looking Agency vans, be treated as one of those deviants he'd learned about in Citizenry class. Andy searched his mind for the word, couldn't quite recall it, sounded like teeth, but that wasn't quite it.

He was a teeth! The thought made him giggle, smiling to himself at his own silliness.

'Glad you think it is funny, maybe eating bread and butter for the rest of the week will be hilarious for you.

Because, my lad, that's what your selfish, horrible, actions have caused. Me, you, and poor Pa! My poor Rob, he'll be taking a slice to work for days. Fourteen-hour shifts and nothing but bread and butter.

Linda was worried for her husband. He'd been working so very hard lately, they'd sold their apartment to pay….well, she wouldn't even allow herself to even think that dreadful man's name! But pay him they had.

Rob had taken it badly, signed up for double shifts, seven days a week, that kind, proud man was literally disappearing before her eyes.

Heavy manual work and little decent food were taking their toll on him. Rob laughed it off, saying he'd needed to lose a little weight, hard work never killed anyone, and at the end of the day, Andrew was worth every minute worked, every credit earned.

Rob would do anything for his wife and son, not a thought in his head for his own wellbeing.

But she worried every brief moment they managed to spend together.

Now this!

She held that thought as they climbed the stairs to the apartment, had that elevator worked one darned day since they moved in? She doubted it.

Andrew thankfully skipped ahead, young legs making light work of the seven flights.

Mum eventually joined him at the landing, fishing her keys from her empty purse, tutting to herself as she let them in, bending wearily to pick up the little charm that kept falling from her bracelet. It'd have to wait, more important things than spending credits getting a piece (her only piece) of jewellery fixed.

'No, you don't!'

She stopped him from heading to his bedroom.

Bedroom! What a joke! Andrew's only privacy, their only privacy, was afforded by a tired old curtain strung up in one corner of the room, a mattress on the floor, pages from comic books taped to the wall.

Those bloody comic books!

'Right, young man, we need to talk!'

Andy stood, thought about being defiant, saw the pain and anger on his mum's face and thought better of it. His lip started to tremble.

'Mom, I'm sorry, okay, I just….'

Tears came, but Linda steeled herself against her son's discomfort, this was far too important.

'Just what, Andy, tell me, I'd really love to know what you just….?'

'All the other kids get an allowance, pocket money, I'm just sick of being left out!

Jimbo said there was a new one out, really cool, and when I started reading it in the store, and then Mr Soong said he ain't running no library, buy it or leave, jeez, he's mean, I just….just put it in my pocket! Oh, Mom I'm sorry, really I am!'

This time she couldn't ignore his tears, knew he was genuinely sorry, forgot her anger and hugged him to her chest.

'Oh, Andy my boy, you don't know how, how dangerous what you did could've been. Taking stuff, even a comic, is what is called a crime, Andy, and you know what the Agency does with all those babies who are born…well.. born different?'

Andy nodded, although he'd only heard gruesome playground rumours about the babies, school just said they were taken away and 'processed', Andy didn't know what that meant, but he didn't like the idea of it happening to him.

'I need you to promise me lad, no….I need you to swear to me you will never, ever, take anything without paying for it first and that means if you don't have the money, don't pick it up, don't even look at it!'

'I swear Mom, honest I…'

Tears came to them both, Andy for disappointing his mom, Linda for what would happen if, or when, the boy's true nature was ever discovered.

Freewayriding