"And that's the problem. So we have to decide whether or not we are going to go back on a seek and destroy mission, or simply report their existence to the authorities and hand them all Hugo's information, and hope for the best."
"I don't think the world is ready for this."
"I think you're right. Problem is, there are between thirty and fifty female iron metabolisers being held at the most fortified of these bases. This one is basically a massive underground bunker. Almost impenetrable. They have enough supplies for maybe three months, and then they will start to die. We can't let that happen. So we would either have to alert the police to what's going on, or we would have to go in and spring them. Hopefully there would be that are able to be integrated into society, but I'm equally sure some of them have converted to Jack's way of thinking. That would of course make them extremely dangerous to humanity. Oliver and I could sort the good from the bad, and we could destroy the bad, and release the good, but it would be very hard for us to do that, to execute female iron metabolisers."
"True. But you said you could just release the information to the authorities, and let them deal with the whole mess."
"But then the world would know of our existence. And we have stayed under the radar for so long now that it's become a habit that's really hard to break. We have a few days to discuss it before we have to make that decision, though."
"You would have to go back and be in danger again if you decided to intervene," I said, leaving my unhappiness with that course unspoken, but very much implied.
"Yes. Which is why you need to be involved in the discussion, love."
"Right," I said glumly, knowing there and then which option I would prefer. But it wasn't all about me, and I knew concessions would have to be made for how the others felt about it all. Damn. I could just see us all going back to sort this whole situation out. Then something occurred to me.
"It's my birthday tomorrow."
"I know."
"We're supposed to be getting married."
"Yes," said Angus slowly, not sure where I was going with this. His brows drew down in a worried frown.
"I'd like to postpone it if that's OK," I said.
"Any particular reason?" he was starting to look slightly alarmed now.
"Well, I guess I'd like my mother to be there, and maybe help me choose my dress, although her taste can be pretty dodgy sometimes. I've been so angry with her over the past few days, but this morning I realised that parents make mistakes. Loads of mistakes. Great big glaring mistakes. So I think I'm ready to start not being angry with her. I need her to be part of this. She's my mother."