Traitors Beyond Insanity

By MM Justine

Althonat Global’s, CEO, Dr Martina Strömstedt Edgren discovers a group of corrupt politicians and businessmen have hired a mad scientist to perform grotesque and inhumane experiments on unwilling human test subjects in a bid to push for new controversial regulations in the national healthcare system. At the onset of the controversy, Martina staked her life to save humanity. The battle turns personal, threatening her family.

As these foes continue to harass and spy on Martina, she does the same to them, steadily collecting the evidence she needs to expose their misdeeds, including corporate espionage, illegal experimentation, human trafficking and even murder.

She discovers a troubling link between a member of the group and her late father. The link leads her to China in a frightful bid to take control of a rival company. In China, the pharmaceutical war turns vicious. Martina is kidnapped.

Will Martina save herself? Find out in Traitors Beyond Insanity.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jan 21, 2019
• ISBN: 9781728382111

MM Justine

MM Justine, is a Swedish/Ugandan author. She was born in Uganda, the pearl of Africa, where she grew up on the shores of Lake Victoria, in Entebbe. She has traveled widely, lived, and worked on four continents. She long dreamed of writing stories relevant to our changing world. She finally plucked up the courage to write, The Traitors Trilogy. She is a corporate executive with long experience in both public and private sector. MM Justine lives in Sweden with her family.

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© 2019 MM Justine. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 01/21/2019

ISBN: 978-1-7283-8210-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-8211-1 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

www.mmjustine.com

Contents

Acknowledgements

About The Author

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Note From The Author

For Mom, for all time.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I owe my deepest gratitude to my publisher, Author House, for giving me a platform to voice my say. To my graphics designer, Ramwil Mendoza, thank you for your skills and contribution to the front and back cover of the book. To Angelique Jardine, my publication associate, thank you for providing me with insight and wisdom, and to my editor, Philip Newey, your time and expertise were invaluable in polishing the manuscript. I would like to express my gratitude to those who saw me through the writing process and those who read and reviewed the book and allowed me to quote their remarks. My very special thanks to Brenda and Ann for understanding my long days at the computer, and to Nasser, thank you for encouraging me to seek my dreams.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

MM Justine, is a Swedish/Ugandan author. She was born in Uganda, the pearl of Africa, where she grew up on the shores of Lake Victoria, in Entebbe. She has traveled widely, lived, and worked on four continents. She long dreamed of writing stories relevant to our changing world. She finally plucked up the courage to write, The Traitors Trilogy. She is a corporate executive with long experience in both public and private sector. MM Justine lives in Sweden with her family.

Chapter 1

On the western fringe of Geneva, Switzerland, in a wood-framed house, on a plot closed and gated, the six bankers sat stiff on their chairs. These were the shadow powers that ruled the universe. They dealt behind the curtains, changing the face of the earth, their thoughts and anger directed towards Dr Martina Strömstedt Edgren who had been a lonesome voice in the desert that had exposed their secret agenda. She had sent the strongest signal to the people and the medical and political enclaves that Life-Vaccine had caused global genocide. She had stepped out of line, gone too far, and deserved to be punished.

The men in dark suits and ties worked relentlessly to restore confidence in Life-Vaccine, dampen the aftershocks of the scandal, and remove any barriers blocking their progress. They had invested heavily in Life-Vaccine.

The supreme leader of Operation Rooting Out, Josef Fagerlind, sat with his shoulders shrugged up to his ears. He cleared his throat and addressed the six shadow leaders who wielded power over world citizens. Their interest was in private ownership of world resources and they imagined the task would go unchallenged and unnoticed, until a woman took on the mantle of saviour.

‘Humanity has failed to change their habits,’ said the old banker, his restless eyes pinning Josef.

Josef fidgeted with his fingers. ‘I’m afraid so. People are not adapting to the Life-Vaccine agenda.’

‘The world is doomed unless humanity submits to the new social order. Population reduction and less consumption are the modern tools towards a resource-saving attitude. Tell us more about this woman,’ said the man with full-rimmed glasses.

Josef spoke softly, shaking his head and blinking his eyes. ‘Dr Martina Strömstedt Edgren is a dangerous woman. She is blessed with wealth, intellect and power. But she uses her wealth to protect humanity. She is respected. Her words command authority. She provides momentum and encourages the ongoing riots against Life-Vaccine.’

‘How wealthy is she?’ asked the fat banker.

‘One hundred billion dollars in company assets, and more in medical inventions. She is the CEO at Althonat Global, a family company with sixty-six branches worldwide, and one hundred thousand employees.’

The conclave sat erect. To them, money was the only measure of human value.

‘Husband, children? How old is she?’ asked the bald man.

‘Thirty-four, sir. No husband, two young children,’ said Josef.

‘Well, true, she is a powerful woman but we can’t let her block our path,’ said the old banker with sagging jowls. ‘The current medical model must change, regardless of her. Science and innovation are tools we use to bring about change. Society must embrace new medical ideas. Despite her, the people will bend to our will.’

A cold draught gushed in through the open window, irritating Josef, who sat trembling in his wheelchair. He asked if someone could close the window. One of the men shut it with a bang.

Their demonic stares once again centred on Josef. He looked frail and sounded weak, and sometimes unmotivated. He was well paid, but his poor health and whining habits were annoying.

‘The oath of performance is binding, Josef,’ reminded the fat banker.

Josef’s jaw dropped. The words were nothing short of a threat. ‘I will do the job. I will stop this woman, and her company. Althonat Global will fade from its present glory. I guarantee, ninety-five percent of the world population will be injected with Life-Vaccine.’

‘Mr Fagerlind, I see you have understood your assignment,’ said the red-faced banker. ‘Your monthly reports on population reductions will be greatly appreciated. The people must comply with recommended medical procedures. This is the only way to save world resources.’

Josef took a cloth from his pocket and wiped sweat from his forehead, his hand shaking.

In a sudden surge, the six investors rose and left the room, leaving Josef with his thoughts.

Citaraph had been their means for channelling a global initiative to control the population. The initiative of a new social order, a covert, global-mandated vaccine to secretly reduce world population and save global resources, was slipping out of their grip. Mass hysteria and riots against Life-Vaccine were spreading across continents, and governments were taking a closer look at Life-Vaccine.

Dr Martina Strömstedt Edgren’s international newspaper, The Frangipani, had drummed up a frenzy, feeding the masses with scenarios of Life-Vaccine as a biochemical hazard, a toxin that warped natural DNA into synthetic DNA. A silent killer, and a deadly drug unfit for humans. Her message reverberated across nations. This propaganda, as they called it, was shaking the investments of the men in suits. If not abated, it would wreck their financial status.

Josef went to bed, but he wondered about the woman. Her late father, Dr Peter Strömstedt, had engineered a holistic miracle drug, Rensblad, and, when she took over the company, the drug became a global success, a cure for all diseases. Sadly, it was so effective it neutralized the lethal effects of Life-Vaccine. Martina had saved billions of people from imminent death. That alone put pressure on world resources. It was unacceptable.

Like a sharpshooter straining to see in the dark, Josef turned his attention to something he had read in the papers. Someone had filed a court case against Althonat Global concerning a legal claim in Rensblad. If he could dig up more facts about that claim, it would whip up a storm for the woman and her company.

Josef fell asleep with the idea milling in his brain. Tomorrow he would travel to Stockholm.

It was a race against time, a battle between good and evil.

Chapter 2

At night, Astrid, the housekeeper at Slottsville House, quivered in bed, her eyes closed. She dreamt Slottsville House looked different. It seemed she walked up the terrace by the rose garden, and for a while she could not find her way, for her path was barred. The weeds encroached upon the unkept gardens. Nature had, in an insidious way, crept upon the lawn, sprawled against the windows and onto the house itself. Trees, whose seeds had scattered from the woods, now marched in unison with creeping plants, thrusting ugly giant tentacles towards the soft grass where the daffodils had grown. Moonlight played upon her face. She made her way to the terrace and pushed open the main door, which cringed on its hinges. She stood in the foyer, hushed and still. The house was an empty shell without the life or breath it had before. Darkness shrouded the living room, and the drapes were gone. A chill blew softly in the night air, and there in the library the door stood half open as they had left it, with Martina’s books on the table beside the bowl of spring roses. The discarded copies of The Frangipani lay in a heap on the floor. ‘Martina,’ she hollered, but no answer came, only the echo of her voice.

A crying baby startled her out of her dream and she sat up rigid in bed. The digital clock on the mantlepiece gleamed 4 am. As if by chance, she saw the beams of a car’s headlights illuminate the bedroom window. She threw aside the bedding and rushed to the window. Peering behind the curtain, she opened the window a fraction. A police car. Strange voices susurrated above the wind. A sturdy, fuming woman shouted at the gatekeeper, but Astrid heard only the last word, ‘Baby!’ Then, the words ‘Life-Vaccine’ followed, spoken sharply. Astrid wrapped her morning gown about her and ran through the dark hallway.

For weeks, uncertainty and a sense of foreboding had settled upon the Strömstedt residence, at Slottsville House in Stockholm. It hung in the air, day and night. It came in dreams, and tension built as days turned to weeks. Despite the disturbing circumstances of Life-Vaccine, optimism had lingered in Astrid’s mind that peace might prevail, but now she realized she had been wrong.

The wind blew around the house, sighing and beating against the window pane, hissing mournfully like a lost, angry spirit. The long Scandinavian winter held a tight grip on the land, and the night air filled with weeping and sadness. The trees bent towards each other under the heavy snow, and the branches dripped with crystal-white snowflakes. The moon waned, and the early morning peace broke with a sudden commotion, a creeping of movements.

Astrid swept up a flight of stairs, quietly opened a door and entered a room. She sensed the fulfillment of a threat which had haunted the house for the last six weeks. She prayed that she could do what needed to be done quickly. Without flipping the light switch she gently touched her. ‘Martina, wake up,’ she said softly.

Blinded by darkness, Martina stretched in bed, disoriented by Astrid’s whispering voice.

‘The police are here. Quick, get up. Get dressed.’

Martina did not react but took a moment, adjusting her eyes to the darkness, confused by Astrid’s silhouette, unsure if it was a ghost. The metallic grind of a chain upon the gate brought a sudden urgency. Seized by panic, Astrid threw the beddings off her employer. ‘Get up. The police are coming!’

The words jolted Martina upwards. She held her head in her hands for a moment.

‘Move!’ said Astrid as she hurried from the room.

Dazed, Martina fumbled in the closet, looking for something to wear.

They met at the landing of the stairs, with Astrid carrying a baby strapped in a car baby bassinet. ‘Simon and Robert are waiting in the tunnel,’ she whispered.

The shrill of a ringing doorbell sent the women spinning down a narrow staircase to the basement. They dashed past a gym and out through the back door. The biting wind stung Martina’s cheeks. The frost turned her heavy breath into vapour.

Simon, Martina’s chief bodyguard, sprang up from the tunnel and took the baby from Astrid. He rushed down the path leading to the secret tunnel. A black Volvo SUV waited. He secured the baby in the back seat.

‘Will you be all right?’ asked Martina, turning to Astrid.

‘Go, quick, go.’ Astrid quickly closed the door and returned inside the house.

Robert, the chauffeur, held the car door open for Martina. She jumped in beside the baby, yawning a little. The car drew away. She felt a slight jolting of the springs as the car gained speed through the dusky tunnel to the secret underground gravel road, which was only known to the residents of Slottville House. The motion of the car was rhythmic, steady, and the pulse of her mind beat with it. A thousand images came to her when she closed her eyes, things past and things painful. They were jumbled together in a senseless pattern. The Life-Vaccine scourge, the lunacy of Citaraph, and its senseless, self-aggrandizing Group. Dr Grenzken, the mad scientist who had engineered Life-Vaccine, jailed in Kumla prison, Örebro county. Guazaroba, in South America and its leader General Pedro Estevez, her companion in the fight against Citaraph. Dr Steven Rangor at Equitzo Maximum Security Prison, and the corrupt government officials gone insane. A milliard of events which had forced her to send her oldest son, Joachim, to the States, to live with her brother Sebastian filled her mind. Now the scene replicated itself. She was on the run from the authorities to save her second child from Life-Vaccine.

Dawn was breaking. There were lights of passing cars upon the road. They headed towards Bromma Airport.

The ringing of the doorbell at Slottsville House escalated to a banging on the door. Astrid hurriedly opened the door. Two police officers and a woman she recognized as a nurse asked about the baby and if it had received a Life-Vaccine shot.

Astrid said there was no baby in the house.

They asked to search the house.

‘You’ll need a search warrant for that!’

The sturdy, angry woman frowned down at her. ‘The baby must get a Life-Vaccine shot today.’

‘Without a search warrant you have no business searching this property,’ said Astrid. ‘And if you don’t leave, I will file a case against you for unlawful harrassment.’ The officers relented, promising to return with a search warrant.

Chapter 3

The days grew shorter and the nights longer. The Winter Solstice darkened the Scandinavian sky. But the darkness was not a problem. Rather, the persistent tides of fear, and the suppression of the people, sucked the joy out of life. The hatred continued, with widespread civil disobedience sending a clear message to Citaraph that the people would not stand by and allow themselves to be plunged further into the destructive predicament Citaraph had devised.

Nations remained paralysed as the reaction against Life-Vaccine erupted into social unrest. Political instability threatened world goverments. Citaraph Pharmaceutical, the company behind the lethal drug, had a lot to answer for.

The medical scandal had been unveiled by a single woman, Dr Martina Strömstedt Edgren, the CEO at Althonat Global, a multinational company dealing in alternative medicine. She was loved by many but hated by some.

Martina stirred in bed, her eyes closed, her head moving from side to side on the pillow, tormented by shadows, people dropping dead from a deadly drug, while the criminal cabal behind it scornfully jeered at her. She started and sat up in bed, wide awake. The silence hung thick in the room. She focused on the digital clock on the sideboard. Past 6 am. She drew a sharp breath and pressed her hand against her forehead. She gazed around the room, seeking her bearings. Sleep still fogged her mind. She tried to remember where she was. Then it came to her: Hässelved Farm, southern Sweden, her childhood home; and the sudden escape from Slottsville House in Stockholm.

The sound of a crying baby aroused her. She slid out of bed, wrapped a morning robe about her frame and hurried to the nursery. In the hallway, she bumped into Astrid with the baby in her arms.

‘He just woke up,’ said Astrid.

‘When did you arrive?’ asked Martina. ‘I didn’t expect you so early. The private jet is returning this evening. I had told John to make sure you were aboard.’

‘Captain John called, but I told him I would take the train. Simon picked me up this morning at the station.’

‘Get some sleep,’ said Martina kindly, as she took the baby from her arms.

‘I already changed his nappy,’ said Astrid with a smile as she walked off to her bedroom.

Martina settled on the sofa in the nursery and held the baby to her face. She smiled and kissed his soft cheeks, happy she had brought him into the world, yet sad that nasty forces threatened humanity. ‘You look hungry, sweetheart.’ She nursed him. The baby squeaked once and warmed to her affection. He suckled greedily.

A white crib dominated one side of the room. Muted green wallpaper with themes of natural flora harmonized the décor. A crystal chandelier hung from the high ceiling, but a dim glow emanated only from a white lampshade on the sideboard, giving the room an agreeable lustre.

Amid the Life-Vaccine holocaust, she had returned from Guazaroba. A month later she had given birth to Peter. Things were bad, but she hadn’t anticipated an early morning visit from the police so soon. Her baby was hunted like a criminal. The situation was traumatic. It made her angry. She must protect Peter from the mandatory Life-Vaccine. She kept a keen eye on his height and weight. He was following a normal growth pattern, consistent with the curve on the chart. Luckily, she was a paediatrician. She needed no one to tell her how to care for her baby.

Citaraph was in a tight corner. Amidst accusations of genocide, it continued to push Life-Vaccine as a safe and effective treatment against disease. Health was not their concern. They lied to oppress the people, to accomplish their goal, a secret agenda to depopulate the world for material wealth. Governments struggled to calm communities while they colluded with Citaraph, but the masses relentlessly demanded justice.

According to news reports, Citaraph headquarters in Stockholm had been vandalized by angry mobs and forced to close temporarily. Riots kept police alert. Martina appreciated the peace and quiet in the countryside, but wondered how far Citaraph would go to protect a lethal drug.

What she had seen in Guazaroba, a small South American nation ravaged by Life-Vaccine, had frightened her. Faces of the sick continually spooked her thoughts. She prayed for Citaraph to stop the terror.

The baby sighed and looked up at her.

‘Satisfied?’ She rested him on her chest and rubbed his back until he burped. She held him up, studied him, remembering her own feelings a year ago, filled with hope and anxiety. The challenge of raising a family while running a global business. A mother of two, with her youth behind her, she still worried about the future. Her first marriage with Thomas Edgren, the father of her first son, Joachim, had ended in divorce.

She had travelled a rough road, struggled to save humanity while her personal life spiralled into chaos. Peter’s father, Dr Jonas Eneroth, her chief medical officer at Althonat Hospital in Stockholm, had failed the company’s background security check. She was devastated to think Jonas was a traitor. She had cancelled the wedding, surprising everyone. But when she had investigated him the results were positive. He wasn’t a traitor. They had patched up their relationship, and, when Peter was born, the heavens smiled down upon them.

The baby stared at her as if empathizing with her dilemmas. He smiled at her for the first time.

‘That’s the cutest smile I’ve ever seen,’ she said.

Peter fell asleep in her arms. She laid him in the crib.

She stood by the window, observing the silvery landscape. It was snowing. She had grown up on this elaborate farm, where her father, Dr Peter Strömstedt, had engineered the herbal wonder drug, Rensblad. But unfavourable winds had turned against him when he presented his studies to the medical establishment. Due to problems, the drug did not go into production until Martina took over the business after his death. His studies were rejected, forcing him to resign from the Radium Institute. He had relocated to the States where he continued his work and launched Althonat Global.

She had just returned from a business trip in Japan, only to be told her parents had passed in a tragic car accident. It was a difficult time, a painful period. It had come too early, and it was gone too soon, like the passing of a bad dream. She had been unprepared to step into her father’s shoes and take over Althonat Global. At the onset, she was intimidated by the task but followed her instincts, based on what her father would have done. They had been close and often shared the same views on business. She missed her parents, her mother’s talking about unimportant things, and her father telling childhood stories about Hässelved. The house, which had been filled with laughter, now echoed in silence. The grief was always there, but she had learnt to live with it. She had surprised the medical industry when she expanded Althonat Global into sixty-six countries specializing in research, innovation, medical care, development, manufacturing, marketing, and distribution. Althonat Global focused on treating the whole person, body, soul, and spirit, with emphasis on natural herbs and alternative therapies which propelled the body into self-healing. Drugs and surgery were kept to a minimum. She determined to modernize medicine, but that had sparked anger in the medical industry, causing an ongoing feud with Citaraph, who had responded by engineering a lethal drug, Life-Vaccine, demonstrating that the health care system was a disease-and-death scheme. Now, together with a corrupt group of politicians, they had extended their devious manhunt to babies … to her son, to inject him with a deadly drug, under the guise of healthcare, in a secret agenda to save world resources. Martina shuddered. She must destroy Citaraph and rid the world of Life-Vaccine.

In the kitchen, Astrid filled her in on what had happened when the police officers had returned to Slottsville House with a search warrant. She had transformed the nursery into a meditation room, and when they searched the buildings there was no sign of any baby in the house. As they left, she heard one of the officers say, ‘I think it’s the wrong address.’

That was a narrow escape, thought Martina. ‘Astrid, thanks for being resourceful and vigilant. This could have ended in catastrophe.’

Astrid nodded and smiled.

Since the death of her parents, Martina had become trapped in the unexpected role of a warrior. She had moved the power balance to the recipients, the patients, the people. She had taught the masses to make educated choices about individual health care and to be cautious about fraudsters who promoted injecting foreign stuff into their bodies. She used her resources to even out the battlefield against Citaraph. She staked her life to save humanity.

This recent move to inject newborn babies with Life-Vaccine was insane. Some said it was a scandal, others that it was the Nazis returning to finish off humanity.

Jonas arrived on Saturday morning and headed straight to the nursery. He held his son to his chest and sighed at the baby’s soft scent. Nothing in the world mattered but this.

Martina looked grave as she worked around the nursery, putting things in order. Jonas read the fear in her eyes. He had been surprised when Martina called him to say they were in Småland, at Hässelved Farm. She had told him about the hectic move from Stockholm, and why they must protect Peter. But why Hässelved? It’s far away from Stockholm. He worried about Martina and the baby.

He paced the floor with the baby in his arms, anger evident on his face. He asked Martina if she had gotten the names of the officers.

‘Why, Jonas, what does it matter?’ Martina rapidly folded the clothes, putting them neatly in a drawer. ‘Our responsibility is to protect Peter, that’s all.’

‘Martina, this is madness.’

‘There’s nothing we can do.’

‘I’ll file a case against the officers. I’ll fight this to the highest court in the land.’

‘You will do no such thing,’ said Martina, turning to him. ‘Everyone objecting to Life-Vaccine is thrown in jail. You and I will go to jail. Remember the Stein family?’

Jonas stilled. He did not want his son growing up in a foster home. ‘Then what do you suggest we do?’

‘We’ll keep a low profile. We’ll stay here.’

Jonas looked around the newly refurbished nursery perplexed, thinking about the old lady they had once visited in this house, the owner of Hässelved. ‘Did Mildred say you could stay here?’

‘Mildred moved to a nursing home. I bought Hässelved Farm.’

Jonas looked as if he had been hit by an unexpected blow. They had agreed to marry, settle down and work in Stockholm, build a family and enjoy a modest, peaceful life. Now he wondered if Martina had other plans. The tide had turned against them, threatening to wash them away. They lived in a volatile age where dreams failed and the sociopaths expanded their grip on society. They smashed lives. They hunted babies to inject with Life-Vaccine in the guise of healthcare. Empathy and morals were outdated, bad deeds commended, and good actions downplayed and supressed. Humanity was nothing but a tool to be manipulated, maimed, laughed at, and played like pieces on a chessboard.

He could see the years spanning forward with the oppressive hand of Citaraph controlling and exploiting people for profit, with a false reality built around the market, turning the valueless into the valuable. They scattered families, in the quest to harmonize humankind and exploit natural resources. They had lost their freedom. They were fugitives in their own country.

‘Martina, I know these are frightening times, but don’t you think this is a big move?’ He gently rocked the baby in his arms.

‘I know, darling, but Stockholm is too dangerous right now.’

‘Which means I have to commute whenever I want to see Peter.’

‘You can take the private jet. I’ll speak to Captain John.’

‘No, don’t do that. I’ll take the regular flights. I’m just sick of it all.’

The weekend ended, and Jonas returned to duty at Althonat Hospital in Stockholm, leaving Martina thoughtful. Though her world seemed to collapse temporarily, Martina loved living in the country, and Hässelved was who she was, a country girl. But it angered her that the choice had come about through repressive circumstances. Sometimes she felt confined, forced into a dark corner with seemingly no options, her life controlled by external forces. All that talk about keeping a low profile did not resonate with her, but she had to rein in Jonas’ belligerent spirit. Turning against the law would only breed nightmares, for the law had become the tool of oppression, not enacted by government but by Citaraph. She pondered on how to destroy Citaraph.

She could hear the wind rustling against windows as it swept across the frozen landscape. The Christmas season was upon them. Her brother Sebastian and family would soon arrive from Washington, DC, for the Christmas celebrations. Sebastian was Sweden’s military attaché, at the Swedish Embassy, in the States. As a tradition the two families always celebrated Christmas together. Sebastian had been exhilarated when Martina had called to tell him they would be celebrating Christmas in their childhood home. Martina smiled. She looked forward to seeing Sebastian and his family. She rushed to the kitchen and asked Astrid to prepare the east wing for the guests.

In a week, the guests arrived with a burst of enthusiasm; Sebastian with his wife, Henrietta, two daughters and Martina’s oldest, seven-year-old son, Joachim. Joachim had grown tall, thought Martina as she hugged him and kissed his cheeks. He looked well. America was safe. The new administration had rejected Life-Vaccine. The silent house filled with spontaneous talk and laughter. In the living room, a warm blaze hissed in the fireplace. Baby Peter lay in the bassinet unruffled by the attention. They came one after another, clustered around him, exhibiting awe and wonder.

‘Oh, such an adorable little boy!’ said Henrietta, Sebastian’s wife, tilting her head to the side. Henrietta was a loquacious, vibrant woman. One could tell she was an American.

‘What’s his name?’ asked Stephanie, Sebastian’s ten-year-old daughter.

‘Peter,’ said Martina with a smile.

‘That was late Grandpa’s name,’ said Pamela, Sebastian’s youngest daughter.

‘Yes, it was,’ said Martina.

Sebastian crouched down to introduce himself to his new nephew. ‘You’ve that strong Strömstedt chin.’ He tickled Peter’s toe. The baby peered at what might be a strange world and yawned.

‘Eh! What a tiny little mouth!’ started Joachim at his baby half-brother. A burst of loud laughter rang throughout the room.

‘How old is he?’ asked Stephanie.

‘Six weeks.’

‘Such a doll!’ Pamela laughed, and more laughter echoed in the room to the general pleasure of everyone.

Sebastian spun around to take in the refurbished living room. The windows had been double glazed, commanding a spectacular view over the northern fields.

Martina led the troop on a grand tour of the two-storey mansion. The kitchen extended into a new, larger dining room. Through the diner, a grand door opened into the old banquet hall which had been overhauled into a glass-roofed summer room.

The TV room/playroom on the ground floor had not changed, but two guest rooms had been added.

‘I opened up the space to create a new layout and I added more rooms,’ said Martina to Sebastian.

‘I like the light and open space.’ Sebastian flew up the elegantly revamped wooden balustrade staircase. He wanted to see what Martina had done upstairs. On the landing, they came through the archway to an expansive hall with a fireplace that gave a tranquil feel to the area. ‘Exquisite!’ said Sebastian, turning to face his wife, who stood right behind him.

They entered his old bedroom where he had slept as a boy. He gasped at the spacious room with walk-in wardrobe, and a stunning view across the valley and skiing slopes. He opened the glass sliding doors and walked to the balcony to admire the frosty view. The wind disorganized his sleek blonde hair. He whistled.

‘I demolished a wall and merged two rooms to create an en-suite bedroom for you and Henrietta,’ explained Martina when Sebastian returned to the room.

‘I see you maintained the beams,’ said Sebastian, looking at the ceiling. ‘Great job, Martina. I love it.’

‘Stephanie and Pamela have their rooms across the hall, all en-suite with balconies,’ said Martina. ‘Joachim will sleep in the west wing with me and Peter.’

‘Superb, and tastefully decked,’ said Henrietta, directing her gaze to the abstract paintings on the walls.

The children rollicked noisily in the playroom.

They walked downstairs, out onto the terrace, Martina leading Sebastian and Henrietta across the sloping lawns through a gusty wind, the snow crunching under their boots. They passed the rose garden which rested under the frozen snow. A new building was taking shape beyond the lawns at the edge of the woods. Surely the trees, ever a menace, had multiplied, and the choked wilderness had encroached upon the farmland with long, tenacious fingers. They crowded, dark and uncontrolled, to the borders of the drive. In the distance were farmhouses, stables, homes for farm workers, livestock barns and shelters; machinery- and supply-storage buildings, surrounded by six thousand acres of fields and forestland. They strolled down the path to a labyrinth, a fine, quadrangular hedge, inside of which stood a contemporary building.