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meeting. At the end of the meeting however, as everyone was leaving, he took Alec to one side and suggested that the MoD interest should not be taken lightly and could be an interesting opportunity for the company.
    “In what was the MoD interested?” Alec had asked .
    “Not for me to say on that.”
    He ’d then offered to send people in to overview our security arrangements. Alec had accepted the offer but his jaw dropped when Stewart asked if we had recognised that it was possible that the ForceNet development could be restricted and classified in the national interest. He had refused to clarify what he meant and left.

CHAPTER 9
     
    Life for me had become further complicated with the arrival of my brother at my house one evening. Now, as I sat there at the back of the coffee shop drinking a second coffee I recalled that evening.
    Adrian is 10 years my junior and is at Cambridge where he is studying Mathematics. As brothers go we are very different. We both share the interest in Mathematics but whereas I am competent and managed a good degree, he is much cleverer and is probably going to be recognised as a brilliant mathematician one day. Whereas I am reasonably conventional and joined the commercial world when I graduated, he has stayed on to do a PhD at Cambridge and is something of a nerd with limited social skills and a passion for playing with computers. We are not particularly close but as my younger brother I had always looked after him following the de ath of our parents when I was seventeen . These days he didn't really need much looking after except for the occasional 'loan' to supplement his student finances. When I ’d opened the door to him that evening that was what I expected he had come for.
    “Hi Adrian, this is a surprise, good to see you. Come on in.”
    “Thanks, sorry I didn't call first.”
    “No matter, good to see you; get your coat off and come on through to the lounge. Do want a beer?”
    I ’d retrieved beers for us both from the kitchen and we ’d both sat down in front of the log fire that was glowing in the old fireplace. It was a cold night and as I had not brought any work home I had planned to sit in front of the fire and watch a movie. “Well, how are you?” I ’d asked, “how is the thesis going, are you nearly there? I don't expect I will fully understand it but I would love to read it when you are finished.”
    “It's going well,” he ’d responded. “I am working with a team in the area of quantum physics and I am focused on probability problems. We have been making some good progress and hopefully I will have enough for my thesis in about six months time. It's a really fascinating subject and I have been offered a job working with this team when I have finished the PhD.”
    “That sounds like good news. Have you eaten, I was just going to knock together a pasta, easy for me to increase the quantity for you?”
    “That would be great,” he said as he ’d followed me through to the kitchen, where I ’d put water on the stove to cook the pasta and began grating the Parmesan, and chopping the tomatoes and smoked bacon. “You have a really nice place here.”
    “Well it is nice to have it all finished and not be coming home to a builders mess every night.”
    “I can imagine.”
    Fifteen minutes later we ’d sat down again in front of the fire with a bowl of pasta and a glass of Brolio, my favourite Chianti.
    “This is good, I see you have not lost your culinary skills,” said Adrian, “worth the journey just for the food!”
    I ’d smiled, “talking of journeys, I assume you will stay tonight? The spare bedroom is ready and waiting.”
    “Yes, OK thanks.”
    We had cleared the empty food bowls in to the kitchen and the dishwasher and sat down again with a second glass of wine.
    “Well,” I ’d said after a few minutes of silence, “what's new?”
    “Nothing much apart from the job. My girlfriend has moved over to Pill.”
    “Ah! Is that why I am