The sixteen year old, thin youth was nervous, he went through his reactions from his full on sweaty palms, dry mouth and his heart beating ten to the dozen. It was stupid to be nervous, it was just a meeting with a bunch of old people with a shared interest in family history attending a weekly group at Kensington Library. Well, he needed help as he had no idea of where to start in his quest to trace where his parents came from, with the ultimate goal to see if he had any cousins or distant family. It was a necessity, because of his leukaemia. If he was fit and well he would have steered clear of anyone related to Ian Rider. This was his back up plan, just in case he needed a bone marrow transplant. The rule was that if his cancer came back, he would need to get the closest genetic match for a donor and a family member was the best bet. The closer the relation the better, only Alex had no one.

It was cold of him, as he really did not care if there were any Rider's or Beckett's out there. He blamed the godfather effect for that as Ash had been the ultimate Judas. First up was finding out where Helen Beckett and John Rider haled from. Considering he had been brought up by his paternal uncle, he had no idea where John or Ian had gone to school, only that Ian had a first from Cambridge and John had been career army until MI6 had gotten their claws into him. Ian had a bland 'home counties' standard English accent and never mentioned his past except in generalisations, not one long term friend or any other family were every discussed. He had never really told Alex anything meaningful about his parents, period. So here he was about to enter the Family History Room to see how you went about finding out about your past, when all you had was a couple of names, a few dates and two photos.

He had been putting this off since March, but he had been concentrating on his GCSE's. That hurdle was now done and dusted, coursework handed in and exams all done. This personal project may be a hiding to nothing, but it was a small thing on his to do list. He put his hand on the brass door plate and entered the anteroom.

"Hello?" his voice croaked and he felt like dying of embarrassment.

One of the old guys looked up from his files and notes and smiled "Good evening. Need some help getting started on your family tree?"

"Err… well, not really. I'm looking for living family members not dead. I'm an orphan, in foster care and well; I need to trace if have any family for medical reasons".

The seven people there were then staring at the teenager with the baseball cap on. Alex then unveiled his very wispy regrowth of soft blond hair. "Yeah, I have cancer, in remission thankfully, but just in case, its good to have a back up plan. My name's Alex Rider by the way."

"Right Alex, this is a slightly unusual search but I think we can all chip in and help. I'm Stephen by the way. Let me introduce everyone else.." The introductions included not just names but a summary of each person's goals at the group. As everyone gathered around to help Alex. He pulled out his short list of facts and his couple of photos of his birth parents.

So Alex learned about film and fiche readers and the wonders of internet searches. That evening Alex had a game plan but he was going to cheat. He emailed Derek Smithers and Paul Roscoe for ideas on more direct approach to searches. Alex already had his first pieces of information photocopied from the microfiche, Ian's death certificate and his parent's marriage certificate.

…

Sabina had graduated High School and was all set for Harvard in the Fall on a full scholarship. Her work fundraising as well as her excellent grades had not set her apart, but her school web page had, the interview panel had been very interested in her hard work on promoting inclusiveness and helping the wider community. She had also worked hard on the school paper and three of her articles had been published in the local paper, which meant she was seen as ticking all the right boxes for future investigative journalist with integrity and distinction. This summer, she was going to hang out with her friends and on top of that list was a week with Alex, before both of them joined her parents for a holiday in France.

On the plane journey, she had read through the family history project Alex had sent her. It had been a real detective story, finding out fact he had living relations, a uncle , half brother to John and Ian, and cousins he knew nothing about. He had hit a dead end with his mother, Helen Beckett had been an only child orphaned at fifteen, then brought up be maiden aunt. Both women were long dead. The only living family on the maternal side, were really distant cousins of descended from his Great-Great Uncle Matthias and living in New Zealand and South Africa.

John and Ian Rider had grown up in a hamlet called Little Hayfield in Derbyshire. John and Ian had a living half sibling and a step-brother, as their father had remarried in 1967, a fact that had probably caused the rift in the family. Daniel Rider and his family of wife Margaret and two children still lived at Hey Wood Farm, which had been in the Rider family for generations. He had a Great Aunt with four children and over fifteen cousins. Alex had still to find out if John and Ian's mother, Camille had any other family.

As the plane approached London, Sabina visited the bathroom and in the cramped space, had a good wash, brushed her hair and reapplied her make-up. She sprayed herself with her favourite perfume. It was classic and not overpowering. The fragrance was also a tradition, the same scent worn by her mother Liz.

…

Family for the sixteen year old was the Popler's and the Pleasure's, but Alex was curious about the big family row between Jack Rider and his sons, Ian and John; for them both to leave, never go back and in Ian's case never mention the place. Would he be opening a can of worms? It wasn't like Alex had any real experience with families. He did not foresee any close relationships forming as these people, who were all were living happy normal lives, having growing up in one place. No he was a fish out of water on this subject, but he decided for a long lost family member getting in touch, an over the phone introduction would not cut it. He was going to see what mess the Rider brothers had left and if anyone would talk to John's son. Unlikely as John had avoided a murder charge on a technicality. The reality of his 'legend' to get a foothold with Scorpia was still visible in old newspapers. His father in 1983 had been in Wormwood Scrubs on remand for murder. Probably the last time any of his family had heard of him or his younger brother, as none had come to Ian's funeral.

Alex packed his ruck sack and took it downstairs to the hall. Sabina was already there with her Blackberry in her hand, texting. Her skill was at communicating, via text, email, blog and various online chatrooms. Alex could guess she was actually ticking off her check list for the trip. Train tickets to Manchester, a million emergency phone numbers, and a to-do list from Jen and Liz on how to mother Alex to death.

"Taxi will be here in five, we should get to Euston with forty minutes to spare. Are you sure Ben's place in Manchester is suitable? Dad tells me horror stories about med students from his time at Uni. Dirty underwear everywhere, unhygienic kitchens and unspeakable toilets."

"He's a junior doctor and he was well trained by Jen. It'll be lovely. I bet Edward was actually telling you the details of his student accomodations. All that dirt and squalor will be artistic licence. We can ruin his life and tidy up anyway."

"Speak for yourself, Rider. I follow your advice since Scotland and make a habit of ignoring whatever my dad is researching. If I do not know what crap he's involved with, I will not be drawn into any plots, get kidnapped or threatened, or have any unfortunate accidents. So, its just a trip to Manchester to track down your Great Aunt Eleanor, then a visit to New Mills and see your uncle Daniel." Sabina then put away her phone only to pull out a compact and check her makeup.

"Yeah, simple." Alex was glad to cover himself up in his familiar disguise of hat, sunglasses and generic clothes.

….

Sabina looked at the map of the Peak District and double checked Alex's detailed travel plans and notes. Her partner in crime was asleep sprawled out on the double seat the other side of the table on the Virgin Train from Euston to Manchester. It was all quite an adventure, Sabina was also planning to visit the Coronation Street set, as she had never been to Manchester before. Ben Popler was living in a shared flat close to the Manchester Royal Infirmary, where he was about to start working as a junior doctor in A&E. Sabina was nervous about starting her undergraduate degree, but she would soon make friends and work very hard. She was already in contact with charities in the area. She would continue to do voluntary work. She then wondered if Alex would have the energy to do the voluntary work at the care home in Chelsea he'd signed up for in August. He had probably already timetabled to sleep most of July.

Alex woke as the train started to slow down for the stop in Stoke-on-Trent. He noted Sabina was reading the book she had bought at the railway station and he remembered that was how his good friend passed each journey with a newly bought book, be it good or bad, classic or modern. Sabina had been through many stations and airports in her short life.

"Sorry for falling asleep, I blame the rhythm of going over rails. Funny really, as I can never sleep on a plane." Alex stretched and sat up. "I never told you, but I went to Bermondsey to see the flat my mum lived in when she was working at Guy's, my first home. It was a pokey one bedroom flat in a council block. I never realised I had such low rent beginnings. I wonder if I'd still be there if my mum had divorced my dad instead of deciding to go to France with him."

Sabina stared at her good friend and tried to gauge what was going on in his head. "Playing what-if today. Not so long ago you told me there were no if, buts or maybes, just what happened; so deal with it. You have a lovely family now. I really like the Popler's. You even have dozens of siblings, considering Jen and Peterhave been fostering for longer than we've been alive."

"My mum's neighbour remembered her. I talked to Mrs. Patel. She gave me tea and fed me biscuits and told me my mother was a lovely and vivacious and that I was a beautiful baby. She also told me what a nasty piece of work my birth father was. He treated Helen shockingly. I have to wonder why she let him sting her along. He must have told her whopping lies considering he was an f-ing spy for the Bank."