The summer changes to a lazy autumn; it seems intent on just getting the leaves off the trees as quickly as it can so that it can rest while winter takes over a month or two early.

The amoeba convulses, and along with the recent rains, its new found strength helps it to break free from the dirt that had encased it these past few months. During its incarceration the amoeba hasn't been idle, while its body slept it has also been busily developing new tools to aid in its survival. It is still about the size of a five pence piece, and with the same translucent flesh. Inside however there is evidence of far more activity. The black nucleus has increased five-fold in size, wispy strands, at least twenty, flail out from the nucleus, each one ending in a tiny flickering light. The wispy strands are in fact very crude neurotransmitters that have formed to help use its new abilities. So that it can use its newly formed, crude legs. Its new ability to solidify itself should the need arise, its ability to become atomically part of any substance; and best of all, the one ability that stands head and shoulders above the rest is, to the amoeba at least, the ability to see. It hasn't developed eyes, but sees by vibrating its legs quickly on a surface. The vibrations fan out and build up a picture of the surroundings that are registered within the amoeba's expanding brain. The picture is so good that, were it able to, it could count the hairs on your head.

The amoeba vibrates its legs on the floor, exercising the skill yet at the same time building a very graphical picture of the immediate surroundings which is good for about five hundred square meters. One thing the amoeba has missed these past few months is food. Its scan picks up a creature scuttling towards it; and that creature is a rat.

Victor Levin emigrated from Russia eight years ago, the economy was collapsing and he wanted to invest his money in something that would make sure his forthcoming family had everything they'd need for the rest of their lives. He has always been a lover of films and through these was where his first fantasies of living in England were born. The morning his wife, Martina, was sick, they both knew what had happened, they had been trying for a baby for some time.

With the news barely fresh in his mind, Victor set about making his fantasy a reality. He'd been looking at brochures for years, and recently he'd set his heart on two businesses. One of them was a bed and breakfast on England's south coast, twenty rooms and barely a stones throw from the sea, even now Victor finds himself thinking about what might have been had he chosen it. Instead he chose the other option, a farm in the English countryside. He chose to grow rape, due to its high yield and equally high return. The deal was made and now nine years later Victor has made a success of the farm.

"Daddy." Squeals Nicholas in delight. "Stop it." Victor stops tickling him and laughs along with his son's joyful titter.

"You better get off to school." Victor tells him once the excitement has petered out somewhat. "Good grades don't drop from the sky you know." Victor mocks a dead arm as Nicholas punches him on the way out of the door and pretends to chase after him, laughing as Nicholas sprints away.

"He's a good boy." Martina says, arriving to stand next to her husband. Victor nods as they watch their son disappear out of sight. "It's going to kill him when you're gone." Victor hangs his head, once again reminded of the lung cancer that the doctors say will kill him in twelve months.

"That is why you must be there for him." Victor says after a time. "Your grief, to him, must be minimal, you will be his rock." Martina turns her head from him, not wanting him to see her fighting back the tears. Victor takes her into his arms and makes soothing noises into her hair.

The amoeba scuttles towards the rat and finds it nibbling on a half eaten chocolate bar that someone must have dropped. The rat's keen ears pick up no movement, no impending danger, it feels nothing as the amoeba dissolves into its skin. The amoeba wastes no time in travelling into the rat's brain and it feeds ravenously. So ravenously that the rat is white and dying barely twenty minutes later. The amoeba makes quick its escape before the harmful gasses are emitted, scuttling away from the rat in a frantic search for another host. It doesn't have to search long.

Nicholas returns home from school. "Barney!" he shouts, a slight concerned look on his face as Barney is the family dog, a beautiful golden retriever, who always meets him from school. Nicholas turns in time to see Barney bounding towards him, two years old and almost fully-grown. Barney jumps up to place his two front paws on Nicholas' shoulders, his tail wagging enough to power a small lightbulb. "Hello boy." Nicholas laughs moving his face away from Barney's wet, lapping tongue. "Hello my friend."

"I thought it was you." Shouts Martina from the living room window. "Hurry and clean up, I've cooked you your favourite." Nicholas playfully wrestles with Barney for a time before suddenly sprinting towards the house. This is one of Barney's favourite games and he immediately gives chase.

Later that evening, Victor, Martina, Nicholas and Barney are sitting around the television. Victor looks around at his family and logs the scene for his deathbed, which may seem a little macabre, but Victor is absolutely certain that he wants his final moments to be good memories, nice thoughts to take with him.

The amoeba ended up inside the dog purely by accident, as its original intended host had been a cat. Barney had chased the cat away just as the amoeba was about to enter it and the amoeba, not wanting to miss out on another opportunity, quickly entered through Barney's paw. The amoeba settles in Barney's brain and begins to feed, glorying in the extra power and knowledge that this animal seems to have over all the others.

Halfway through the night and Barney's coat has turned completely white, while his breath is coming in random wheezes. The amoeba leaves its host, giving Barney twenty of life, and goes in search of another.

Victor always rises early even when he has no need to you can guarantee that Victor's eyes will flick open at five a.m. sharp. He gets out of bed quietly, aware that Martina's day doesn't start till seven and creeps downstairs. It's still quite dark, so Victor doesn't notice Barney's condition till he has turned the downstairs light on, an image flashes through Victor's mind of him stepping over Barney at the foot of the stairs when he first got up this morning. Victor swallows, and he steps closer to get a better look, what he sees makes him gasp in shock.

"Something's not right." He ponders aloud. How does a perfectly healthy dog age so dramatically overnight? Victor waits not a moment longer before picking up Barney's lifeless body and carries him out to the car.

"Where's Barney, mommy?" Nicholas asks while wolfing down his boiled egg and soldiers.

"Maybe your dad's taken him for a walk. He likes to sometimes." Martina tells him, a little worried herself by Victor's omission from the breakfast table. Even at the beginning of the season Victor is sure to never miss breakfast. "Hurry Nicholas, you'll be late." She prompts. Nicholas grabs a piece of toast to take with him and kisses his mom on the cheek before heading out for school.

Victor gets to the vets an hour before they open but isn't perturbed as he bangs aggressively on the front door of the adjoining house.

"Robert!" Victor shouts. "Vanessa!" There's a shuffling behind the door and Victor calms down when he realises the door is about to be opened. The door opens to reveal a tired looking Robert. Robert puts a porcine finger to his lips gesturing for Victor to keep it quiet.

"What is it?" Robert asks. "But please keep it quiet, Vanessa's in bed suffering." Victor nods aware of Vanessa's long suffering arthritis.

"It's Barney." Victor tells his friend of three years. Robert was the one who introduced him to the breeder who sold Barney, was with him when he paid for him.

"What is it?" Robert asks, his face wrinkling in concern. Robert tightens the strap on his dressing gown and heads out to Victor's car. Victor opens the door and Robert steps back aghast.

"Oh my God!" Robert exclaims, his hand moving to his mouth in emphasis of his shock. "That's Barney?"

"Of course it is!" Victor shouts a little aggressively, and instantly regrets it. "I'm sorry..." he begins.

"It's okay." Robert tells him sincerely, far more concerned with what has happened to Barney.

"I don't understand it." Victor says choking back tears. "He was perfectly healthy last night." Robert touches Barney's fur, and strokes at his head.

"I don't have an explanation for this Victor, I really don't." Robert tells him honestly. "I'm going to have to take him into the surgery, run some tests. Will that be okay?"

"Any chance you can bring him back to life?" Victor asks colloquially. Robert hangs his head, realising that Victor isn't really expecting an answer. "Of course." Victor finally answers. "Whatever it takes to find out what caused this."

After helping to carry Barney into the surgery, Victor drives around the countryside for a few hours trying to work out how to break it to Nicholas that Barney is dead. Eventually he drives home and is greeted to Martina hurrying towards him, a panicked look etched severely into her face. Victor stops the car and opens the door to his advancing wife.

"Victor!" Martina screams choking back her tears. "It's Nicholas. He's in the hospital. They're saying it's bad."

"Get in." Victor shouts without hesitation. "Explain on the way." While driving to the hospital Martina manages to tell her husband what has happened. Nicholas had been on break playing with his friends when one of them noticed that he had several grey hairs. The teachers thought nothing of it at first until they noticed that Nicholas was also rapidly wrinkling. The doctor was called in and he recommended that Nicholas be taken to hospital straight away.

The doctor tries to warn Victor of what he will see when he enters his son's room, but Victor is in no mood to listen to anyone until he has seen Nicholas for himself, and rushes in. Victor stops at the sight of his son, his head spinning with the doctor's words.

Your son has the physiology of a forty five year old man...he is ageing a year every twenty minutes...we don't think we can stop it...don't know what's causing it...we need to do tests...tests take time.

An hour later and Martina has gone to get some coffee, Victor sits alone at his son's bed holding his hand and crying gently.

"Why?" Victor asks aloud. "Why not me?"

This new animal has offered many new and wondrous things to the amoeba, and as it sits inside Nicholas' brain and listens to Victor's sorrowful words it develops an emotion. A rather cruel emotion for one such as the amoeba, the emotion called compassion.

"Why not me?" Victor asks it. "Why didn't you choose me?" The amoeba can take the feeling no longer and reforms on Nicholas' tongue, crawling out of his mouth and resting to sit on his chin. Vibrating its legs it builds a perfect picture of its surroundings and of Victor, the one who wants to be a host. Victor opens his eyes and stares right at the amoeba that has made no effort to disguise itself, and nods his head almost sagely. They stay there like that for a long couple of seconds, Victor and the amoeba, almost as though they are communicating with each other. The amoeba crawls towards Victor and he rests back his head, closing his eyes. The amoeba dissolves into Victor's forefinger and swims for the brain. Almost as soon as it enters Victor's body his cancer cells attack the amoeba swiftly, suffocating it, starving it of the oxygen it badly needs. The amoeba has no time to build a defence against them and falls quickly beneath the onslaught. It's memorable life over just as quickly as it began.