TOX

T O X 1

Copyright © Niall MacMahon 2007 The right of Niall MacMahon to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All characters in this publication, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the expressed prior permission of the author or those authorized by the author to do so. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the author’s consent or the consent of those authorized by the author to act on his behalf in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

ISBN: 978-1-4092-0713-9

Contact details: [email protected]

2

Dedications

To Dawn whom I missed so much on my daily commute into London that I wrote this book to distract me; And to Lila for her encouragement, comments and agreeing to be the first to read through Tox.

3

Contents:

Page

1.

Cut to the chase

5

2.

Pipe dream

20

3.

Rah Tuss

36

4.

Ravi’s story

48

5.

Nothing doing

53

6.

Mum’s morning

58

7.

Dr

64

8.

T-K-Q

77

9.

Ria

86

10. St Wilson’s

99

11. Square bashing

106

12. Crew Den

130

13. Realland

134

14. Lead

147

15. WYSIWII

155

16. SisR’s dilemma

184

17. Griddragons

189

18. SisR at 8

224

19. Omnilith

228

20. At last contact!

252

21. Perfect World

256

22. Grey end

278

23. Angel

292

24. A dude from school

296

4

Cut to the chase

1 Cut to the chase

‘Why fake it? Why take? Leave it to the Tox to break it. Instead of sufferin’ Little Dude From bad ass crew - let Tox intrude Just remember then Don’t say amen When the bad crew knocks….’ Tox was well proud of this. He’d laid it down himself – well mostly. He had a little help from T-K-Q - oh! And Mr. Patel the teacher who ran ‘STEWDEEYO!,’ the school recording facility, donated to the school by Paolo MacCool. Paolo was a past pupil who said that the quality of his rappin’ was down to the anger teachers in his day had planted in his soul when he was a school punk. Tox didn’t really understand what all that stuff meant but using STEWDEEYO! was dead cool. The music continued to stream directly into his ears. ‘Just check the box Bring ching - that talks! 5

TOX Don’t forget who rocks That’s right! Call Tox’ Tox had put his little toon together as a kind of promo for his business. Mr. Patel had shown him how to convert it to an mp3 file and Tox had downloaded it to his Cell CS 600 mopho. Access to STEWDEEYO! was on an after-normal-school basis and Tox was feeling proper dissed at having to miss out because of what was going down – an unanticipated consequence of his business. Should have expected the unexpected. Uh! He thought. The rhythm in his in-ear phones changed abruptly. The Dr Fear theme replaced his own toon. It meant that someone was phoning him and although Tox had been expecting it, it still made him jump. Tox checked the screen on his mopho before answering. It was T-K-Q. ‘Yo Tox!’ T-K-Q said excitedly. ‘Yo T-K-Q,’ Tox replied, feigning nonchalance. ‘Tox, they were at the back gate, four of ‘em and they was rough, Man – proper mingin mutants,’ T-K-Q continued excitedly. This confirmed Tox’s worst fears but he had been clever. Earlier he had left school by scrambling out of a first-floor classroom window onto the roof of the disused toilets. Then, with arms raised like some manic monkey, he had balanced a short distance along the perimeter wall, before climbing down on the outside via the asphalt roof of a garden shed. He had then scampered across two back gardens, before clambering over a pebble-dashed wall to the alleyway, between Rock Street and Hard Place. He had a couple of scrapes, one on his right arm and one on his forehead, from pushing through a narrow gap in the hedge between the cluttered gardens of the terraced houses. Huh! Nothin’ compared to what I’d have got from SisR’s Crew, Tox had thought as he had examined the damage and decided it was minimal. 6

Cut to the chase Tox had every intention of ensuring that SisR and his crew never got the opportunity to prove him right. Tox had identified three alternative ways of leaving school and had used the first of these. He had asked T-K-Q and Jaap to be his eyes and ears back at the school gates and, as he had expected, TK-Q had been the first to report in. Tox liked T-K-Q. Sure, he was excitable and sometimes did stupid things. He could be annoying but most of all he was dependable. He was also reverential to Tox, especially admiring his business sense - but then so did most of the kids in the school. This gave Tox a warm feeling of satisfaction. ‘Have you seen Jaap?’ Tox asked. ‘No.’ ‘He was supposed to keep watch out front and the dipstick shoulda reported in by now. He gets out before us an’ all.’ Tox did not think of Jaap as dependable. Respectful, yes, but he wouldn’t trust him to fall off a snowboard. He hadn’t known Jaap as long as he had TK-Q but it was long enough to consider him a “last resort.” Jaap had been the first client of Tox’s business and had been trying to hang with him ever since. Tox did not have many close friends. He chose the members of his small posse carefully. This is not to say he wasn’t popular. He was. Everybody knew who he was and gave him respect, most especially, on account of his business. Lots of kids wanted to hang with him but he had to maintain a “professional distance” between himself and his clients.

So, on this

occasion, he had used Jaap as a “best-of-the-rest” out of necessity. There was a beep in his phones and the screen on his mopho flashed. ‘It’s Jaap,’ he said, ‘I’m gonna take it. I’ll catch you later, Dude.’ ‘Respect,’ replied T-K-Q, before Tox switched to the other call. ‘What kept you?’ Tox said impatiently. ‘Yo Tox!’ was the relaxed reply. Chef! It’s not Jaap. 7

TOX The voice on the other end was tinged with the first traces of the gravel of puberty and was full of sarcastic, melodramatic menace. Though Tox had never heard the voice before, he knew instinctively that it must be SisR. ‘Tox! That’s no way to talk to your drone, now is it?’ Chef! They got Jaap’s mopho. This meant they had Tox’s number. I’ll have to change my SIM again! Tox said nothing. ‘What’s the matter Little Business Man? Somethin’ troubling you?’ ‘You think I’m bothered ‘cause you’ve mugged Jaap’s mopho?’ Tox improvised, feigning bravery, despite the sinking feeling in his stomach. ‘No…’ SisR paused for dramatic effect. ‘But you look across the road and you’ll see somethin’ about which you should be bothered.’ Tox did as directed. To his horror, bunched by the traffic lights, on the far side of the street, were nine boys, all beaming broad, false smiles at him and waving slowly in a loose unison. Chef! The whole St Wilson’s Crew! ‘Yo! Little Business Man,’ SisR’s voice cackled in his ear. Tox felt a sudden attack of nausea. He had been close enough to see SisR’s lips moving. Tox was already running as he pulled the phones out of his ears and awkwardly pocketed his mopho. He quickly reached the KFC on the corner of Short Street. A glance behind before he swerved, delivered more bad news. The traffic lights had favoured SisR and his squad. The nearest of them was only twenty-five yards behind him. Tox would need to think fast and clever. Behind the row of shops there was a packing plant. The twisted wiremesh gates were open and Tox sped through. As he ran across the yard, he rapidly assessed the escape potential of his new surroundings. Strewn about 8

Cut to the chase here and there, were old rough wooden pallets, large water-sodden cardboard boxes and lumps of polystyrene icebergs of various sizes. Nothing useful. Tox darted round the back of a lorry, startling two men in dusty blue overalls, who froze, mouths gaping, in mid-lift of a large card-board box. As Tox veered right, down the gap between the corrugated plastic walls of two of the buildings, the men looked at each other. But before they could yell after him, they were startled again by the sudden appearance of nine more kids, breathing heavily in hot pursuit. A short distance in, Tox reached a stack of long wooden planks, which clattered noisily as he climbed it like a loose staircase. Arms outstretched, he balanced along the top, until he came to the end, about a foot and a half away from a dirty old yellow-brick wall. The height of the wood stack made the top of the wall about waist high for Tox from there. With little hesitation, he threw himself forward and caught the wall under his ribs. As he scrambled up to his feet on top of the wall, he could hear the deafening rattle of his pursuers, on the wood stack behind. On the other side of the wall, there was a large car-park for Tesco’s supermarket. If I can get down, I can try and lose them there. But the drop was more than three times his height. About twenty-five feet away to his left Tox spotted a white van near the wall. Tox tight-roped along the wall towards it, as fast as he dared. On arrival the van seemed further from the wall than he had hoped, but being caught was not an option. After some hesitation to calculate the task, he held his breath, shut his eyes and jumped across. After a moment of timelessness he crash-landed, bum first, on the dirty roof of the van with a din like a kettle drum. The three foot drop from the height of the wall meant he skidded forward on landing, eyes wide in terror that he would slide off and fall a further ten feet. After an agonising moment, he came to a halt.

9

TOX Recovering quickly he slid the rest of the way forward, leaving a bottomwide trail in the dark grey dirt. He climbed down onto the narrow bonnet, and then dropped down further onto the back of the Vectra in front. By the time all his hunters were on the wall, Tox was already fleeing between the lines of parked cars, twisting frequently to avoid collision with wing-mirrors. He took a sharp left and caught his right knee on a tow-bar for a trailer protruding from a Hummer. It hurt really badly. He hopped for several strides, clutching at it, his face contorted with pain but he dared not stop. He reached the wire-mesh fence that formed the boundary on the far side of the car-park. There must be a hole. Kids are always making short cuts. He looked along the fence but could not see any gaps because of the acuteness of the angle. On the other side of the fence there was a long mound formed from the clearance of building rubble. Tox looked along it. About thirty yards to his left, a muddy path had been carved into it, leading up from the fence. Maybe…. Tox ran towards it. There must be a gap. There was. At the base of a metal post, the wire had been caught back on itself, leaving a triangular gap. Tox bent down to crawl through. In his hurry, he snagged the collar of his school jacket, on a hook of twisted wire. With all the strength he could muster, he yanked at it, until it ripped and he fell forward. Chef! I’ll get grief from Mum for that. Still could be worse - coulda been my new hoody. Tox used his hands to claw his way up the muddy trail. He reached the top and surveyed a familiar stretch of wasteland, left by the demolition of several redundant industrial buildings. Which way? 10

Cut to the chase The metallic sizzling behind him, told him the St Wilson’s pack had reached the fence. Without further deliberation Tox started down the sticky slope and across one of the undulating tracks that he and hundreds of other potential BMX champions, had etched into the muddy mounds. The moist mud caked in the grooves of his trainers and made progress uneven. As he ploughed his way, a glance behind confirmed that the closest of his hunters were gaining on him. Panting desperately, he reached the ruin of the old distillery. This was familiar. He had been here before several times but not recently. There was a basement area, dark and scary. But this is desperate. There was an old concrete stairwell. Tox took several steps at a time, as he descended into the gloom. As he reached the bottom, he frantically strained his eyes for inspiration. I remember… Panic was strangling his ability to think. Come on, come on … there was a pipe… a big enough pipe… where?... come on! … Think! He felt his way along the uneven wall, stumbling on the brick rubble strewn at its base. Suddenly he felt a gap that his frantic fingers identified as having a cold abrasive circular edge. This is it! The pipe! It was about two-and-a-half feet in diameter. He bent down and crawled in about five feet. The cold structure of the pipe amplified his panting breath with short buzzing echoes. ‘I think he went down there.’ The anonymous voice from the darkness was punctuated by heavy gasps for breath. ‘Then we’ve cornered the little rat,’ came the breathless response. 11

TOX Seconds later Tox heard the scuffle of brick rubble, as his pursuers began to search for him in the darkness. Holding his breath he saw the light from a cigarette lighter move across the arch of the pipe entrance, like a lone shaky star. It was some distance from the pipe and did not reflect off any surfaces. Then he saw another flickering flame, even further away in the otherwise total darkness. Good news! They don’t have a torch. Tox swapped breaths. His heart sounded like a bass-drum. ‘Oi Little Business Man, we’re gonna kill ya,’ SisR’s now familiar harsh tones, taunted from the darkness. ‘We’ll never find him in here,’ an unfamiliar voice declared, its tone betraying apprehension and distaste for continuing the task of fumbling through the gloom. ‘Shut it!’ commanded several voices, one of which was SisR’s. ‘Oh yes we will,’ SisR said mischievously after a few seconds, from much too close by. Moments later, to Tox’s complete horror, he could hear the breakbeat of the Dr Fear theme explode from his pocket. Chef! His heart sank. His mopho still had a signal and SisR was using Jaap’s mopho to call him. ‘He’s over here,’ SisR declared triumphantly. Tox hurriedly scurried further into the tunnel of the pipe. ‘There’s some sort of pipe,’ SisR yelled. Tox shuffled anxiously deeper and deeper into the darkness of the pipe. He reached a t-junction and with nothing to inspire him in the blackness, he decided to take the branch to his right. Another twenty seconds of panicked scurrying on hands and knees and he had reached another t-junction. This 12

Cut to the chase time the choice was up or down. Tox looked up. Way above was a circle of silver light. Daylight! Another way out! I gotta go up. Tox moved to go but then hesitated and grimaced. It looks high. Tox looked down. Below was just unrelenting darkness, apart from the pink circular light-ghost dancing before his eyes. Tox looked back up towards the distant grey pool of light. He felt exhausted. It is a long way - at least as high as a house. But I gotta do it – not much choice. Very little of the daylight filtered down to where Tox was, so he reached out blindly and gingerly felt around. Great! Nothing to grip on, up or down. He went to make a start anyway but stopped again. What if some of ‘em double back and cover up there? I’ll be trapped between them and them behind me, like a burp in a baby. He heard shuffling noises and muffled voices echoing through the pipe behind him. Down. The gaping darkness was his only hope. He edged himself over the circular gap. Come on, you’ve done this before. Tox had seen it done in the Bond prequel ‘Jammie Master Spy’ and had tried it out himself. Yeah, but that was in the play area of the park and without the St Wilson’s Crew on my case - another part of his mind responded less helpfully.

13

TOX He pushed his feet as flat as they would go against the curved wall of the pipe. Then, after a little fearful hesitation, he started to lower himself down, very slowly, pushing out his legs, so that as much of his upper back as possible was pressed against the cold curved wall behind him. His breaths were short and quick now, with the effort of his concentration. This was harder on his muscles than he remembered. When he was about five feet down he stopped and looked up. The circle of sky was now a sharp pointed oval shape, like an eye in the blackness. The pipe he was descending into was not straight. He lowered his head again. Can’t even see my own self – but that’s good! If I can’t see me then SisR’s Crew won’t be able to neither. Tox held his breath and listened. He could hear voices but they were muffled and distant and the reverberation in the pipes prevented him from knowing whether they were coming his way or not. They’re not getting louder so that’s good. Maybe they went left at that first tjunction. He continued to hold his breath and listen. No one seemed to be following him along the right-hand branch of the pipes. Things is looking better - but better to be sure. Apart from pushing his head back against the wall and looking straight up, which hurt his neck, he could see nothing. With his terror receding he began to notice his surroundings. The air smelt cold, damp and stale. Ugh! Mingin stink man. He could feel the coldness of the wall through his clothes and against his hands, which were straining to maintain his position. Tox was still in his school uniform and could feel the discomfort of the jacket stretched tight under his armpits. Tox resented having to wear a uniform. His school insisted on the full deal of blue jacket with a red shield on the breast pocket, black trousers, a yellow shirt and a blue and yellow tie. 14

Cut to the chase The only concession to modernity allowed was the wearing of trainers and then only if they were completely black. Other schools can wear whatever cool gear they like – like St Wilson’s. It ain’t fair. They got an unfair advantage – ‘specially in situations like this, Man – not as restricted – No one thinks of that, do they? Mum had insisted that the teaching was the important thing. Which shows she knows nothing about the pressures on kids these days. As a mark of protest Tox always pulled his shirt out from his trousers as soon as he left school but, as he hung there suspended in the darkness, he realised that in the excitement of having to leave by an improvised route he had forgotten and left it tucked in. The Dr Fear theme played again in his pocket. It‘s probably SisR again, trying to get my location. Tox let it ring out, putting his hand over his pocket to try and muffle the noise. I gotta sort that, Tox decided, even though it risked him falling into the gloom below. So, pressing his feet and back harder against the sides of the pipe to bolster his support, he reached into his pocket and took out his mopho. His balance was good, which gave him the confidence to attempt opening it. The screen burst into life with a cheerful glow that immediately made Tox feel like distracting himself by opening a game or something. He held his breath and listened for signs of his pursuers. There were none. His mopho screen showed two missed calls, both from Jaap’s mopho. Tox started the process of switching over to his second SIM. A couple of months before, when the volume of calls started to escalate due to his increasing business activities, Tox had taken the initiative of fitting his new mopho with a LOVE R 2 dual SIM holder. Mum had been asking too many questions: who was this call to? – Who’s this? – Why so many calls all of a sudden? So Tox got a pay-as-you-go SIM and a dual SIM holder and fitted them to his new CELL CS 600, so that he could use the new SIM for his 15

TOX business. Then, when he needed to call Mum, he’d switch back to the old SIM, which he had transferred from the mopho Mum had given him. Jaap’s phone ain’t got my private number. And anyway, I’ll have to call Mum soon as I get out of here. Mum’ll be worried if I don’t phone soon. As he keyed the instruction into his mopho to switch SIMs he felt a pang of guilt at how he had had to deceive Mum – occasionally making a point of flashing his old SIM-less mopho when Mum would see it, so that she would think he was still using it. He also had to make sure that his new mopho was always on silent when in Mum’s company, so as not to have to explain why he didn’t want to take it out and answer it in front of her. Still there are some things you gotta do – some things Mum just don’t understand. Mum and teachers and all, don’t dig the pressures on kids, Man. They’re either too dumb or ancient to remember, or maybe they went to school on a different planet. I mean Mum’s all right – mostly - but when she comes out with “school’s the best days of your life” and all that rubbish – Man, she don’t know nothin. Tox’s attention returned to his predicament. He carefully replaced his mopho back in its assigned pocket. Now SisR can talk to my voice-mail forever Man – like I’ll be bothered. With mission accomplished, the silence enveloped Tox again like a damp duvet. I feel like “Pussy-in-the-well.” Tox remembered the story his cousin Dermo had related to him at their aunt Asumpta’s Wedding reception, four months before. Dermo was only five months older than Tox but was considerably bigger and stronger looking. He lived less than a mile away from Tox but attended St Blair’s school. Because of this Tox did not know his cousin very well. So he was very surprised when Dermo sidled up to him and began telling him the story of what he called “Ding-Dong-Dell,” which became the inspiration for Tox’s business. 16

Cut to the chase In those days, Tox spent most of his out-of-class time avoiding the attention of several posses of bullies in his school, St Thatcher’s. At the wedding reception, it quickly dawned on Tox, that his cousin Dermo obviously didn’t know this and assumed that Tox was a crew bro in St Thatcher’s like he was in St Blair’s. Dermo related the story of how he and his crew had forced a kid that they called Cat Boy, into the wooden bucket at The Abbey’s well and then lowered him screaming down into the darkness, while they laughed, jeered and chanted the nursery rhyme “Ding-Dong-Dell, Pussy-in-the-well.” And all this was because the kid was called John Greene. Tox had feigned laughter and later felt guilty that he had given the impression to his cousin that he would have joined in, had he been there. Later on reflection, Tox consoled himself with the thought that the story had been inspiration behind his business, so some good had come of it. The next day Tox arranged to meet his cousin after school and asked him if he was interested in doing a deal for cash. Dermo was suspicious at first but his greed got the better of him and he agreed to put Tox’s proposal to his crew boss Zed. The next day at St Thatcher’s school gate Dermo, Zed and seven of the St Blair’s Crew confronted Jason and Joel bosses of the Double J Crew, Tox’s most persistent tormentors. No blood was spilt but after that, it was Jason and Joel who gave Tox a wide berth. Jaap, having witnessed the events at the school gate and observed the changes in Tox’s levels of respect ever since, had begged and harassed Tox to sort the same for him. As he held himself suspended in the darkness Tox reflected on how it had all escalated from that point. He remembered how, as more and more requests for help poured in from desperate, harassed dudes and dudesses, he had recognised the business potential. How when the St Blair’s Crew tried to up their cut for their services, he had recruited the heavies from St Churchill’s. He thought of how he got respect from everyone. How everyone knew who he was. How as the success of his little operation spread he had expanded the scope of his venture to cater for requests from clients in other 17

TOX schools. How a couple of times the local crews had tried to set up their own copycat businesses – trying to cut Tox out of the picture - but their potential customers hadn’t trusted them, often having been their victims before hand and instead had opted for the tried and trustable Tox. It had all been perfection until SisR and his crew had got on Tox’s case. St Wilson’s was a school about two miles away. Its catchment area included The Rank, a large 70’s housing estate, that looks as grey as its reputation is dark. Someone had set the St Wilson’s heavies on Tox. He did not know exactly why. Perhaps someone wanted to take over his business, or some heavy wanted revenge for his interference in what they saw as their business. Anyway, he did not get the impression that SisR and his drones were in a mood to open negotiations. The Dr Fear ring-tone sounded again and gave him a start. It’s probably Mum. It’s getting late. I can’t answer it - not with the echo of the pipe. Mum’ll want to know where I am. Tox didn’t feel in a position to lie effectively, what with needing to concentrate on keeping himself from falling and all. I should be home by now. Mum’ll be missing me. Suddenly Tox was missing Mum. The recent intoxicating mix of independence, success and popularity, which had led to his growing arrogance towards her, had evaporated, leaving a frightened ten-year-old boy, stuck in a dark, smelly old pipe, yearning to be held lovingly by Mum. He felt sorry for himself but resisted crying. He had other things to worry about. He could not feel his legs properly. He felt stiff all over, as he lifted his head back to view the oval of sky above him. It was now a dark navy colour, contrasting less with the smooth edges made by the shape of the pipe. It’s getting dark outside. They should be gone by now. Init? Tox again held his breath and listened. Although there were muffled sounds in the echoes, it didn’t sound like his pursuers were still searching for him. 18

Cut to the chase Maybe they think I know another way out, he thought positively - and then more negatively: They might be hiding outside, waiting for me to give up. ‘Argh!’ Tox tried to shift his weight and instantly felt the true extent of his numbness and stiffness. ‘Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!’ Gotta get out, can’t hold this much longer. He tried to move again but his legs would not obey him. His knees had seized up and he could not feel them. He tried again but felt himself begin to slip. ‘Uh!’ He felt sudden panic but somehow managed to exert enough pressure through his numb limbs to secure his position. But he knew this was unsustainable. Now he did start to cry. His sobbing made the situation worse but he couldn’t stop. His legs were shaking uncontrollably. With a jolt he slipped further. All his limbs frantically sought something to catch, anything that might offer resistance. ‘No!’ There was the sound of the back of his jacket scraping against the concrete of the pipe as he lost the ability to apply the necessary pressure through his back. Tox heard himself yell involuntarily. ‘Argh!’ He finally lost all control, falling clumsily, bouncing off one side of the pipe and then another until he lost consciousness.

19

TOX

2 Pipe dream ‘Get in there!’ SisR was having none of it. Dodi, a middle ranking member of the St Wilson’s Crew hierarchy had been clumsily improvising an excuse as to why he shouldn’t be the one to go alone into the darkness of the pipe, to flush out Tox. ‘Now!’ SisR’s roar echoed in the flickering shadows from three cigarette lighters. Dodi obeyed with the reluctance on his face hidden by the near total darkness. He was less than happy, with thoughts of what might happen if he caught up with Tox, but terrified of SisR and his temper. Cautiously Dodi crawled his way to the first t-junction. There, bathed in the flicker of the cigarette lighter he had been given, he reported back over his shoulder. ‘There are two ways.’ ‘Well what can you see, Dumbo?’ ‘Nothin’! Just dark – both ways.’ ‘Chef!’ ‘I’ll come back.’ Dodi suggested hopefully. ‘Wait!’ SisR tried phoning Tox again. ‘Can you hear his mopho?’ 20

Pipe dream Dodi held his breath and turned his ears one way then the other. ‘No – nothin’. I’m comin' back.’ ‘No – right - go right.’ Making a face invisible in the darkness Dodi turned to obey. ‘No! I changed my mind - go left,’ SisR bellowed. So, with only the company of his own short breaths, the lone explorer turned and crawled off into the left-hand tube. A couple of minutes later Dodi heard SisR shout something mushed meaningless by the echoes in the pipes so he shouted something back over his shoulder that was equally indecipherable to those gathered around at the mouth of the pipe. Two minutes later, following several exchanges which neither party could understand, Dodi crawled back to announce that he had come to a point in the pipe network, where he could see daylight at the end of a turning to the right. SisR swore. ‘The little rat‘s escaped –Quick! Back outside.’ The entire Crew scrambled chaotically back the way they had come hurrying as fast as the rattling rubble would allow them. Climbing the steps, they came blinking into the fading daylight. From the vantage point of the low ruin of a wall, eighteen eyes scanned the area of small muddy hills. There were a few younger kids in the distance practising bike tricks between two of the biggest slopes but no sign of the Crew’s prey. Next they stood in obedient silence, listening out, as SisR tried using Jaap’s phone again - nothing. The Crew set about searching the area around the ruin, in which they had lost Tox. Then they fanned out and searched the remains of several other buildings, scattered over the vast area - again nothing. ‘Huh!’ SisR snorted in frustration. ‘We’ll get the little business rat tomorrow. We’ll do both gates again at St Thaches - in the morning. He won’t be expectin’ that and if we miss him, we’ll just have a little talk with yapping Jaap again.’ 21

TOX ‘Yeah,’ the others sneered, as they turned for the long trek home. Before leaving the area, they agreed on a slight detour to go over and extract respect from the kids that were practising BMX gymnastics, on the hillocks, over towards a corner of the wasteland. But the Crew’s menacing intent was detected before they got anyway near enough and their new quarry peddled away from them over the muddy hills in an undulating line like some giant multicoloured caterpillar. All-in-all it had been a poor day’s hunting. ‘Huh! Rubbish huntin’,’ Pinki muttered. ‘Shut it!’ ‘Yeah! Shut it!’ several tired voices joined in counterpoint.

Tox came to. ‘Ding-Dong-Dell, Pussy-in-the-Well’ sung by cartoon chipmonks, was playing in his brain. His head hurt. His head hurt a lot. He could see nothing. There was no light of any kind. He was not sure if his eyes were opened or closed. He tried what felt like blinking but it made no difference. Where am I? Now what? He was afraid to move. Have I got anywhere to move to? Where am I? Wherever it was, it felt hard, tubular in shape, damp to the touch and it smelt real bad. In fact it stank. Ugh! Mingin! I gotta get outa here and quick! But how? Tox listened for clues. He could hear a trickling noise. There’s water close by but where? How much? I gotta get out - but first I need to see. Then he remembered his mopho. Stiffly, he felt down to where he imagined his pocket to be. Though his original estimate was out, he found the opening 22

Pipe dream and stretching his upper body away from it, he slid his mopho from its pocket. It was warm from the heat of his body and its familiar shape in his hand immediately gave him comfort. He couldn’t feel his other arm. Maybe it’s supporting me. He carefully used his one available hand to open it. His heart lifted, as a diffuse blue light pushed back the sheet of blackness and he viewed a familiar screen. It seemed much brighter than it usually did and added to his feeling of comfort. He checked for a signal. As he suspected would be the case, there was none. ‘Chef!’ But at least now I‘ve got light. Tox turned the screen away from himself and moved it about like some dim flashlight. He had to bring the mopho’s screen right up close to anything before any of its light reflected. The curved surface he was in had an edge. I must be at the bottom of the pipe. But how far have I fallen? The pipe wall glistened with moisture but not enough to account for the constant trickling sound he could hear. He reached the mopho screen out as far as he could in front of him. He could see nothing. The foul smell agitated his nostrils again. I must be in some kinda sewer. Urgh! How do I get out of here? He briefly considered checking over his own body for damage but was afraid of what he might find, so he didn’t. He looked back at his mopho screen. It showed the time as 20:14. I must have been knocked out. Wow! Mum’ll be really worried by now. He had promised to phone Mum if he was ever going to be late. This stopped Mum from phoning him when he had the business SIM on in his mopho during the day. He had told Mum he didn’t want her embarrassing him by calling him when he was with his friends, as they’d think she was checking 23

TOX up on him, like on a kid. Mum had eventually agreed but only after he promised he would phone her. He was instantly filled with an overwhelming urge to be held by Mum. He thought about how he had not felt like this much of late. Recently, something that he didn’t understand kept making him pull away, whenever Mum tried to cuddle him, the way she’d always done. Right then he would have given anything to feel the cozy, comforting embrace of her arms and softness, and to fill his nostrils with her unique warm smell. Tox focused on the screen again: definitely no signal. No one’ll ever find me here. I’ll have to get out myself. He looked back overhead to where he imagined the pipe went up – nothing – just blackness – no hint even of the oval of fading daylight he remembered seeing before he had fallen. It’ll be too hard to climb, anyway. Tox looked back to the darkness in front of him – still nothing to see. But where does the water come from? Go to? How deep is it? How putrid? He heard no answers. He stared at his mopho. Tox loved his mopho and was very proud of it - a CELL CS 600, in navy-blue, with silver trim. He had bought it himself, using the profits from his business. He had down-loaded ring tones and lots of stuff to play on its MP3 player and games facility. Maybe a game would help now - Dr Fear v the Mutant Newts, maybe. That’d take my mind off things. No! I’ve got to find a way out. He folded the mopho closed. Better save the battery. The darkness swamped in again, leaving only a ghostly pink image of the screen gradually rising. Suddenly, he felt the full weight of his exhaustion and found his thoughts of planning how to get out, kept deviating into joined up nonsense, as he fell helplessly asleep. 24

Pipe dream

Tox was cold. He was hungry. He was waking up. He was lonely. He was frightened. He was crying. Through his tear-filled eyes he gradually became aware of a dim light. Tox tried to wipe the moisture from his eyes and control his self-pitying sobbing. Where before there had been only total darkness, now there was definitely a pale pinkish diffused brightness. Now there was sufficient light to see that the pipe that he was in, did end about six inches above, what looked to be, a fast flowing sewer. As his vision cleared further, Tox saw that the flowing water spanned about eight feet across. It was bordered on the far side by, what looked like, a regular narrow pathway, constructed of neat brickwork. The path was bordered, on its far side, by a wall, constructed of the same brickwork and which rose straight up to a height of about five feet, before arching smoothly over the waterway towards where he was. Tox could not make out from where the pale light was emanating. It cast no shadows and seemed to come from no particular direction. It just seemed to be there. Awesome! They’ve come to get me! He thought but immediately had to admit to himself that this was unlikely. How could they find me? Then he welcomed another positive thought: It could be a maintenance man. Tox held his breath and listened hard but heard nothing except the trickling of the water. ‘Hello!’ he called then paused. Nothing. ‘Hello! Is there anybody there?’ Nothing. The light has gotta be coming from somewhere. Careful not to risk sliding into the water he inched forward to try and improve the area he could see from the mouth of the pipe. It took a much bigger effort

25

TOX than he had expected and did not prove worth it, as it didn’t provide a view of anything new. The exertion had exhausted him. How am I gonna get out if I get this tired just doing that? Despair descended on him again, bringing tears back to his eyes and stuttering his breath up to a steady sobbing.

He gradually realised that the burbling sound that he was hearing was in fact water dripping from his limbs back into the steaming water from which he had just stood up. There were drops of condensation trickling slowly down the familiar white and blue bathroom tiles, with their alternating fish, gull and seashell pattern. Suddenly, this was a source of overwhelming comfort. Mum’s smiling face was visible above a huge soft blue and green towel, which she was holding out invitingly towards him. Although he had protested to her often recently, that he did not want her doing this anymore - as he was quite capable of washing and drying himself, without her help - right at that minute, it was just cool. He took more joy from Mum’s smiling face in that moment than he had in the entire previous year. He drank in the wonderful scene, letting the relief sweep over him like a huge slow tsunami. He heard scratching and shuffling noises from outside the bathroom door. It must be Jeff. Aw Jeff Boy, fantastic! Jeff was fantastic. He was a sometimes clumsy but always adoring, golden retriever. Tox had known Jeff as long as he could remember. He had been the family pet from before Tox was born. Then Tox remembered that Jeff had passed away two years before. Then what is making that noise? He heard it again. Definitely there.

26

Pipe dream Mum put the big towel around him but it was cold. He heard the noises again. There was something not right. He tried to hold on to the images but they were fading. No! It’s a dream! The cozy scene evaporated rapidly. Chef! The returning despair pressed more tears from his eyes. Then Tox heard the shuffling sound again. It was close by. He opened his eyes slowly. The same low-level diffused light bathed the simple scene he had seen before. Suddenly his heart jumped. There was a dark figure on the narrow pathway on the other side of the water. It looked to be about the same height as Tox but seemed to be oddly shaped like a pear or a sitting rodent. ‘Uh! Who are you?’ Tox said with a start. The figure immediately scurried off out of sight to Tox’s left. ‘No! Wait! Wait! Please wait! Wait I need help! Please!’ Tox listened hard for a response, as the muffled echoes of his voice died away. There was nothing to hear. ‘Please! Help me! I need help! Please!’ Nothing. Tox shut his eyes in frustration. After a few minutes he reached into his pocket and took out his mopho again. This time it was definitely just for comfort. When he opened it, the familiar image of his favourite cartoon character, Dr Fear synthesised on to the screen. Tox decided to look through his picture gallery. He had a photograph of himself with T-K-Q, which he had taken himself, at arm's length. T-K-Q had his right arm around Tox’s shoulders and was making a sign with the two middle fingers of his left hand folded into his palm. They were both laughing happily. Tox opened the video footage of the two of them singing the Dr Fear theme and doing their interpretation of the synchronised steps. Next he opened a photo of the full 27

TOX Celtic team, then the one of Gordon Ripping on his own and followed that with one of the Celtic logo. He had two photos downloaded of Samantha Say, released to promote her last release. But most upsettingly right then, he realised he had none of Mum. Tox felt guilty and ashamed. He looked the time. It was 04:11. Gone four in the night. Mum’ll kill me!

But right then Mum - Siobhan O’Shea - only wanted to see her son alive again. Earlier she had come in from work as usual and set straight away to preparing dinner while singing along, at the top of her voice, to the tunes on drive-time radio. When the traffic report had come and gone it dawned on her that her son Terence was later than usual. She began to worry. First she broke away from opening a packet of chicken nuggets to check that her phone was switched on. Perhaps he’s texted. She checked. He hadn’t. Later she checked that her mobile phone was working properly by phoning it from the landline. It was. How many times have I told him he must always phone me if he is going to be delayed for any reason? Honestly! He gets worse every day! She was annoyed with herself at the diminishing control she felt she had over him. She was reluctant to phone him as he had complained she was always checking up on him. Siobhan went to the window in the front room and standing on one side of the scarlet curtain, she lifted the net curtain to maximise her view of the direction from which Terence would normally arrive. Finally, her mix of anxiety and anger overcame her reluctance to go back on her agreement with her son and she tried phoning his number. It went straight to Terence’s recorded voice-mail: ‘Yo! Can’t talk right now. Leave yo tag and no and I’ll fo.’ 28

Pipe dream Her son’s affected laid back tone annoyed her even more. ‘Beep’ ‘Terence where are you? Phone me now! Do you hear?’ Siobhan waited with the phone in her hand for a couple of minutes hoping that Terence would pick up her message and obey. When he didn’t she went out to the front door a couple of times. What is he up to? She tried phoning him again – again straight to message. She went back to preparing the dinner, while trying to think what to do. She tried the window again and then the door, then phoning again. Now she was really starting to worry. What should I do? Where could he be? She phoned the school but got the anonymous out-of-hours answer-phone message. Finally she decided to phone the police. It alarmed her even more that the police were immediately concerned. The officer she spoke to contrasted Siobhan’s increasing sense of urgency, by slowly and carefully asking her what seemed like an unending series of questions, from what she assumed must be a tick-list. ‘Has Terence come home late often?’ ‘Has he ever failed to come home before?’ ‘What’s your full address, please?’ ‘The name and address of the school?’ ‘Which route does Terence normally take home?’ ‘Is there any where else he might go?’ ‘Have you tried phoning his friends?’ ‘Who does he normally play with?’ ‘What about other relatives?’ 29

TOX ‘Could he be with his father?’ Siobhan controlled the shakiness in her voice quite well, while she was able to give monosyllabic ‘‘yes’ and ‘no’ replies but found it much more difficult when having to explain that Terence’s father Rick had moved to Canada with his new wife two years ago. Finally, having taken Tox’s mobile number and a brief description of him, the officer said an officer would call round to see her shortly. Twenty-six minutes later two uniformed policewomen arrived on her doorstep. On any other occasion, Siobhan would probably have considered it patronising that two women had been sent to do the “soft” job of dealing with a potentially hysterical woman but right then she was just glad to see them. They attempted to show Siobhan their identity cards but Siobhan just waved them through and sat them on the red-leather sofa in the front room. One of the officers looked to be about thirty years of age, was slightly plump, especially around her hips and had black wavy hair cut to the top of her neck. Her face makeup did not fully disguise her uneven complexion. Her colleague looked to be several years younger, had little or no makeup, shoulder length straight blond hair carefully split evenly to both sides of her narrow face. She was very slim, with no figure to speak of, to show through the straight lines of her slightly over-sized, heavy-looking dark-blue uniform. To Siobhan’s surprise the younger PC took the lead and politely and calmly introduced herself. ‘I’m PC Joan Springer.’ ‘PC Iwona Kryzwoska,’ the older PC introduced herself before PC Springer resumed. ‘So, Mrs. O’Shea I’ll need to....’ ‘Siobhan,’ Siobhan interrupted, to indicate that she did not want to be addressed so formally by her surname. The two PCs looked at each other in puzzlement. ‘Shove on?’ PC Kryzwoska eventually queried. 30

Pipe dream ‘Siobhan, My name is Siobhan, it’s Irish for Joan.’ ‘Oh! Right!’ Siobhan offered them coffee from the pot she had already made, while she had been waiting for them to arrive, in an attempt to distract herself from the worst possible thoughts. After a polite refusal PC Springer proceeded to ask more questions. Annoyingly some of these were the same as those Siobhan had answered over the phone. ‘Have you phoned round his friends?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘What did they say?’ ‘That Terence no longer played with them. Oh! And they mentioned someone called Teacake.’ ‘Do you know who this is?’ ‘No.’ ‘Did you get a family name for this person?’ ‘No.’ ‘Male or female?’ ‘Male.’ ‘Age?’ ‘Same class in school.’ ‘Do you know if Terence was being bullied by anyone?’ ‘No, not that I know of.’ ‘Was he having problems at school?’ ‘No, not that he said.’ Siobhan suddenly felt guilty for allowing her son to be so superficial when answering her questions about school, over the previous few months. 31

TOX But Terence has been growing more difficult about everything of late. “Oh it‘s normal for a boy his age,” was what friends had told her. Right then Siobhan regretted accepting all this so easily. She felt neglectful, weak-willed and a poor mother to her son. The questions continued. ‘Was there any reason why he might not want to come home?’ ‘No!’ Siobhan replied with indignant annoyance. ‘Do you have a recent photograph of your son?’ ‘Eh! Yes.’ ‘Could you get it now please?’ Siobhan obeyed. She found a photograph of herself and Terence together, which was taken at her sister’s wedding reception. She returned with tears in her eyes. PC Springer looked at the photograph and passed it to PC Kryzwoska before resuming. ‘Might he have gone to a relative?’ ‘Not really.’ ‘Do any relatives live close by?’ ‘Well yes but…’ ‘Can you phone them now please?’ Siobhan phoned her sister-in-law, Dervla, but as she had anticipated, she had not seen Terence since Asumpta’s wedding four months ago. While she was still on the phone, PC Springer quietly urged Siobhan to ensure that Dervla asked the others in her household directly. ‘Huh! Of course not,’ was the gruff reply Siobhan overheard from her nephew Dermott in the background. After the call ended PC Springer continued. ‘Do you keep copies of his mobile phone bills?’

32

Pipe dream ‘Yes, yes, of course,’ Siobhan answered as she tried to think through her increasing panic. ‘Have you noticed any knew contacts?’ ‘No – eh! I mean yeah! There were a few - a few months back – but then they stopped.’ At PC Springer’s request Siobhan fetched the three most recent statements for her son’s mobile and shakily examined the call lists. She pointed out the sudden spate of numbers on the earliest of the statements as she sniffled back tears. ‘Whose number is this?’ PC Springer asked pointing at the latest statement. Siobhan widened her eyes and blinked to clear the tears from her vision. ‘Eh! Oh! That’s mine - my mobile – Why?’ ‘Just that on these last two bills it’s the only number recorded.’ Siobhan sobbed. ‘Oh my God! I should have noticed. What does this mean?’ ‘I’m not sure. Eh! look, I’ll take these back to the station, as they might provide us with something to go on.’ ‘What about the Internet?’ Siobhan shook her head again. PC Kryzwoska interjected to explain: ‘We might need to send a computer expert round at some point, if that’s ok?’ Siobhan nodded her consent. ‘Try and think hard, is there anywhere Terence particularly likes to go? Anywhere he likes to retreat to?’ ‘Not that I know of.’ Siobhan again felt ashamed at her lack of knowledge of her only son. ‘Does he play arcade games?’ 33

TOX ‘No! - I mean I don’t think so – he has a J-Sphere – you know - the games console.’ The chimes of the doorbell rang. Siobhan leapt to her feet. ‘That‘ll be him. Oh! Thank God.’ She yanked the door open ready to scold, but her heart sank as she saw it was Carole. Carole Thomas was Siobhan’s best friend in the area. Siobhan had tried to phone Carole for comfort, while waiting for the police to arrive. Carole’s husband Dean had said she wasn’t back from work but he would give her the message that Terence was missing. Carole was still in her nurse’s uniform when she arrived. ‘I came over as soon as I heard. How are you, Love? Has he turned up yet?’ Siobhan shook her head, unable to speak, as she buried her tear-wet face in the shoulder Carole offered. ‘Don’t worry my Love, he will do soon. You’ll see.’ Carole said gently patting the sobbing Siobhan on her back. ‘Have the police been yet?’ Siobhan moved her head back and wiping her tears nodded. ‘Yes they’re still here.’ ‘Oh! Right!’ Carole replied and straightened herself, as if preparing for a confrontation. Carole had called the police herself when she was burgled eighteen months before. They had been helpful and courteous, as they had been when she was having trouble with her next-door neighbour a few years before. However, she instinctively adopted the tone of defender-of-theoppressed when faced with officials of any sort. Both police officers stiffened a little as Carole entered the room. Saying that they now had enough information to be getting on with, PC Springer excused herself and went into the hallway to radio in. ‘What are you going to do now?’ Carole asked PC Kryzwoska pointedly. PC Kryzwoska coughed to clear her throat then outlined what the police would do. This would include speaking to the headmistress and his form teacher at 34

Pipe dream St Thatcher’s school. They would try and discover who this ‘Teacake’ is. She assured Siobhan that officers were already checking the arcades, fast food outlets, local parks and everywhere that they knew that kids gravitated to. They had also broadcast Terence’s description to the emergency services and hospitals. Carole tightened her lips and widened her eyes as she stared at PC Kryzwoska to indicate that she did not think she should have mentioned this but it was too late. For Siobhan, hearing mention of the emergency services and hospitals shattered the already weakened levy trying to contain the flood of her emotions and she started to weep uncontrollably. PC Kryzwoska put her hand on Siobhan’s shoulder to try and comfort her and tried to retrieve the situation. ‘Informing the services is only routine.’ PC Springer called Carole into the hallway to have a quiet word. ‘Will you be staying with Mrs. O’Shea?’ Carole hesitated – she hadn’t planned for that. ‘Eh! Maybe she should go to her sisters. It might be better for her to be with family,’ Carole suggested. ‘No,’ PC Springer said firmly. ‘She needs to stay here in case Terence comes home of his own accord.’ ‘Oh, yeah – well, I’ll stay until I can arrange something else.’ ‘Good. But keep her away from the TV and radio. The media have a habit of picking up on incidents like this quite quickly and they tend to lean towards worst case scenarios. If you know what I mean.’ PC Springer pointed with her eyebrows in the direction of Siobhan. Carole took a slow breath through her nostrils and nodded to indicate acceptance of her new responsibilities. Finally the two PCs left. Siobhan saw them out. She then returned to the brightly lit kitchen and a night of tears, consoling words, supporting hugs, anxious phone calls and many, many mugs of tea and coffee. 35

TOX

3 Rah Tuss

With his peripheral vision, Tox saw movement. He looked up from the screen of his mopho and just caught sight of something pulling back out of sight. ‘Help me. Please help me. Hello!’ he shouted, and then waited breath held, for a response. Nothing. ‘Oh Please! Please! Please! I need help!’ There was nothing but the trickling of water. Despite his predicament Tox managed some logic: Whoever this is they’re scared of me. Despair was gelling rapidly again when Tox saw movement again to the left edge of the circle of his vision. He decided to try a gentler approach. ‘Don’t be afraid,’ he said softly but eagerly. ‘I won’t hurt you. Please don’t be afraid. I need your help. Please!’ The figure pulled back out of view but this time, after a few seconds, a head appeared cautiously looking round the edge of the circumference of Tox’s view. ‘Don’t be afraid. There’s nothing to be scared of. I won’t hurt you and I need help, please.’ Tox kept his voice as calm and even as his urgency would allow him. Gradually the figure inched into full view. In the strange pink light it was 36

Rah Tuss difficult to make out features properly but the initial impression was of a strange looking kid. Tox tried to harder to see. The kid looked like he might be plump, although the full-length fur coat that he was wearing, made it difficult to gauge what was underneath it. ‘Hi,’ Tox said desperately trying to gain the newcomer’s confidence. The kid twitched nervously and made as if he was going to run away again. ‘No wait!’ Tox ordered with muted impatience. This is like trying to grasp water. ‘There‘s nothing to be afraid of. What are you scared of?’ The kid stopped again. ‘You’d be pencil pared too, if your train connection duster and chalked to ya,’ he said in a squeaky voice. ‘What?’ Tox enquired curling up his nose in puzzlement. ‘You’d be pencil pared too, if your train connection duster and chalked to ya, wouldn’t ya?’ ‘”Pencil pared?” “Train connection?” What “train connection?” What are you talking about?’ ‘Train connection – reflection - like what you see yourself in. Don’t you squeak the tinglish slanguage?’ the odd kid squeaked in reply. This rang a bell with Tox. Hang on! Gramps used to talk like this, for fun sometimes. Knock-kneed rhyming slang, he called it. Tox remembered he could never make out what Gramps was saying, when he used to tease him with it but it was always worth having a go, as Gramps would often reward him with chocolate or a fifty-pence piece for his efforts. Right then, Tox reminded himself, that the reward this time might be rescue, so he set his aching brain to trying to decode what he had just heard.

37

TOX Gramps used to say that sometimes you had to ignore the first word of two, as it’s often only there to keep the rhythm. Like the boy said: “train connection” equals “reflection” - so what’s “pencil pared?” Bared? Dared? Cared? No don’t make sense. Flared? Spared? Scared? Hey maybe!’ Tox ran the sentence again in his head, substituting the possible translation: ‘You’d be scared too, if your reflection ….. What’s “duster and chalked?” Think! Walked? Could be talked. Hey that’s it! You’d be scared too if you reflection talked to you. That’s what he’s tryin’ to say! ‘What! Are you trying to say you thought I was you in a mirror?’ Tox exclaimed, unable to disguise his disbelief. ‘Too right!’ The kid squeaked. ‘You’d be pencil pared too, ya would and your bicycle-clips not movin’.’ “Bicycle-clips?” Trips? Ships? Dips? Pips? Sips?’ Tox tried to decipher. Then he heard Gramps voice in his head: ‘Lips! - Lips not moving.’ ‘How could you think you look like me?’ Tox replied adding a touch of impatience to his tone of disbelief. ‘I’m a dustbin-lid like you,’ was the squeaked retort. ‘Dustbin-lid? Hid? Did?’ Tox began, then heard Gramps voice again: “Kid!” Thanks Gramps! ‘I’m not a ….you’re nothin’ like me!’ Tox snorted indignantly. ‘Am!’ ‘You’re not! Listen to you for a start. You don’t talk right.’ ‘I can duster and chalk as good as you.’ Tox could not think how to describe the difference, so he changed his line of attack. ‘Look at you. You’re nothing like me!’ Tox’s vision was clearer now. 38

Rah Tuss ‘Look at your hair, Man, and like your …. your …clothes. You’re definitely not happening, guy. And like your face and like your nose… it’s like all pointy and you’re fat.’ ‘Have a butcher’s hook at your national elf,’ came the defensive reply. To Tox’s great relief, Gramps’ voice was translating straight away: ‘Have a look at yourself!’ ‘Your Yogi Bear’s a two-and-eight, your clobber’s torn and you ain’t exactly skin and bone.’ the kid continued. ‘Your hair’s in a state, and your clothes are torn and you’re carrying a bit of weight,’ Gramps’ voice translated. Tox looked down at himself. His school jacket was torn in several places and as much of himself as he could see was stained and dirty from sliding on the dirty roof of the van and probably from the fall down the pipe as well. ‘Yeah, but that’s cause I fell down here.’ ‘See, just like me,’ squeaked his new debating partner with the satisfaction of having proved a point. He then went as if to leave again. ‘No! Wait!’ Tox ordered but included a pleading tone. What am I doing? I’m losing my mind, or perhaps I’ve lost it already. I mean, is this for real? Is this really happening? Tox could not think of any way to test it out. Perhaps the knock on my head is making me see things. Who is this strange kid? Why does he talk so weird? What’s he doing down here anyway? Whatever the answers are, right now he is the only hope I got. I gotta keep him here. ‘Look eh! What’s your name?’ ‘Rah mate. You?’ ‘Tox. Look, Raw Meat, do you know the way out of here?’ ‘Here, I know and here is out. And me ‘andle’s “Rah” me old china.’ 39

TOX ‘Don’t know about the first bit but, his name’s just “Rah” and he’s calling you his “china plate”, his “mate” It means “friend,” Gramps’ voice explained. Rah went on to explain by touching the wall. ‘Branches and sticks in the beck and call, we are out. Isn’t it?’ ‘Bricks are in the wall, we are not,’ Gramps’ voice said helpfully. Tox looked puzzled. ‘What?’ Rah pointed at a Tesco carrier-bag floating by, almost totally submerged in the filthy water. ‘That is in and each-way bet. We are out and blue sky.’ ‘The bag is in the water and wet, while we are out and dry.’ Tox nodded thanks to his invisible Gramps. ‘No,’ Tox said, ‘I mean out of this here place, to where other people are, that can help me?’ Rah paused, putting what appeared to Tox to be a disproportionately small hand over his lips in concentration. ‘You know, me thinks I can help ya there, me new china.’ ‘Good! Good!’ Tox exclaimed enthusiastically. ‘So, can you go and get someone please - to help me?’ Rah just stood there. ‘Rah?’ Tox interrupted the silence. ‘And will there be a dagger and sword for me bubbles?’ Rah asked. ‘He wants a reward for his troubles,’ Gramps translated. The little … Tox was annoyed but decided not to show it. ‘As you can see I got nothin’ with me right now.. but, when I get out..’ 40

Rah Tuss ‘I do Adam and Eve that ain’t the brutal youth.’ ‘He doesn’t believe that’s the total truth,’ Gramps voice translated. Rah was pointing his spindly index finger directly at Tox’s precious mopho. No! Not my mopho! Tox thought in horror. In an instant he remembered all he had had to do to earn it. ‘But I’ll need it to call Mum when I get out of here,’ Tox improvised with a pleading tone. No, not my mopho! Anything but my mopho! But Tox had nothing else with him. ‘Look, I’ll sort you something when I get out. I’ll come back and bring you something - truth!’ Rah shrugged his shoulders and went to move away. ‘No! Wait!’ Tox ordered, in a panic at the thought of being left alone again. ‘Ok! Ok!’ Rah stopped again and smiled, his thin lips parting to reveal two bucked front teeth at the top. ‘But I’m over here and your over there,’ Tox said, sounding almost pleased at the problem, ‘I can’t get it to you!’ Rah thought for a moment putting his little hand over his mouth again. Then he raised his twig-like finger in the air and opened his mouth in a tacit ‘Ah!’ before scampering off out of sight. When he returned he had what looked like a family-size empty plastic ice-cream container and a long piece of wire, with uneven kinks in it like a straightened out wire clothes hanger. Rah mimed to Tox that he wanted him to put his precious mopho into the empty container. ‘But how - I can’t reach?’ Rah stuck his scrawny finger in the air again and did the toothy smile, as he cocked his pointy head to one side. ‘Worry not, me new china.’ 41

TOX Rah then placed the container on to the stream, holding it in place against the strong current, while he put the end of the wire in it. Next, he pushed it carefully across towards Tox. I can’t do this! - You must, you need help, or else you might never get found. – But not my sweet Cell CS mopho! It’s too much. Please! It’s not fair! – You need help! – Yeah but... – Yeah but nothing! You need help. This could be life or death. Reluctantly Tox accepted what he had to do. He scraped forward as close as he dared to the lip of the pipe he was in. Changing his mopho to his left hand, he leaned out and pulled the container in towards him, then he lifted it, dripping from the surface of the stream. He looked at it, curling his lip in disapproval. It’s mingin, Man! How could I possibly put my sweet Cell CS in such a thing, Man? The container had black dirt in all its corners and crevices and had obviously been lying discarded for some time, as a green film had grown over one whole side. Tox looked up at Rah. He was standing with the wire like an extension of his little outstretched arm pointing towards the dirty carton. Rah shook the wire. Tox looked at his treasure. How could Rah expect ….. Why should I…. ‘What’s the dilly-dally, China?’ ‘How do I know I can trust you?’ Rah just shook the wire again. Chef! I’ve no choice, Tox thought, fighting his every instinct to tell Rah to get lost. He’s my only hope. Otherwise I could end up… Tox choked off the thought but Gramps’ voice said: ‘brown bread!’ Tox gritted his teeth. I’ll get it back first chance I get. 42

Rah Tuss He then carefully placed his precious mopho in the cleanest part of the container. He looked up at Rah, hoping to see a change of heart. But Rah just stood there and waved the wire, to indicate that Tox should now place the carton back on the water. With tears welling in his eyes, Tox obeyed. With great care he lowered the makeshift vessel back on to the water and held it against the current, while Rah leant over from the other side and attempted to engage the end of the wire inside its lip. ‘Let go,’ Rah squeaked. ‘Are you sure you’ve got it?’ ‘Course I ‘ave!’ Tox remained unconvinced but shut his eyes and let go. Immediately the current tested Rah’s degree of control. Tox, having opened his eyes, was alarmed at how the fast current made the container shift about, as though it was alive and trying to shake itself free of the tenuous grip of the wire. A moment later his worst fears were realised as the container tipped backwards almost going over. ‘No!’ Tox shouted but the wire slipped easily out of its hold. In an instant the container righted itself, giving Tox one last glimpse of his treasure, before it spun on the water and was carried rapidly downstream. Without thinking Tox leapt out of the pipe mouth into the water. To his shock it was only about seven inches deep. ‘What the..?’ he began but stopped when he realised that his precious mopho was rapidly being swept further and further away. He adjusted himself to up-right and splashed down the arched passageway after it. By now the container was about thirty feet ahead and spinning erratically as the current took it around a gentle bend. As he got to the bend, Tox saw that the diffuse pink light did not extend fully round the corner, but he did not hesitate. After another twenty-five feet of splashing, Tox was almost within reach but there was a cast-iron railing just ahead that came down from the curved roof, to just above the surface of the water. In desperation Tox leant forward and 43

TOX tried to snatch the container but it brushed against one of the pointed rails and drifted, almost lazily, through the gap, where Tox could not follow. He bent down on his hunkers and pushed his arm through, until his neck and ear were pressed hard against a cold bar but he was too late. ‘No!’ he exclaimed, as he watched it disappear into the hopeless darkness. In an instant his despair was swamped by a wave of anger rushing through his veins. He curled up his lip. Where is he the stupid chef? I’m gonna give him good. Tox rose back to his full height again and ran back the way he had come. As he splashed around the bend again, he could see no sign of Rah. Tox leapt out of the water and on to the pathway that ran along beside it. This allowed him to run faster. Tox passed the piece of wire that Rah had been using, left where he had dropped it, leaning against the edge of the pathway, half in the dirty stream. His head still felt inflated with anger. He set his focus ahead in search of any sign of Rah. He avoided looking at the mouth of the pipe, in which he had spent so many of the previous hours, as he felt an uncomfortable dread of what he might see. As he ran, Tox began to realise that finding Rah might not be so easy. First he passed one corridor that led off at a slight angle to his right. Then a few strides further on there was another and then shortly after that another that disappeared into the distance off to the left on the other side of the stream. Then there were more and more passageways on both sides. They seemed to fork like lightening and reminded Tox of the diagrams of veins and nerves that they had been shown the week before in a lesson at school. Tox noticed that these new passageways were dry and did not have filthy streams in them like the one he was running along side. Tox also noticed that the pink light had been steadily getting brighter. This is hopeless. He could be anywhere. I’ll never find him! He slowed to a halt and rested his hand against the regular brickwork at the arched entrance to one of the passageways to support himself as he panted. 44

Rah Tuss ‘Ugh!’ Tox pulled his hand away. Strangely the brickwork did not feel cold and had a slight sponginess to the touch. Tox redistributed his weight back on to his legs and checked his hand for residue from the wall but found no clues as to its composition. Then he heard it. Difficult at first to recognise or determine where it was coming from but it was definitely there, a squeaky whimpering which he instantly associated with his short experience of Rah. Tox moved from passage mouth to passage mouth stopping each time to listen. Ha! Eventually, despite the complication of the soft echoes, he was sure. He strode angrily up the selected passage which curved gradually away from the rank stream, much to the relief of his sense of smell. Almost immediately Tox saw other passageways branching off right and left. He tried following one but it rapidly got tighter and tighter until it petered out to a dead-end after about ten seconds. This inflamed his anger even more. After two further frustrating dead-ends Tox found Rah sitting huddled on the floor of yet another short off-shoot. Rah was whimpering into his knees with his short arms holding one-the-other in front of his shins. On seeing Tox arrive Rah shriveled further and raised the pitch of his whimpering. Without thinking Tox grabbed two handfuls of Rah’s fur coat and lifted him up against the wall as Rah wailed loudly in terror. ‘Don’t hurt me!’ Rah pleaded pitifully. ‘You little…’ Tox started to say angrily but something was not right. Both of them

were

about

the

same

height,

yet

lifting

Rah

had

been,

disproportionately easy - like in a cartoon. Tox looked down and realised he was holding Rah with both his feet fully off the ground. How can I be doing this? The surprise began to dissipate Tox’s anger. He looked at Rah’s face with its thin mouth quivering in terror and his eyes wide with fear. 45

TOX What am I doing? Now I’m the bully, he thought. This is crazy, Man. I’m losing it. ‘You’re probably not even real, Man,’ Tox said out loud. ‘This doesn’t make sense, any of it. I’m losing it. It’s not real - none of it,’ Tox said more to himself than to Rah. ‘Is!’ was the immediate protested response. ‘A proper dustbin-lid like Chelsea blue.’ ‘Huh?’ Tox was puzzled for a moment but then Gramps voice was back: ‘He means he’s s real kid like you.’ ‘Is.’ Rah repeated childishly. ‘Can’t be! You can’t even talk proper. Like no one’s talked like that in yonks! Listen to you.’ Tox realised he was still holding Rah suspended off the ground. He lowered him down and released his hold. ‘I can duster and chalk same as Chelsea blue,’ Rah repeated as he straightened himself out. ‘Yeah Sure!’ Tox said not wanting to open that avenue of discussion again. ‘Look why don’t you just show me the way out, Man, like you promised?’ Rah looked down at the floor in shame. Then shuffling in embarrassment on the heels of his rounded feet he asked meekly: ‘Whatcha king and queen ‘out’?’ This made Tox angry again. ‘So now you’re telling me you don’t even know what “out” means!’ he yelled. ‘So why did you promise to help me? Eeeh? You’re useless. I should have realised. You’ve done nothing. You can’t do nothing. You’re useless!’ ‘Nuffin‘s cattle yard I tell ya,’ Rah replied when it might have been wiser to say nothing. 46

Rah Tuss ‘Nothing is hard?’ Gramps voice said doubtfully. ‘What?’ Tox roared in disbelief. ‘What are you talking about now?’ ‘Fancy-clock Gurrel’s been tryin’ for pleading tears to do nuffin an’ no mistake - too cattle yard.’ Rah replied doing his best to ignore Tox’s rage. ‘Doc Gurrel has been trying to do nothing for eh! - years but its too hard.’ Gramps voice translated. Tox’s ears pricked up. ‘What did you say?’ ‘Doing nuffin’s too cattle yard, me ol’ china,’ Rah squeaked in all innocence trying to appear helpful. ‘No! No! Not that,’ Tox said impatiently. ‘Who did you say? Did you say a “doctor”?’ ‘Yeah! A fancy-clock.’ Rah looked pleased that something he had said was of interest to Tox. A doctor! Good! He will know something. He’ll help me get out of this crazy place! ‘So, do you know where this doctor is?’ Tox enquired eagerly. ‘Can you take me to him?’ ‘’Ur’ Rah corrected, delighted to at last be able to please his new friend. ‘Ok her! Good!’ Tox said humourlessly. ‘Then let’s ….’ But Rah was already scurrying off gesturing excitedly for Tox to follow him. Tox thought of many questions he would like to ask about this doctor but considering the difficulty he had experienced up to then in getting Rah to answer the simplest of questions in language he could understand, he decided to follow in silence.

47

TOX

4 Ravi’s story

‘Ravi!’ It was Mum’s voice. ‘Ravi, answer me.’ Ravi felt himself waking up. Aw! Chef man! Up until then he and the bros were rolling a huge bolder over to the edge of the quarry wall to push it over just for the splash it would make in the green water way below but now Mum was down there. How did she get there? She’s always messin’ things. She’s no business. It’s my dream. In it he was hanging with a posse of bros who gave him respect. He belonged. It felt sweet. It was so real he even knew the faces. One was like Dodi and another bro looked like Pinki. Hang on! These are my new bros. It’s for real Man! Even before he opened his eyes he felt a rush of excitement. It’s cool! No, it’s sweet! Real sweet! Excellent in fact! He could feel the certainty flooding through his whole being. Without the usual need for the several rounds of nagging from Mum, Ravi threw back the duvet and sprang upright, on the window-ward side of his 48

Ravi’s story bed. He pulled the edge of the golden curtain back. It was overcast and grey outside but he wasn’t bothered. Today was going to be excellent because of whom he would be hanging with. At last things are falling into place in my life. The last few weeks have been proper sweet.

‘You’re early?’ Mum said quizzically as Ravi arrived downstairs fully dressed. ‘Yeah eh…’ Ravi had not thought about the fact that his early start would arouse suspicion. ‘Eh! Gotta be in school early. Eh! We got a match later. We have to discuss moves – tactics like.’ ‘You would be much better off if you dedicated as much time to school work as you do to that football,’ Mum said disapprovingly. ‘Football is no good for us. We are gifted mostly in the mind. You need to learn to use your brain, not your feet.’ Ravi poured and started to eat his cereal in silence. He knew that there was no gain in arguing back. He turned his hearing down and began to picture better things. Things he had done recently with the bros. Mum interpreted his silence as a sign that he was listening and continued into her usual litany of well intentioned abusive comparisons. “You’ll never be like Ganesh and Raj,” he was frequently told. “You don’t try hard enough. You’re too lazy at school.” “You’re never going to amount to anything unless you buck your ideas up,” Etc., etc. Ganesh was nine years older than Ravi and although still at college, he was already frequently asked to do “little jobs” sorting out accounts for friends of the family. His rewards for doing these had provided him with the 49

TOX latest mopho, the j-Sphere games console and designer clothes and trainers, all of which were high on Ravi’s most wanted list. Raj was only three years older than Ravi and still at school but he could put a computer together from spare parts. He too flaunted the rewards he got for sorting out IT problems for family and friends. Ganesh and Raj took sadistic pleasure in taunting Ravi along the same lines as Mum but more than the painful taunts from his older brothers, Ravi most resented the unfavourable comparisons with his sister Jyoti. Jyoti, less than a year older, was always “so much more focused on school work.” Mum didn’t even keep the hurtful comparisons to within the immediate family. Even Ravi’s cousins of the same age were “already proving themselves.” ‘You will be a disgrace to this family,’ Mum’s voice came back into focus. It had been driving Ravi crazy but no longer. Now Ravi had something. He belonged. He was respected for what he could add and rewarded for his unquestioning loyalty. Now he had proper brothers that he could depend on and who depended on him. There were other rewards too. He already had a better mopho and had received a couple of bonuses but these were just extras. The main thing was the sweet sense of belonging, of knowing what was expected, of showing respect and being respected, of being a trusted part of a force for making things happen. Today’s gonna be truly excellent once I escape from this hell-hole called “home”. Having gulped down his breakfast, Ravi rose, grabbed his school bag and headed for the door. Mum called him back. ‘What about a kiss goodbye for Mum?’ Ravi dutifully delivered the required kiss without warmth, as Mum continued her unheeded lecture on his endless failings. At last Ravi was out in the fresh morning air. Breathing a sigh of relief he made his way to the rendezvous point where he found Dino, Pinki, Dodi, 50

Ravi’s story June, Gravy and Rasper already there. They engaged in their elaborate greetings ritual, which involved a meticulously followed sequence of hand clasping, knuckle pressing, nods, shoulder shrugs and exaggerated facial expressions. All of which were accompanied at specific points with phrases like: “bro for bro,” “respect respect,” “us for us.” They had barely finished when the arrival of Pencil and Choker with SisR started a new round of greetings as elaborate as before but hurried towards the end on SisR’s insistence. SisR was anxious to get to St Thatcher’s before the kids started to arrive. Ravi smiled to himself - the Crew was whole again. Cool! They caught the 149 bus to Uptown High Street. Ravi sat on the long back seat and told a highly exaggerated tale of how he had run away from home before joining the Crew. He continually glanced up the bus to where SisR sat on the right. Ravi projected his voice in the hope that SisR might be listening but SisR was staring out of the window, deep in planning. SisR was still seething at being outsmarted the day before. This Little Business Dude will pay. He’ll be required to show respect. Tox had been proper disrespectful. Tox had failed to hire the best crew available as muscle for his business. Tox had ignored the proper order of things. The idea was clever - SisR would give him that much - but Tox hadn’t done his homework. Worst of all Tox hadn’t bothered to discover who the best crew was. He should have come to me. Little Business Dude’s dissed me proper. Worst of all Tox had hired some wimpy posse from St Beven’s to interfere at St Wilson’s – SisR’s manor. That’s terminal - total dis. For all these sins he’s gonna hurt. For all of these facts the Crew’s on this CREWsade. SisR saw his own reflection in the bus window smile at his mental pun.

51

TOX After the bus the Crew cut through the Uptown estate, past adults with their shoulders hunched against the chill as they left their homes for work. They passed a N-reg Vectra struggling to start in Side Street. They took the narrow cut-through passage to Knot Close. At the corner of Knot Close SisR came to an abrupt halt and corralled the Crew with his right arm to fall in behind him. ‘Chef!’ he exclaimed. ‘What’s up?’ Pinki queried from down the huddled ranks. ‘Ssh!’ SisR ordered before he turned his head back to face the Crew. ‘The chefing gate’s crawling with helmets’. SisR turned back and peeked round the corner with one eye. ‘They’re stopping everyone arriving and showing them something then letting them go in. One of the helmets has stopped someone and is writing stuff in his notebook.’ ‘Chef!’ SisR heard several of his Crew say. I bet it’s cos a that nerd Jaap. I’ll have to ditch his mopho. He’ll hurt for this. ‘It looks like the helmets are gonna stay there – at least until after school starts. Chef!’ The Crew had been forced to abandon the hunt for Tox again. So, cursing the turn of events, the Crew made their way unenthusiastically back to St Wilson’s. Once there, they agreed to meet at lunchtime, then split up and scattered to their various classrooms.

52

Nothing doing

5 Nothing doing

Tox couldn’t tell how long he followed along with Rah scampering excitedly on ahead. They travelled through passageways that lead off from passageways to other passageways. All of which were constructed of the same even brickwork with carefully constructed arching roofs and no distinguishing features. That’s another thing about this place that’s weird, the walls are clear - no graffiti - no tags, Man. Can’t think of nowhere kids ain’t got to. This is stupid, it can’t be for real. There ain’t no place where a posse of some sort ain’t bragged in big coloured cartoon letters that they got there. But no matter where Rah led the walls remained totally clear. It ain’t exactly encouraging. Tox looked behind him – it was the same as in front and all the passageways off to left and right. I’m probably makin’ a big mistake by trustin’ him. I’ll never find my way back to the pipe now. What if someone comes to rescue me? How will they find me now? Hmph! Not likely though is it? The only ones who know where I might be are SisR and his crew and they ain’t gonna tell no one. No, this doctor woman’s my best chance. Gotta stick with it.

53

TOX So on and on they went through the boring passageways with Tox beginning to feel claustrophobic. Tox was biting his lip to stop himself from asking the obvious questions. How much further? What’s this doctor like? Wouldn’t there be other people there – like patients, maybe? What is that annoying phrase you keep singing? At every passage junction Rah was now stopping and looking this way and that while holding his chin as if puzzled by which way they should go. Each time, just as Tox would catch him up, Rah would suddenly decide and with flick of his scrawny finger, dart off in his chosen direction. ‘Are you sure you know where we are going?’ Tox asked several times, his doubts about Rah increasing with each instance. ‘Course China, course!’ Rah replied each time, without sounding in anyway convincing. Finally, Tox had had enough. The next time Rah hesitated, Tox summoned the energy to run forward and grab him by the shoulders of his loose fitting fur coat. ‘Look! I’ve had enough of this nonsense, Man!’ he said angrily. Rah turned to face Tox, his eyes once again wide with terror. ‘So where is she then, eeeh? Where is this doctor, eeeh? Do you know? Do you really know or are you messin’ me about again, eeeh? You don’t seem so sure to me. What is it that we are looking for anyway?’ Tox yelled in an unbroken torrent before pausing for breath. ‘Kissing snores,’ Rah replied. Hissing doors? Gramps’ voice interjected uncertainly before Tox was in full rant again. ‘So where are these doors then, eeeh? What do they look like?’ ‘Touch o’ class, elephant ink, two gliding brides.’ Rah squeaked timidly.

54

Nothing doing Pink glass with two sliding sides - sounds like automatic doors to me, Gramps voice suggested. ‘Well where is it? I’ve had enough, do you hear? Enough! I want to be there now – now - do you hear?’ Suddenly everything blurred in a rush. Tox felt a strange jolt in his stomach and head. Next he was landing with a bump, still holding on to Rah. They were at the mouth of a corridor but a different corridor. The regular brickwork and pale lighting were similar to where they had been but the angle was different and there was a single fork where moments before there had been two. ‘What was that?’ Tox asked, his anger dissipated by the shock. ‘Blimey!’ Rah said. ‘Whoda Adam ‘n’ Eved it!’ ‘What?’ Tox asked anxiously, as he began to realise that whatever had happened was having a delayed affect on his body. His head felt giddy and his stomach was turning over and over, making him feel really queasy. ‘Blimey! You Waltz-gliders really got the day ‘n hour!’ Rah said with nauseating glee and apparently free from the symptoms swamping Tox. Hmm! Difficult one! Gramps said. I think “Waltz-gliders” rhymes with his term for your and my kind - but anyway, he says you have the power. ‘What?’ Tox said to both parties but only got a reply from Rah that was even more puzzling. ‘Eh! Like you can do with a bishop’s crook or a dividy-dee.’ I think he means like a book or a DVD – hmm! - I didn’t think he would know about DVDs, Gramps said sounding puzzled again, before Rah continued. ‘In the for diddle or at the ‘orse ‘n cart, if you wanna take a butcher’s at the way the Jack-A-Nory twists ‘n’ bends, you Desperate Dan. Us Emma Peelanders chough n’ pant but youse Waltz-gliders Desperate Dan! Blimey!’ Tox looked around for Gramps, who of course was not there but luckily his voice was. 55

TOX In the middle or at the start of a book or DVD if you want to look at how the story ends, you can. We – “Emma Peelanders”- what he calls his kind - can’t but your kind can! Gramps translated. ‘And I took the blame with Chelsea blue! Knock me down with a feather!’ And he came with you. And he’s impressed! Gramp’s explanation made Tox feel even worse. He tried to stand up and had to rest both hands against the brickwork of the wall because he felt so dizzy. Rah popped up to his feet without any problem. ‘ ‘Ere we are then – the kissing snores,’ he said happily as he gestured up the adjacent passageway. ‘Good!’ Tox sighed but when he looked along the appointed passage it looked no different from any of the others. Tox squinted up his eyes to maximise the usefulness of the strange pink light. Then he saw it. About thirty feet up along the passage to the left, the uniformity of the regular brickwork was broken. ‘Come on,’ he ordered impatiently. As Tox arrived, a two-panelled electric door hissed open to reveal a long bland corridor. The floor was covered in a uniform navy-blue hard-wearing carpet and, much to Tox’s relief, the entire corridor was bathed in bright white light emanating from regularly spaced translucent panels along the centre of the ceiling, probably containing florescent tubes. Tox stepped over the threshold without hesitation. This is more like it! At last I’m getting somewhere, Tox thought as his feet appreciated the change from the brickwork to the softer carpet. He glanced back. Rah had come to a complete stop and stood just short of the blue carpet with a miserable expression exaggerated by the pink light. ‘What’s keeping you? Come on!’ Tox ordered. Rah curled his thin bottom lip over his top, in what was intended to be a pout. 56

Nothing doing ‘Cough ‘n pant, China. The fancy clock said I’m battle-scarred for clever Trevor.’ Rah’s voice was full of self-pity. He can’t. This doc said he’s barred for life! Ha! Gramps voice laughed. That I can understand! Tox thought. ‘Anyways, I gotta sort me duster ‘n chalk. This won’t didgeridoo.’ Rah managed to say just as the doors hissed shut between the two of them. Tox turned to follow his first instinct which was to carry on along the corridor. But the manners that Mum had nagged him consistently over, tugged at his conscience. Huh! He’s been nothing but problems since we met. He’s lost me my Cell CS600 for a start. - But he did bring me here, - eventually! So reluctantly Tox turned round to go back and say thanks. He walked right up to the sliding doors but they didn’t open. Tox looked at the floor. There mustn’t be a pressure mat on this side. The thought radically reduced his air of enthusiasm. Hmm! There’s no way back – unless I break the glass. Although the doors appeared translucent, he couldn’t see Rah because of the difference in brightness between the two sides. ‘Eh! Thanks!’ he mumbled putting his mouth close to the point where the two door panels met. He waited for a moment then, not hearing any response, turned away awkwardly to walk up the stark blue and white corridor.

57

TOX

6 Mum’s morning

Siobhan was exhausted and looked it. Being awake all night had clearly taken its toll. Carole had tried to persuade her to get some sleep. She had even offered to go home and get some of her own sleeping tablets but Siobhan had refused. Carole had needed the frequent mugs of coffee throughout the night and even with these she had still struggled to stop her head nodding on many occasions. But then, she told herself, I did put a full day’s work in yesterday before rushing over here. Siobhan had been working all the day before too but Siobhan had the company of her dread and worry to keep her mind active. During the night, on the hour every hour, Siobhan had insisted on phoning the local police station. This was despite being told each time that there had been no developments and that they would phone her as soon as there was anything in the slightest to report. As PC Springer had instructed, Carole had tried to distract Siobhan away from listening to the radio, in fear of gruesome news bulletins. Acting as DJ, Carole had selected a sequence of CDs to play in the background but had found that she needed to be careful in her choice as some of them aroused memories for Siobhan of times with her son and invoked a fresh round of heavy tears. In the sluggish grey light of the November dawn Carole struggled to justify keeping the TV off. The only tactic that her exhausted brain could come up

58

Mum’s morning with was to try and distract Siobhan. When Siobhan suggested the TV, Carole asked if she needed her to phone work. ‘Who should I ask for?’ ‘What time will they likely get into the office?’ Next time Carole used the tactic of talking about having to phone into work for herself, then quickly went off on a tangent about trivial events that had happened there. It all seemed too obvious a strategy to Carole but Siobhan was exhausted and mostly glad to be distracted by anything that took her mind away from the horror possibilities that swarmed like angry hornets through her jaded thoughts. By ten past eight Carole was inwardly beginning to congratulate herself on her success when the phone rang. Siobhan snapped it up. ‘Is it the police? Have they found him?’ Carole asked. Siobhan shook her head, her solemn face full of disappointment. It was Kim, a colleague of Siobhan’s from the dental surgery where she worked. ‘I was looking at the news on the TV and couldn’t believe it. It is your Terence isn’t it?’ ‘I thought so. You must be worried out of your mind. Is there anything I can do?’ ‘If you do think of anything let me know, immediately, ok?’ Tears were in full stream again. Siobhan grabbed the remote control and switched the television on, then flopped down on the settee. Carole sat down beside her, putting her arm around her shoulder. There wasn’t another local news slot until just before nine o’clock. Before then Siobhan had to endure two further tearful phone calls, one from her sister Asumpta, the other from Maggie, a friend from down the block. After that she delegated all further answering to Carole, who assertively took over from the fourth. All were enquiries from acquaintances, friends or family. None were from the police.

59

TOX As PC Springer had forecast, the TV news went in for speculation that was unhelpful for Siobhan. The journalists debated what could have happened to Terence and similarities to other cases of child disappearances. Then they went on to speculate on how long a child of that age could survive out in the November weather, even if it was particularly mild for the time of year. When Siobhan could take no more Carole took back the remote then squeezed her hand, stuck for any words that would offer comfort. At twenty past nine Carole answered the front door bell only to be confronted by a female journalist and a photographer who immediately snapped a picture of her stunned expression. ‘Mrs. O’Shea I’m here to help you find your son. The more members of the public know about this tragic disappearance the better the….’ At this point Carole recovered her wits enough to slam the door shut in the journalist’s face but not before the photographer had snapped her several more times in quick succession. At ten forty-five the police arrived, again two female officers. This time they introduced themselves as Sergeant Radlett and PC Begum. Sergeant Radlett reported gently that they had a lead they were pursuing with great urgency. ‘From first thing this morning officers have been posted at the gates of St Thatcher’s School. They have been questioning every pupil as they arrive, asking when and where they last saw your son Terence O’Shea. Surprisingly almost all said they had never heard of him but when they were shown a copy of the photograph of Terence that you provided us with, many recognised him as ‘Tox,’ some kind of nickname maybe.’ ‘Tox?’ Siobhan said ‘That’s his initials!’ Both officers looked puzzled. ‘Terence, Osin, Xsaviour, spelt with an ‘X,’ Siobhan explained. PC Begum looked a Sergeant Radlett and briefly raised her eyebrows before noting down what had been said. 60

Mum’s morning ‘Anyway,’ Sergeant Radlett continued. ‘Through our investigations we have discovered that there was some trouble at the rear gate of the school yesterday afternoon as pupils were leaving. A classmate of Terence’s, a boy called Jaap - do you know him?’ ‘No.’ Siobhan shook her head anxious that Sergeant Radlett didn’t delay further. ‘Well this boy Jaap was assaulted and mugged. He had his mobile phone stolen by a gang of boys from St Wilson’s school. This boy has made a statement and informed us that these St Wilson’s boys were really looking for Terence. This boy Jaap Hammond has said that he is Terence’s best friend. Are you sure you have never heard of him?’ ‘No! I mean yes I’m sure. I mean I don’t know. I can’t think clearly,’ Siobhan blurted out in a fluster of desperation to be helpful. Carole squeezed her arm around her shoulder to try and reassure her. ‘Anyway,’ Sergeant Radlett resumed, ‘This boy Jaap mentioned another friend of your son’s, someone he called “Teacake”.’ ‘I’ve heard Terence mention him,’ Siobhan interrupted excitedly. ‘Our officers asked this Jaap to point him out but apparently he is not in school today. The school register had no one of that name but, by a process of elimination, we have discovered his real name to be Tarique Ahmed.’ Sergeant Radlett paused and waited for Siobhan to say whether she recognised the full version of the boy’s name. It took Siobhan a few moments to realise what she was supposed to do. ‘No! No! I’ve not heard that name but “Teacake” yes!’ ‘Anyway, we’ve taken his address from the school register and officers are there now.’ Sergeant Radlett assured solemnly. Siobhan tried a smile briefly but failed. ‘Our officers are taking this Jaap Hammond boy to St Wilson’s School to see if he can identify any of the boys who robbed him of his mobile phone,’ 61

TOX Sergeant Radlett went on to say. ‘Apparently your Terence had asked Jaap and the Teacake to report to him on whether the St Wilson’s boys were waiting for him at the school gates. So he must have had some reason to anticipate something.’ ‘So where is this St Wilson’s then?’ Carole asked. ‘I’ve never heard of it.’ Siobhan shook her head to indicate that she hadn’t either. The two officers looked at each other. PC Begum betrayed her distaste for the establishment with a flicker of the edge of her mouth before answering. ‘It’s a large school about two miles for here, near the Down Hill Estate,’ she explained diplomatically deciding not to worry Mrs. O’Shea further with mention of the problems generated there. ‘Two miles? So what could they possibly have to do with Terence?’ Siobhan asked anxiously. ‘Hopefully that’s something our officers will be able to ascertain shortly,’ Sergeant Radlett said positively. ‘And hopefully we’ll discover whether any of those boys saw Terence after school and, if so where. Be assured Mrs. O’Shea we are leaving no stone unturned. We are doing everything possible to find Terence.’ Carole noted that Sergeant Radlett did not say ‘alive’ but wisely kept this dark thought to herself. Shortly after that the two officers left, promising to keep Siobhan informed of developments as soon as they knew of any. PC Begum would be stationed outside from now on. So if Siobhan or Carole thought of anything or if they heard anything, they should let her know. PC Begum would screen callers to the door, see if they could add anything useful and it would also be her job to keep the journalists at bay. Sergeant Radlett said that a properly controlled press conference might be a useful tool at some point but best to let their press officer decide when, where and how it should be done. As Sergeant Radlett left the front door step to return to the car, PC Begum spoke to her quietly aside. 62

Mum’s morning ‘I notice you didn’t mention the phone searches, Sarg.’ ‘No better not to raise expectations. We still need to get a warrant sorted and even then the phone companies aren’t always the most co-operative.’ PC Begum put her bottom lip over her top lip and nodded her understanding. ‘Though if the St Wilson’s brats have kept that boy Jaap’s phone it could prove useful.’ Sergeant Radlett finished on a note of enthusiasm as she slipped into the driver’s seat of the marked white Astra. The car door closed with a clump leaving PC Begum alone to guard the dull damp greyness of the mid-November day.

63

TOX

7 Dr Everything in his new surroundings, apart from the navy-blue carpet, was white, stretching monotonously ahead like an endless squeeze of toothpaste. As he went Tox was surprised to find that he actually missed the company Rah had provided. Probably just ‘cos I’m alone again - init? Anyway I’ll soon be out of this madness. I’ll be home with Mum. He started thinking what Mum would say. What should I say? I’ll have to think of something to avoid having to explain about SisR and his crew. Otherwise it could lead to Mum finding out about my business and I’d have to explain about the extra cash and all – too complicated. I could say I was exploring or something and fell. Huh! It don’t sound very convincing so Mum will never buy it. She’s too smart for that. I’ll have to think of something else. Maybe I could say I was kidnapped…by men in hoods? Nah! The helmets would be all over it. Keep it simple. Occupied by such thoughts Tox trundled on without making any apparent progress when looking ahead. However when he looked back he could not see the door at which he had left Rah. Wow! How long is this place? Enough already! Still I know that what’s back there ain’t up to much! So he carried on and on and on. Finally, with despair circling his thoughts like vultures in a heat haze, he saw what looked like another set of sliding doors 64

Dr ahead in the distance. On arrival he felt disappointed to find it all so unremarkable. Huh! Shouldn’t there be a sign or something over the door, maybe a brass plaque sayin’ Dr Gurrel’s Surgery? But there was nothing. The doors sighed open automatically and his sense of urgency carried him straight in without hesitating to look first. As the door panels sealed together behind him he came to a halt in shock. His mouth dropped open. He was standing at the edge of a huge room, forty or more feet high, at least as big as a football pitch and all completely and totally white. The initial impression was that it was completely covered in frost, like some huge refrigeration unit at the meat plant his class in school had visited. But there were no carcasses and it wasn’t cold! The blast of whiteness made it difficult for Tox to focus his eyes. He couldn’t make out any detail. He squinted. Is there anybody there? After a few moments his eyes began to adjust. Tox could see the outlines of objects in the huge space before him. There appeared to be curved rows of white seats hard to see against the unbroken white of the floor. Tox looked down at his feet. He was on carpet, like the carpet in the corridor he had just left but here it was uniformly white. He squinted again to see better. It looks painted. Come to think of it there’s a smell of paint. It was fresh and heavy on the air. He looked up again. There appeared to be large signs and monitor screens suspended from the high ceiling – all white! His eyes could make out aisles between the rows of seats in front of him. Cautiously he moved forward, looking from side to side in amazement. It’s like seeing at night but in negative. As he arrived at the nearest seats he took a closer look. They’ve definitely been painted.

65

TOX Tox could still make out the faint trace of the original deep blue of the fabric underneath. He looked up at the first monitor screen that he arrived underneath. It hung from the high ceiling by a metal frame. Even the screen looks like it’s been painted white. What the hell is going on? His eyes having adjusted to the monochrome of everything in the vast place, could make out even more shapes and structures. Some looked like counters, others like shops with whited-out windows and others looked like serving areas, but all were completely white. What is this place? It seems familiar but wrong somehow. Moving past the curved rows of seats he arrived at what he estimated was the centre of the huge room. Here he found a circular structure that was divided into three parts making separate counters with gaps probably to let the people in and out. Distracted, he stepped through the gap between two of the desks. But where are the people? Tox looked to the far end of the room. There seemed to be banks of equipment, lots of things dangling from the ceiling including large curved discs that reminded Tox of large TV reception dishes. Weird! What are they doing on the inside? What’s going on here? Tox felt his anger rising again. This don’t look nothin’ like no doctor’s surgery? So where is this doctor then? The total whiteness did make it look clean. Maybe it’s a hospital! Naw! It ain’t got no equipment, like trolleys and drips and wheelchairs and stuff. So where has that durbrain Rah sent me? ‘Hello! Is there anybody here?’ he yelled. ‘Hello!’ Tox’s voice echoed back unevenly from all corners of the vast building. ‘Ugh!’

66

Dr Tox felt a sharp tug on his trouser leg and looked down in fright. At first he saw just a face suspended in the whiteness under the desk he was stood beside. ‘Who are you?’ He exclaimed in alarm. He felt another tug on his leg, then saw an arm gesticulating urgently for him to bend down below the level of the desk. Tox obeyed. The face was that of a young girl. She was hard to see as she was completely clothed in white with just her face and hands exposed. Her feet had no shoes, only white socks. ‘Who are you?’ Tox asked again but quieter this time. The girl put her finger silently but sharply to her lips to command silence. ‘Why?’ Tox whispered. The girl’s eyes were terrified and full of frustration at Tox’s lack of understanding. Suddenly the hand that had been tugging at his trouser leg held a pencil and was writing frantically on the white panel on which the girl was seated. SHE HEAR. Tox raised his eyebrows and showed his open hands in a silent gesture of ‘So what?’ The girl widened her mouth in frustration and scribbled frantically again. EXPERIMENTS ME. Tox looked puzzled and was about to question the girl further when she turned away her gaze and froze tensely, indicating she had heard something outside the circle of desks. Without thinking Tox stuck his head above the top of the desk to look. From a passage between two of the service areas he saw a figure walking rapidly towards him. It was a woman, dressed in white overalls. As she approached, Tox saw that she wore a white tee shirt, all white trainers, short white socks and held a paint-roller completely smeared in white paint in her right hand. Her face was stern and her eyes were tight 67

TOX with anger. Her hair was held back off her face by a white hair-band and Tox could not tell if she was a brunette going grey or a brunette with flecks of white pain’s splashes. Tox knew immediately that he had been seen by the unrelenting focus of her stare. Without moving his head he glanced back down at the girl cowed under the counter. She was absolutely terrified. He looked back towards the stern looking woman rapidly approaching him. Who is this? What can she do that’s so awful? Another glance down showed the girl to be trembling. Tox stood up to his full height and stepped to his left and outside the circle of desks. Then as the woman arrived he took a step forward and could no longer see the girl hugging her trembling knees. The woman said nothing as she reached him so Tox felt obliged to speak. ‘Eh sorry! I was just trying to...’ Before he could finish the woman had bent forward and put her face within a couple of inches of his. ‘Sssh!’ she ordered firmly through clenched teeth and her eyes wide open to indicate her extreme annoyance. She shook her head rapidly from side to side keeping her eyes fixed and staring straight into Tox’s. Tox took a step backwards but still felt uncomfortably too close to the angry woman. ‘Eh! Sorry!’ he said again quieter this time. This only seemed to make the woman even angrier. She widened her eyes still further and bit her lip as she shook her head rapidly again. ‘What?’ Tox said with a puzzled expression. The woman forcefully pulled Tox towards her, pressed her mouth right up against his left ear then whispered so harshly Tox’s eardrum buzzed painfully. ‘What part of “ssh!” do you not understand? Listen!’

68

Dr Tox listened. All he could hear were the echoes of their voices. Then he noticed something strange. The echoes did not seem to be fading away as he would normally expect. ‘Do you mean the echo?’ he enquired without remembering to whisper. The woman took in a deep breath through her nose, while keeping her mouth closed and widening her eyes still further to indicate her increasing displeasure. She straightened back up to her full height. She jerked her head and the paint-roller she was holding, sharply in the direction from which she had emerged earlier. As she strode off at a strong pace Tox got the clear impression that he was meant to follow her, so he did. Like a dog on an invisible leash he trotted along an aisle between curved rows of painted seats. Without slowing her brisk pace the woman, with the paint-roller swinging in step, pointed with her left hand at two massive door panels and they parted. She led Tox through and round a rounded corner into what looked like a long, empty, completely white shopping mall. Tox looked left and right as he followed. They’re shops all right but with all the windows and signs blanked out. The entrances to the various premises were open and Tox tried to see what was inside as he hurried past attempting to keep up. There seemed to be stands and shelving in some, with what looked like packets and bottles on them but it was impossible to be certain as, like everything else, they were uniformly white. To his right in what looked like a smaller single unit shop Tox thought he could make out boxes of chocolates. His pace slowed. Uh! I’m hungry! I haven’t eaten since… Tox felt a sharp tug on his sleeve and turned to find the woman was dragging him towards a small closed door in the wall to the left. Again the woman pointed and the door swung inwards. She then stood by the entrance while Tox entered meekly like a naughty kid being shown into the headmistress’ study.

69

TOX As the door closed silently behind them Tox stood in amazement. The room was stuffed with cuddly toys. There were teddy bears of all sizes, the full range of animals from extinct dinosaurs to gorillas, Micky Meercats, Dooby-scoos, Aunt Sally Dolls, leprechauns, the lot. And all painted in the ubiquitous white. Most were just piled on top of others from the floor upwards but some were tacked to the ceiling, the walls and the back of the door through which Tox had just entered. ‘Right little boy,’ the woman began in a haughty condescending voice that Tox immediately resented. ‘What is the meaning of this?’ Tox couldn’t think how to reply. ‘Well?’ She demanded. ‘How did you get here?’ Ah! A question I can reply to. ‘Eh! Rah showed me the way.’ ‘Huh!’ she tutted. ‘Little Rat Boy. I might have known! You have no right to come here. No right to sabotage my studies by filling my laboratory with your inane noises.’ ‘I’m sorry! I didn’t know. I mean this place is weird. I mean the echoes and everything. Who ever heard of echoes that don’t fade?’ ‘Well of course they don’t fade - how could they? I spent a great deal of my time getting this place properly and totally sound-proofed. It’s absolutely essential to the success of my studies.’ ‘But shouldn’t sound-proofing stop the noise?’ Tox asked with a cheeky puzzlement. He was thinking of what Mr. Patel had taught him about the STEWDEEYO! back at school. ‘It does, stupid boy! Soundproofing designed to keep all noises out will, of course, also keep all sounds made inside within.’ Tox tried to consider this concept as the woman continued with her rant. ‘It works perfectly until fools like you and Rat Boy break in clattering and hollering all over the place. What do you expect? Where do you think the 70

Dr noise you make is going to go? Fool! It will take me hours to cleanse my laboratory of your disgusting noise.’ Tox felt small and truly scolded. No wonder Rah didn’t want to come in! Rat Boy should have warned me! ‘Sorry!’ was all he could think to say as he avoided the ferocity of the woman’s stare. Then a thought struck him. Maybe if I show an interest in her work it might help calm her down. ‘Eh! So what are you studying here, exactly?’ he asked with feigned interest. ‘Nothing,’ was the bald reply. ‘Oh!’ That didn’t work! Tox averted his eyes again. The woman realised Tox had misunderstood her reply and, though still annoyed, decided to correct things. ‘You misunderstand. I study “Nothing.” “Nothing” is what I study, if you take my meaning.’ she said wearily. ‘Oh!’ Tox said again, this time in puzzlement. The woman decided to explain further: ‘Since I was a little girl I have dedicated all my waking hours to trying to do nothing. At first I tried to do nothing in my bedroom at home but there were too many distractions: posters on the walls, interruptions from my family, neighbourhood noises, friends phoning to gossip, et cetera, et cetera.’ Tox had to smother a self-satisfied smile - his ploy of getting the woman distracted was actually working. The woman was starring blankly at the wall of white toys as she imagined scenes from her past. ‘As soon as I was old enough I moved to a cottage on the isolated island of Null and later to a cave in the Gobi Desert. But there was always something to disturb my concentration: the whistling of the wind on a sandy dune, the 71

TOX buzzing of an insect, the hiss of rain, the shapes made by lichen on a rocks…’ Huh? ‘…the inane twitter of a wheatear…’ What? ‘… a slow moving shadow, a tiny fleck on the otherwise total blueness of the sky, something - always something. And it drove me mad. Not literally of course! Haw! Haw!’ This caused Tox’s eyebrows to rise involuntarily for a moment but luckily the woman didn’t see and simply continued without pause. ‘So, I acquired this place and began to customise it to meet the needs of my important, nay essential, research.’ Tox glanced around and felt compelled by his nagging curiosity to interrupt again. ‘Yeah! But what is it?’ ‘It’s a disused airport departure lounge,’ the woman replied matter-of-factly. Of course! Tox sighed silently with the relief of knowing at last what it was. ‘Perfect don’t you think? I thought it would give me a head start. I mean I simply could not count the number of people that told me they spent hours and hours stuck in airports doing absolutely nothing.’ Yeah! I’ve heard people sayin’ that too. ‘But frankly, I think they were pulling my leg, some huge joke at my expense. For when I first tried to work here it was full of all sorts of distractions like computer equipment, shops, desks, chairs, lights, signs and worst of all, noise. So I completely soundproofed the whole place to eradicate noise and then reduced visual distractions by painting everything white, well almost.

72

Dr There is still a bit to do down the end of the mall. Which is what I was busy doing when you barged in here uninvited.’ Oh Brother! Proper nutter alert! Detecting a tone of annoyance rising in her voice again Tox decided to try distracting her again. ‘But doing nothing is simple. You just stop doing things.’ ‘Don’t be facetious! Of course it’s not simple and anybody who had spent a fraction of the time and effort that I have studying the subject, would never display their ignorance with such crass statements.’ Tox didn’t understand the meaning of the words “facetious” and “crass” that the woman used but her tone was indignant and full of hurt. So he felt he kind of knew where she was coming from anyway. ‘What about breathing? What about your heart beating? How simple is it to stop them?’ Tox nodded appreciatively while narrowing his eyebrows to indicate attentiveness as the woman continued. This was a tactic he had perfected in school for pretending to be listening to boring lessons while thinking of useful stuff. The woman continued: ‘Naturally I tried to stop breathing, as this was something I seemed to have some control over. I found that I could last longer when holding a breath in, rather than having exhaled first. Either way my head began to feel very hot and full after a minute or so and, eventually, my control over my muscles restricting my breath would exhaust in a gush of air. Then I realised that by trying to stop breathing I was still doing something, i.e. trying not to breathe.’ Serious nutter alert! No wonder that kid was so scared. The woman glanced at Tox and, despite his glazed eyes, his attentive nodding and a quick faked smile was enough to encourage her to continue.

73

TOX ‘Then I thought that perhaps what I needed to do was to stop thinking. I quickly realised how difficult it was not to get distracted by even the most trivial of things. At one point I believed I was getting good at it - not thinking that is. But then I realised that in order to check whether I was successfully not thinking, I had to think about it and therefore I instantly was. Thinking that is, if you take my meaning.’ This is doing my brain in - but it’s working! She’s calmed right down again. ‘But why do want to do nothin’ in the first place?’ ‘Because everything I do causes something else to happen. It’s dreadful! When I was younger, I noticed that if I did something properly, it made some of my friends feel inadequate, if they could not do it equally well. Whereas If I did something wrong, Mummy would get annoyed.’ Mummy! That’s posh for Mum – but I know what she means. ‘When I said something it caused some people to like me and some others to like me less. Then they would say or do something to affect me for better or for worse.’ I’m not getting this! But she’s crazy for real! I gotta find a way of bringing the conversation around to asking about getting out of here. Before Tox could think of how best to do this, the woman was off again. ‘And just for one to live, so many things have to die. Animals slaughtered to feed me, along with vegetables yanked out of the earth. When I walk about I stand on insects. Even in brushing my teeth, I kill millions of living bacteria.’ With this Tox noticed the woman’s teeth. They were greenish with black sections. ‘So, how could I possibly do anything at all?’ The woman looked down again to catch Tox’s eyes. Tox shrugged then decided to use the pause to his advantage. ‘So, eh, are you alone here?’

74

Dr ‘Not now obviously,’ the woman snapped with a tone of irritation returning to her voice. ‘Not since you barged in.’ ‘Oh! Of course, sorry! Eh! Isn’t there someone else round here - a doctor, maybe?’ ‘What? Ah! Oh that! Ha!’ the woman replied hesitatingly. ‘Eh! No. I mean yes. Eh! I have been referred to by that title – eh! Doctor, I mean. Tox felt his heart sink. This nutty woman was not the image of the doctor that had kept him going up to now. ‘Oh!’ he said unable to hide the disappointment in his voice. ‘It’s an honorary title, you understand - In view of all my diligent research. You see if one were at one of the great universities, Oxford or Cambridge for example, one would no doubt have had a great ceremony with sashes and mortar boards, etc.’ The woman was now looking into space again as she imagined the scene in her mind. ‘But – ahem - here,’ she paused to exhale with a sigh, ‘I had to bestow the doctorate on myself. I thought about it long and hard of course and, as I was totally alone here, I eventually concluded that there could be no harm in it, so I did it, with just a little ceremony to mark the special occasion.’ ‘But Rah said there was a Doctor Gurrel here,’ Tox protested with a puzzled expression. ‘That’s me!’ the woman exclaimed with a broad grin that exposed her expanse of green and black teeth. ‘You!’ Tox said almost sick with disappointment. ‘Oh I was a girl back then. It was a bit of a whim but it does have a ring to it. Don’t you think? ‘Doctor Girl’ ‘ she said rolling the last ‘r’ and cocking her head slightly to indicate self-pride and mock dignity. Tox had had enough. 75

TOX ‘Look! Can you help me? I only came here to find my way out. Do you know the way?’ ‘Out!’ Dr Girl sneered. ‘That is my purpose here - to find the way out. That is what I do. That is what this place is all about. And isn’t it so fortuitous that you have arrived at this point. I seem to have misplaced my former assistantin-waiting. You haven’t seen her have you by any chance – a little female Wysiwiian?’ Tox shook his head to avoid the lie being detectable in his voice. ‘Never mind. She wasn’t of much use anyway, a trifle uncooperative, you understand. But I’m sure a brave little boy like you will be much more complimentary to the completion of my essential work.’ ‘No! I mean I gotta go. Sorry and all that but if you will just show me the way I’ll be real quiet and all.’ Tox went to move assertively past Dr Girl towards the door hidden by the covering of white furry toys tacked to it. ‘You’re going nowhere!’ she snarled. Then dropping the paint-roller she caught hold of the shoulder of Tox’s jacket and with surprising strength, she flung him across the room. A mound of soft toys cushioned Tox’s landing but he was still winded. As he sat there in shock trying to assess whether there was any damage Dr Girl whispered aggressively - ‘Ignorant boy! You will learn!’ She then turned and pointed with her left hand. The door swung open and before Tox could think to react, she had bent to snatch up her paint-roller and disappeared through the gap. The door closed quickly behind her. Tox just sat where he had fallen. Great! What now?

76

T-K-Q

8 T-K-Q The local radio station had first reported that a ten-year-old boy was missing the night before. A reporter had been monitoring police radio frequencies and gathered from the interchanges that a child was missing. She went to the police station to investigate. The police initially refused to give her any information but she persisted, implying that she had some insider source. Eventually the police press office considered that it could be helpful if the general public were also looking out for the missing O’Shea boy so they released description details. By morning regional TV was showing a grainy blowup of his photograph in their local news slot. None of SisR’s crew had seen the broadcast before they left their various homes to meet up. News is so dumb.

T-K-Q was almost finished his Organo Pops when he dropped the spoon with a clatter against the bowl. He had been casually answering Dad’s questions about school when he recognised the photo of Tox on the small TV in a corner of the kitchen. T-K-Q felt his stomach tighten and twist. ‘What did you do that for?’ Dad asked. T-K-Q couldn’t answer. Now Mum had turned round from the cooker. ‘What’s the matter, you look very grey?’

77

TOX T-K-Q felt he was going to be sick. He pushed his chair back from the table, with the nauseating sound of wood on tiles and rushed to the kitchen sink. His undigested breakfast reappeared with a whoosh and involuntary grunt. Mum crossed the room to him, drying her hands, her voice full of concern. ‘Tarique, what’s wrong? Are you OK?’ ‘Ugh!’ was all T-K-Q could utter. By now both Dad and Mum were standing over him. T-K-Q’s stomach twisted again and he retched. ‘You put him back to bed and I’ll phone the doctor,’ Mum directed Dad. T-K-Q’s head was spinning. What’s happened? Oh my God! I should do somethin’ - but what? What did they do to him? Should I say somethin’? - To Dad? - Or Mum? - tell them about the St Wilson’s Crew? But how do I explain my part? And what if it isn’t down to them? They’ll kill me! T-K-Q was in a panic, as he remembered how scary the St Wilson’s Crew had been at school the day before. He retched again. Dad started to move him towards his bedroom with a hand placed gently on his shoulder. T-K-Q’s stomach twisted again and he bent over with the pain. I need time - time to think what to do. Dad picked him up and carried him the rest of the way to the bedroom. Once there he placed his son on the bed and pulled the duvet up to his neck. Now the room was spiralling. Dad wiped T-K-Q’s mouth with some tissues from the bedside table. ‘How do you feel now?’ ‘Ugh!’ ‘Can you think what might have making you feel like this? Did you eat anything odd yesterday?’ 78

T-K-Q ‘No,’ T-K-Q replied feebly. After a while Dad said he had to go to work. ‘I’ll phone later, after the doctor has been.’ Following a muffled conversation full of concerned tones, T-K-Q heard Mum say goodbye to Dad. Shortly after that Mum was sat on the side of his bed running her fingers softly through his hair. ‘I’ve phoned the surgery and a doctor will be out as soon as they can.’ Mum insisted T-K-Q got undressed and into his pyjamas again. She gently assisted him to do this, and then resumed stroking his hair. T-K-Q found this soothing but reminded himself he had to think. I gotta think what’s best to do, what’s best to help Tox. ‘I need to sleep Mum,’ he said feebly. Mum looked concerned and hesitated. Did I read somewhere that you shouldn’t let children sleep when they are ill like this? Maybe it was just if they had a fall. I’m not sure. Eventually she nodded silently. T-K-Q shut his eyes. After a few minutes Mum left his bedroom. What’s happened to Tox? T-K-Q reran their last conversation from the day before in his mind. Should I tell Mum? Should I tell her to call the helmets? I still got his school stuff – what should I do with that? What if they’ve murdered him? Will they do me too ‘cause I know too much? What should I do? Tox’d know. Tox’d know what to do. Tox is smart. Tox always knows what to do. But that’s the problem. Tox ain’t here. Somethin’ real bad’s happened, init? What should I do? Maybe phone him? Mum had put T-K-Q’s clothes on the pink chair in the far corner of the room. He would have to get up to get his mopho.

79

TOX Ugh! I feel real bad – like dyin’ –but I got to do it - gotta force myself to get up and make the call. He lifted his head off the pillow but his stomach began to twist again so he dropped back down. He waited a few minutes, breathing heavily, then he tried again. This time it was easier. He managed to get upright and cross the room. He felt in the pocket of his trousers for his mopho. As he took it out he noticed it felt funny. He looked at it. It’s different somehow. The colours are different or something. He found Tox’s number and called. Then he was distracted by a sound like a small stone hitting his bedroom window. T-K-Q froze. After a short interval there was similar sound. T-K-Q went to the window and cautiously peeled back the edge of the curtain. Directly down below there was a tramp looking straight up at him. The tramp gesticulated with his arm for T-K-Q to come down. T-K-Q felt a shiver run through his body. He shook his head and mouthed a silent ‘no,’ as he reflexively pulled back from the glass of the window. He wanted to drop the curtain back and pull away completely but he couldn’t. There’s something familiar about him. That hooded Celtic sweatshirt… Then he caught the tramp’s eyes looking up at him from under the rim of the hood. It’s Tox! ‘Tox!’ T-K-Q tried to open the window but he couldn’t. It wouldn’t pull up. He reached up to where the clasp should be but it wasn’t there. Suddenly Tox was beside him in the bedroom. It’s Tox - but he don’t look right. Tox looked weak and pale. His mouth was moving but T-K-Q couldn’t hear anything. Instead he heard two sets of footsteps coming along the landing 80

T-K-Q towards his room. Tox’s eyes looked full of panic, something T-K-Q had never seen before. Tox’s mouth moved again. This time T-K-Q made out faint and distant words: ‘help me! T-K-Q please help me!’ The bedroom door opened. Tox vanished. Mum came in with Dr Bibi. T-KQ’s eyes felt very heavy as he turned his head slightly to watch them enter. He was lying in bed. It was some kind of dream. Dr Bibi was full of that cheering bedside chat that doctors reserve for dealing with children. ‘So young man, feeling a little under the weather are we?’ She then asked a similar set of questions to those Dad had asked earlier. ‘Have you eaten anything unusual in the last few days? Anything that didn’t taste as it should? Is there anybody else at school who has been unwell recently?’ T-K-Q replied each time with a shake of his head. Dr Bibi then placed a thermometer under his right armpit, prodded him about the stomach and back, looked in his eyes and at his tongue before listening to his chest with a cold stethoscope. Finally, having retrieved the thermometer, she delivered her diagnosis, while still examining it. ‘It’s probably just a viral infection in his stomach, there are a lot of them about at this time of year. Should be up and about in a few days. If it gets any worse you can contact my surgery again.’ Mum kept nodding as they left the room with Dr Bibi listing things that Mum could try. But T-K-Q was feeling better already now he knew he wasn’t going to die. As soon as the door closed T-K-Q was out of bed. This time he found his mopho for real and thumbed in a call to Tox. It went straight to message. Where is he? What’s happened to him?

81

TOX At the edge of his hearing T-K-Q remained aware of the conversation between Mum and Dr Bibi as it receded to the front door. He couldn’t make out most of what was said but he did make out Mum’s final words. ‘Goodbye Doctor and thank you very much for coming out at such short notice.’ T-K-Q had expected shortly after that to hear the front door close and mute the street noises again but it didn’t. Now there was another voice, a male with a gentle but serious tone. Mum sounded anxious. ‘Yes he is but … he is ill - he’s in bed. That was the doctor just leaving. I ….’. T-K-Q’s hearing was on peak concentration trying to pick out conversation. ‘A ten year old boy is missing and Tarique is apparently his best friend,’ the male voice pressed more urgently. ‘It may be vital we speak with your son.’ ‘But Tarique never mentioned anyone called Terence,’ Mum protested with increasing anxiety. Seconds later T-K-Q could hear several sets of heavy footsteps coming along the hallway towards his bedroom. He dashed back across the room and leapt into bed pulling the duvet up to his nose. Chef it’s the helmets. What do I do? What do I say? The sizzle of adrenaline rushed through his body as the bedroom door began to open. ‘Tarique!’ Mum cleared her throat but her voice was shaky. ‘There are some police officers here who want to talk to you about someone from your school called Terence. You don’t know anyone called Terence, do you?’ T-K-Q stuck his head out from under the covers. ‘Uh? What?’ he said feigning sleepiness.

82

T-K-Q There were two helmets with Mum, a helmet and a policetess. Both were in full uniform. The glaring yellow of their high visibility jackets jarred against the red and green pattern of the wallpaper behind them. T-K-Q tried to stare straight ahead to give the impression that he was too sick and weak to give eye contact, in the vain hope they might leave him alone. The helmet was clearly in a hurry and was not going to accommodate T-K-Q’s pretending. He produced a copy of a photograph of Tox and put it close to T-K-Q’s face. ‘Do you know this boy?’ T-K-Q was frightened but nodded. ‘It’s Tox,’ he said feebly. ‘Tox!’ Mum interjected hurriedly and defensively. ‘See? I told you ….’ The helmet turned and interrupted her. ‘It’s a nickname. We heard it earlier. They all have nicknames. Your son’s is ‘Teacake’, which is why it took us so long to trace him.’ Mum started to cry. ‘Teacake!’ she said to herself for no good reason. The helmet ignored her and turned back to T-K-Q. ‘When did you last see Tox?’ ‘Yesterday at school.’ ‘What time?’ ‘Afternoon break.’ ‘You weren’t with him after school?’ ‘Eh! …. no!’ T-K-Q was trying to think how much he should say. I shouldn’t say nothin’ ‘bout Tox’s business, ‘cos then… But the helmet’s questions came at him too fast. ‘When did you last speak to him?’ 83

TOX ‘Eh! A while after school finished.’ ‘Why did you not meet up after school?’ T-K-Q couldn’t think fast enough to lie or even to decide whether to lie. ‘Eh! ‘cause they were after him and we had to be his eyes,’ he blurted out. ‘Oh My God!’ Mum exclaimed in horror and turned away sobbing. The policetess put her hand on Mum’s shoulder to comfort her while the helmet continued his questioning in an even more serious tone. ‘Who was after Terence…er Tox?’ ‘St Wilson’s.’ ‘Who?’ ‘Eh! The St Wilson’s Crew.’ ‘From the St Wilson’s School in Downhill?’ the helmet asked with slight surprise. T-K-Q nodded. ‘Why? Why were they after Terence …eh!...Tox?’ ‘Something to do with his business’ T-K-Q blurted out, still feeling that he shouldn’t. He immediately felt a sense of relief. He felt lighter. At last it was out, as if someone had just lifted a heavy stone off his chest. ‘Business? What sort of business?’ The helmet persisted pulling his eyebrows together in disbelief that a ten year old would have some sort of business. All three adults stood aghast as T-K-Q sat up and detailed Tox’s antibullying business. When T-K-Q finished the helmet and policetess looked at each other and shook their heads. Then the helmet asked T-K-Q where Tox was when they last spoke but T-K-Q had no idea. ‘Tox never said. He had to cut me out ‘cause he had had an incoming from Jaap.’ Immediately on hearing Jaap’s name the policetess, who had been taking notes, shuffled back through the pages of her notebook. 84

T-K-Q ‘Jaap? Who is this Jaap?’ The helmet asked but before T-K-Q could answer the policetess interrupted. ‘Jaap Hammond, we have him already. He’s the boy who had his phone stolen yesterday at the school gate.’ The helmet grunted then inquired about Jaap’s relationship with Tox. Finally the policetess snapped her notebook closed. She produced a card from the breast pocket of her tunic and gave it to T-K-Q and asked that he contact them immediately, using the number on the card if he thought of anything else or had any contact from “Terence” or anyone else for that matter. She then thanked Mum for her co-operation. Mum showed them noisily out of T-K-Q’s bedroom. The three continued to talk on the landing in not-hushed-enough tones so T-K-Q heard the discussion through the closed door. ‘We may need Tarique to come to St Wilson’s school so that he can try and identify the boys who were waiting for Terence outside the school gates yesterday.’ Mum was distraught. ‘But Tarique is ill. Dr Bibi said so. I will have to phone his father.’ Good on ya Mum. Having to go into the cauldron of St Wilson’s, even with an escort of helmets, and the consequences of squealing on SisR, did not bear thinking about. ‘This small boy’s life may depend on how quickly we can find him,’ the policetess said firmly, as the voices moved away down the corridor. This made T-K-Q feel guilty. You’re selfish and a coward. He ducked his head back under his duvet to hide from his shame.

85

TOX

9 Ria

‘Make the defendant stand.’ And the Helmet will grab her by the arm - hard - and make her stand up. ‘Do you the defendant, understand the nature and seriousness of the charges against you?’ And she’ll nod and the helmet will nudge her to say she has to answer out loud and then the judge will turn to me in the witness box and…. ‘No, your honour, I don’t need no special treatment or to give evidence by cctv – I want to see her face – specially when the jury says ‘guilty’ and then ….’ Suddenly the door swung open interrupting Tox’s fantasy. The girl that Tox had briefly met earlier at the circle of desks, appeared in the gap. A moment later Dr Girl appeared behind her and pushed her into the room. Then the door swung silently closed. The girl and Tox stared silently at each other, she standing in the middle of the room, Tox reclining on the bank of cuddly toys. She looks weird – sick even. The greyness in the girl’s complexion was contrasted by the fact that her eyebrows and hair had been painted white. ‘What now?’ Tox eventually asked. ‘We wait.’ 86

Ria ‘For what?’ ‘Don’t know – experiments?’ ‘What sort of experiments?’ ‘Don’t know – she just said I will assist her experimental work.’ ‘Why don’t you know? How long have you been here then?’ ‘I don’t know – a long time – I think.’ ‘What do you mean you don’t know? How can you not know?’ ‘I don’t know. How long have you been here?’ the girl parried. ‘Eh….’ Tox began. Chef! I don’t know either. ‘Eh!.... So these experiments – will she experiment on ….us?’ ‘I don’t know. She ain’t started yet. She’s got to finish the painting first. She’s been doing it since I arrived. She made me help her but I ran away – I tried to find my way back – but it’s closed – gone. She says it’s one-way only – like time – I can’t go back.’ Tears began to flow down the girl’s cheeks. Tox felt obliged to offer comfort. ‘Look there are two of us now, init? We’ll work somethin’ out. We’ll get out of this together. Yeah?’ Tox stood up and almost went to touch the girl but decided against it. She was noticeably taller and skinnier than he was. She looks real unwell. ‘Look – what’s your name?’ ‘Ria – Ria Line,’ she sobbed. ‘Look Ria – eh my name’s Tox – Look we’ll sort it – right?’ Tox’s positiveness seemed to have no effect. They stood there in silence.

87

TOX The door opened to reveal a stern faced Dr Girl. Before Tox could think of something to do she had thrown something into the room. Then the door closed again. Tox bent down to see what it was. It’s a box of something. Tox turned it over to read what it was but the cellophane wrapping had been crudely painted over. Tox began to tear it open. ‘I think it’s meant to be food,’ Ria said. ‘Yeah – it’s chocolates.’ Tox felt hungry suddenly. He eagerly opened the box. ‘Ugh! They’re old. They’ve gone white with age. Is this all she feeds you?’ ‘It’s not food.’ ‘Well maybe not mingin like this - but chocolate is food.’ ‘Not to me.’ ‘No? What do you eat then? Soup? Air?’ ‘No – don’t eat much.’ How'd you keep alive then?’ ‘Gis.’ ‘What’s that?’ ‘It’s what we get from the Falsesiders – you’re not from the Falseside are you?’ ‘No! No - definitely not. I’m from Oldtown - up above. Where are you from then?’ ‘Wysiwii.’ ‘Where?’ ‘Wysiwii.’ ‘Never heard of it. Where’s that then?’ 88

Ria ‘ Well I came in …. that way – through a portal.’ Ria pointed uncertainly towards her left. Tox shook his head and looked puzzled. Better leave it. ‘So this “gis” stuff….. eh … what’ll happen if you don’t get none?’ Tox asked more out of needing something to say than genuine curiosity. ‘I think I’ll die – eventually. They did.’ Ria pointed to the pile of toys behind Tox. ‘What the toys?’ ‘No.’ Ria stepped past Tox and pulled away a large panda, an eeyore, a couple of furby’s and several other toys. Directly beneath where Tox had been reclining not long before, there was a pile of bones and rags. Tox stepped back in horror. ‘Ugh! That’s mingin!’ ‘What? Did you know them?’ ‘No! No! I mean that’s… gross. I’m …. I‘m just a kid – I.. I shouldn’t have to see things like this! This is …. This is…… Look! We’re gonna have to get out of here. We gotta get away – got to!’ Tox was still staring wide-eyed at the pile of bones. ‘This is serious, Man! We gotta make a plan.’ Ria just nodded. Tox looked around the room. There were no windows and the only entrance was the door that Dr Girl used. Like all the other surfaces, the ceiling was covered by the painted furry toys that were tacked to it. The right hand corner of the room seemed to have a lot more toys piled in it than elsewhere. Half afraid of what he was going to find Tox pulled away some of these. His efforts partially uncovered an office desk. Tox explored further sweeping loose toys away to both sides. 89

TOX Maybe there’s a PC that works. There wasn’t. Now what? He turned to Ria. ‘Look, she’s got a remote or somethin’ for opening the doors. We gotta get hold of that.’ Ria nodded. Tox looked up at the ceiling again. He remembered something he’d seen in ‘Jammie Master Spy.’ ‘Look, sometimes you can push up panels in ceilings – especially in offices like this. If I can just get up there – I can go along the top then find a way down outside and … and … find where she is. She has to put the remote down sometime – when she’s painting maybe.’ Ria shook her head and indicated with her hand that Dr Girl placed the device in the breast pocket of her overalls. ‘Pocket.’ Tox widened his mouth in disappointment. ‘Look we gotta try somethin’. We can’t just stay here.’ He glanced back at the bones then turned back to the partially revealed desk. ‘Help me up.’ Tox started to try and scramble up onto the desk. Ria came over and pushed him weakly from behind. It didn’t help much but Tox still managed to get up and onto his feet. ‘Now pass me up more toys – big ones – like that panda.’ Ria obeyed and Tox pressed them into the corner. When he had piled the toys as high as he could reach, he stood and looked at it. It looked like some weird totem pole. Hmm! It don’t look too steady – but I gotta give it a go. 90

Ria He looked down at Ria, who was looking up at him with her large dark eyes. She looked much further down already than he had expected. ‘Ok. Here goes!’ Tox turned and started his assault on the toy-face. Footholds on the giant panda gave him a good start. Good move that, he congratulated himself. He felt some slippage and froze in fright but thankfully, after a moment, things stabilised and he resumed his ascent. His foot caught on the arms of the Dino but he didn’t risk trying to shake it off. He decided to hurry. He scrambled further up aware of even the slightest shift beneath him. He looked up. If I stretch I can reach it. Not daring to look down, he straightened out and pushed gently on the matted fur of a Jacko-de-chimp directly over his head. To his delight it moved upwards. The straight line of a ceiling panel was revealed. ‘Yes!’ He pushed further and dark triangles opened on each side. Tox felt the toys beneath him begin to avalanche. In a panic he grabbed and caught the rim in the ceiling that had supported the panel. As all support fell away beneath him he snapped his left hand across to join his right. He looked down. Way below an opened-mouthed Ria was staring up at his flailing legs. Then to his horror, the door swung open behind Ria. Dr Girl stormed in and immediately focused on the dangling Tox. ‘What do you…?’ she started, as she crossed the room and made a grab for Tox’s legs. In panic Tox tried to haul himself upwards to escape through the ceiling while kicking out at Dr Girl. Chef! My arms ain’t strong enough! In the attempt to do two things at once Tox lost his grip. ‘Argh!’ 91

TOX He fell down on the toys massed on the top of the desk. To his further horror the spring in the toys bounced him into the air again, this time directly towards Dr Girl. Tox saw the shocked look of disbelief on her face as his new trajectory caused him to hit her feet-first on her shoulders. Dr Girl fell backwards and Tox tumbled over her head and into a cushion of toys. Before he had time to assess himself for injuries Ria’s wan face filled his vision. ‘Quickly! I have it!’ ‘Huh?’ Ria held something right in front of Tox’s eyes. It’s the remote! Excellent! Tox rolled towards the open door, then scrambled on to his feet. Ria was ahead of him and already outside in the whiteness of the mall. As Tox fell out to join her she held out the remote. Its tip flashed red then the door closed behind them leaving Dr Girl trapped in her own makeshift prison. ‘Come on!’ Tox ordered as he turned to run back the way Dr Girl had lead him earlier. ‘But we don’t need to. She’s locked in and I have this.’ ‘She might escape.’ ‘How?’ ‘The same way we - I was going to – through the ceiling.’ The look on Ria’s face said that this was not what she had wanted to hear. The pair hurried along the mall. Ria used the remote to open the big sliding doors at the end. I wish she’d give that to me’ Tox thought, I’d have pressed it sooner and we wouldn’t have to slow down. They were back in the massive waiting room. They ran straight across. The pair passed the circle of enquiry desks in the middle. Ahead they could see a large set of sliding doors. 92

Ria ‘That’s gotta be the way out!’ They made straight for them. As they reached the sliding doors they slowed a little. Ria pointed the remote but nothing happened. ‘Press it!’ ‘I am.’ ‘Press it again!’ ‘I am but nothing’s happening.’ ‘Give it here!’ Tox grabbed it and examined it quickly. It had an alphabetical and number pad and a screen like a mopho but it had one larger button in the middle marked OPEN/CLOSE. Tox pointed and pressed hard. Nothing happened. ‘Chef!’ He went right up to the doors. All the glass panels were impossible to see through because of the thick coats of white paint. Tox leaned into the nearest door panel with all his weight. The door didn’t budge. ‘Chef! Chef! Chef and Chef again!’ Tox stuck his ear to the glass of the door. Maybe there’s someone out there we can call for help. He listened hard but heard nothing. He bashed the glass a couple of times in frustration but only hurt his hand. What now? ‘Which way did you come in?’ Ria asked. Tox turned and pointed towards the left. ‘Over there. What about you?’ ‘I’ve already tried there. It’s gone.’ ‘What do you mean ‘gone’?’ ‘It’s not there any more. It’s – It’s blanked out – gone! We’ll have to try yours.’ 93

TOX Tox nodded. The pair headed off to the left. They were about half the distance round towards their destination when the sliding doors to the mall parted. They ducked down between the first and second rows of seats. Their hearts were thumping. Tox dug his bottom teeth into his lip. Chef! Tox tapped Ria on the shoulder and made a crawling gesture with his fingers on the white floor. She nodded. Silently Tox led off. They crawled on hands and knees between the two rows of seats. At the end of the row, they scurried across the exposed aisle to the next set of seats and did the same again. On reaching the end of the row of seats nearest to the door through which Tox had entered the nightmare place, he was alarmed to see that the exposed gap they were going to have to cross was much wider than he remembered. Out of necessity he cautiously stuck his eyes up over the back of one of the seats. Dr Girl was nowhere to be seen but this relaxed him none. He decided to make a dash for it. He stood up to run but instantly saw Dr Girl appear from behind the circle of desks in the centre. He dropped down again and pulled Ria down. They sat on the floor in panic, backs stiff against the back of a seat. Did she see us? They waited staring anxiously into each other’s eyes. I’ll have to look again. Tox turned and once more slowly peeked above the back of the seat. Dr Girl was searching between the rows of seats on the far side of the centre circle. She looked furious. Sharp jerking of her head from side to side had loosened several strands of her matted hair from the hold of her hair-band and they swung left and right like crazy snakes. Chef! Only a matter of time before she finds us. No choice - gotta make a run for it. 94

Ria He signalled this to Ria. Ria nodded, her mouth tight with the tension. Twice Tox tried to lead off but his fear held him back. Finally he gave himself a countdown of three and, after an extra long gap between one and go, he shut his eyes leapt to his feet and ran as fast as he could. Ria followed. Despite the carpeted floor, their footfalls sounded like a stampede of wildebeest hooves. As they ran Tox raised the remote and pressed. To his immense relief the sliding door-panels parted. Tox got there first but there was something wrong. Where’s the blue carpet? Where’s the lighting? Too late to stop he crashed against the hard whiteness exposed by the opening of the sliding door panels. As he fell back stunned he saw Ria run past him and disappear straight into the whiteness. Tox was confused. How did she do that? It was like she jumped into a cliff of chalk! Tox recovered and stood up. He reached out to check out the whiteness. It was solid. But Ria went through - how? Then, without warning she was on him. Dr Girl grabbed his arm tightly, snatched the remote, pressed for the doors to close and then swung Tox round to face her. Tox went to shout at her to leave him alone, but Dr Girl anticipated this and slapped her hand over his mouth. She bent down and stuck her face right up to his. ‘Shut it!’ she mouthed silently but forcefully. When Dr Girl removed her hand Tox realised that she had stuck a sticky label over his mouth. It stung his lips when he tried to move them. Dr Girl moved the tight grip she had on Tox’s arm, along to his wrist. With her other hand she reached into the pocket in the breast of her paint-blotched overall and produced a felt-tipped pen. She pulled Tox’s hand open and wrote on his palm. It tickled but Dr Girl’s grip was much too strong for Tox to escape. When she had finished writing she turned his hand and pushed it down in front of his face. Tox read what it said: 95

TOX NO WAY – LIKE YESTERDAY. Dr Girl saw Tox narrow his eyes in puzzlement. She pulled his hand towards her again and this time wrote hurriedly on the back of it. Again she forced the finished script before Tox’s face for him to read. LIKE TIME – NO BACKWARDS Dr Girl then straightened her tight lips and turned her head to the side in a sarcastic mime of ‘Now do you understand?’ Tox’s eyes looked wistfully back at the tightly sealed door. Next he was jerked forward. Dr Girl was off up the room heading away from the door and still with a tight grip of Tox’s wrist. He was forced to trot along like a naughty toddler as Dr Girl made no allowance for the big difference in their relative heights. After a few seconds, Dr Girl became aware of the noise that Tox's rapidly moving feet were making as they pounded uncontrollably on the floor. She stopped suddenly and without ceremony bent down and yanked Tox off the ground. She then continued on her way with Tox dangling uncomfortably under her right arm. Tox kicked his feet in the air in protest at the affront to his dignity but quickly decided this risked him being dropped on his head, so he stopped and instead caught hold of Dr Girl’s paint-stained overall for security. As they passed a point parallel to the centre of the room Tox began to feel sick due to the pressure of all his weight resting on his stomach where it met with Dr Girl’s arm. Dr Girl showed no sign of stopping. She strode on towards the far end of the room where Tox had not been before. As they neared the far end Tox could better make out the shapes he had seen earlier. There were the huge curved discs like TV receivers. At the centre of each of these was a protuberance. Tox recognised these as microphones from his experiences in the STEWDEEYO! back in school. Each of these was aimed at a slightly different angle back along the room in the direction from which Dr Girl was taking him.

96

Ria At the end of the room there also seemed to be lots of equipment some resting on tables or simply stood on the floor and of course, all painted white. Dr Girl took Tox round the back of these and made her way towards a door in middle of the back wall. Without slowing she walked straight at it. Tox flinched in anticipation of the impact but the door was constructed of two halves of flexible see-through plastic, which bent and allowed them through with little more resistance than pushing through long grass. Before Tox could take in his new surroundings Dr Girl deposited him roughly down on to a hard white floor. She then mouthed: ‘and don’t come back. Ever!’ before turning on her heels and pushing her way back through the pliable doors. Tox sat on the floor, knees bent, trying to gather his thoughts together. Once again he was in some sort of featureless white corridor, his eyes unable to make out any detail. What now? he thought with a shudder. Well, I can’t go back through there, that’s for sure! No matter where this passage goes I’ll have to take it. Maybe this is where Ria got in. No – she said it was gone – blanked out - like the way I came in. But maybe I can still get through her way in, the way she got through the way I came in but couldn’t get back. Aw, this is doin’ my head in. I’m too tired. But I can’t just stay here. With great effort he forced himself to climb stiffly to his feet. With minimum enthusiasm he began to shuffle off away from the door. After about twenty paces the corridor became rapidly narrower and lower. Another twenty paces and he had to bend down to proceed. Ten paces later and it was an impassable dead-end. Tox felt tears begin to well in his eyes again. I’m too tired for this. What I really need is some help. Why is this happening to me? No answers came, just the unrelenting whiteness crowding in all around him. It’s not fair! 97

TOX He started to get angry again. This is stupid. I can’t stay here. So why did she bring me here if I can’t get out this way? I’ll have to go back. I’ll confront the crazy woman if I have to make her help me. After all she is an adult and I am just a kid. Adults are supposed to help kids. Full of this newfound assertiveness from his anger, Tox marched back to the plastic doors. But just as he went to push through his courage deserted him as he remembered how angry Dr Girl had been with him. Mum’s often said: ‘You must be careful. Some adults hurt kids.’ And this one’s proper crazy. Tox rubbed his arm where she had grabbed it. She’s a lot stronger than me and all. He pictured the pile of bones that Ria had shown him. She might… well who knows what she might do. Tox moved his face right up to the crack between the two sides of the door and put his right eye to the gap. Ugh? A gentle breeze blew against his pupil and gave him a slight start. He looked again. Dr Girl was nowhere insight. Then something caught his attention. It was movement on the equipment in front of him. Tox saw that several of the metal boxes nearest to where he was, were fitted with reels of tape which were rotating slowly. Others had two lines of LEDs that flickered green occasionally. It’s recording equipment – lots of it - and some of it’s real old fashioned. Suddenly Dr Girl appeared on the edge of his vision. Tox leapt back. Seconds later he could see her image distorted through the plastic of the door. She appeared to be engrossed, moving from one piece of equipment to another, checking the dials and levels and adjusting knobs. 98

Ria What’s the nutty professor doing now? She hadn’t seen him. She moved off along the line of machines to Tox’s left. Tox pressed the door out a little again. Dr Girl was now out the other side of the bank of recorders. She was adjusting the angle of a microphone that was located in the centre of one of the large discs Tox had noticed earlier. Moments later she came back and tweaked several knobs on the recorders. Suddenly Tox realised what she was trying to do. She’s trying to catch the noises and echoes out of the air. She’s trying to trap them in the machines! Can you do that? Is it possible? Is this how things work? Or is this just another part of her madness? Tox really did feel scared of her. He sat down on the floor, afraid to risk being caught. He began to feel very sorry for himself and permitted himself to start sobbing quietly for his great sense of hopelessness.

99

TOX

10 St Wilson’s

SisR was finishing the last few fries of his lunch so he resented being interrupted by Pinki. ‘What?’ He wrinkled up his face and hunched his shoulders as Pinki insisted on whispering what he had to say directly into his right ear. ‘We got big trouble SisR.’ ‘What?’ SisR’s tone was full of irritation. He pulled his head away and frowned his annoyance at Pinki. Pinki ignored SisR’s body language - normally a very rash thing to do but Pinki felt confident in the power of the message he had to convey. ‘It’s that punk – little Business Man.’ Pinki paused for dramatic effect. ‘What about him?’ ‘He’s on TV.’ ‘What?’

100

St Wilson’s SisR screwed up his eye in puzzled disbelief. Pinki suppressed a smile of smug satisfaction and continued breathlessly. ‘The little punk’s picture is all over the news on the TV. He’s gone missing.’ SisR’s face loosened with shock. ‘They’re callin’ him Trance or something’ but it’s him for definite. He’s been missing since yesterday.’ Pinki was fully proud that he had managed to be the first to tell SisR. ‘The TV said he never came home from school yesterday. There’s a massive search goin’ down.’ Chef! SisR thought. We’ll get the blame for this. That’s what all them helmets were doin’ outside the punk’s school. What if the punk’s dead? Chef! Chef! Chef!’ SisR needed time to think. ‘Come on!’ he commanded without bothering to look at Pinki. SisR pushed his chair back noisily from the canteen table and strode off at a strong pace. He headed straight for the Crew’s hangin’ spot at the furthest corner of the school playground. The rest of the Crew was there already and, as the purpose of hanging there was so that you could spot everybody coming across the open space of the tarmac play area, they saw SisR coming with the chubby Pinki trotting behind. As the pair arrived the rest of the Crew began the elaborated ritual greeting. SisR waved away the high-fives offered by Rasper and Choker. ‘Not now! We got big trouble.’ The Crew listened in reverent silence as SisR explained. SisR’s description of gaol and describing how they would probably be done for murder, all made chilling sense. ‘We’re in deep - no question.’ The solemn nodding heads showed all agreed. There was also total agreement that they couldn’t risk staying in school for the afternoon. Shocked 101

TOX wan faces nodded silent agreement when SisR said they should head immediately for the Crew Den to work on a plan. As they turned to leave Little Ravi cleared his throat. ‘Eh!’ Nine pairs of stern eyes instantly turned on him. ‘What?’ SisR demanded clearly annoyed at being halted. ‘Eh! Maybe I better stay and like meet you up later.’ ‘Why?’ ‘My brother, Raj, what if he misses me at break? He could cause trouble, init?’ SisR remembered that Ravi had said something about his older brother also going to St Wilson’s. ‘If he doesn’t see me at afternoon break, he’ll squeal to our Mum and we could have swarms of helmets on us sooner.’ ‘Whatever,’ SisR said dismissively. It didn’t make total sense to him but he didn’t have time to think it through right then. He turned sharply away. Some of the Crew shook their heads disapprovingly before turning to follow, leaving Ravi standing alone on the edge of the expanse of black tarmac, feeling very small and very ostracised. Having watched the last of the Crew climb the perimeter wall, Ravi returned to the school buildings, eyes staring blankly at the ground, as he tried to comprehend the enormity of the trouble they were in. Mrs. Sackville-West’s English lesson was no more boring than normal but Ravi was paying even less attention than usual. It was a time of crisis for the Crew and he wanted – needed - and should be with them. He formulated a plan, as Mrs. Sackville-West’s voice droned on in the background like a bee in a milk-bottle.

102

St Wilson’s I’ll have to get myself noticed by Raj real early at break, then disappear quietly. But how? Suddenly the door to the classroom swung open. Mrs. Sackville-West stopped mid-sentence. All faces in the room picked up and stared as the headmistress Mrs. Wolfe walked purposefully into the room. Following immediately behind her was a helmet in full uniform. ‘Don’t anybody move,’ Mrs. Wolfe ordered dramatically. She stopped midwhite-board and faced the class. ‘The police have reason to believe that pupils from St Wilson’s may be able to assist them in their efforts to locate the whereabouts of a missing boy, the news of whose disappearance has been widely broadcast in the media, i.e. the television and radio,’ she announced in a theatrical voice. Mrs. Wolfe never used a few words when many would do. As the other pupils tried to digest meaning from her sentence, Ravi’s eyes bulged and his heart sank into his stomach as he saw a policetess follow into the classroom with her hand resting gently on the shoulder of a scared looking kid. Chef! It‘s the kid from yesterday – the one who’s mopho SisR used in the hunt for Little Business Man. I’m done for! Ravi had been in the half of the Crew that had persuaded Jaap to swap his mopho for protection from imminent danger. Ravi wanted to leap up from behind his desk and make a run for it but he didn’t think he could make the open door before being stopped. Where being at the back of the classroom was usually an advantage – like being able to skip paying too much attention – it was suddenly a major snag. Somehow he resisted the urge to run and took to slumping down in his seat as inconspicuously as his terror permitted him to do. With the four adults silently observing from the space at the front of the classroom, Jaap started walking slowly down between the first two rows of desks. Ravi struggled to control his legs from wanting to tangle nervously

103

TOX around each other as Jaap came down his row. He grasped his hands tightly onto his chair to stop the shakes and felt an urgent need to go to the toilet. Perhaps I could use that as an excuse - too late! Jaap was almost at Ravi’s desk. As Jaap reached him he slowed, almost like in slow motion. Ravi focused hard on the top of his desk. He tried to concentrate on the pattern made by the grain in the wood. He could feel Jaap’s eyes burning into him as he struggled to control the nervous twitch in his own eye. For God’s sake get it over with. Ravi was terrified of cracking under the pressure. Then, after what seemed an eternity, Lotts Scully coughed nervously in the row behind where Jaap was stood. Jaap turned and looked at her and when he turned back again he had moved passed Ravi’s desk. After studying the last kid at top of the row, Jaap turned to the policetess and shook his head. Then after an exchange of disappointed smiles, Jaap escorted by all the adults, including Mrs. SackvilleWest, left the classroom with rhythm-less clatter of heels. As the door clicked shut behind them, all the kids began to speak at once. Except Ravi that is, who nearly collapsed with relief. Why didn’t he recognise me? Maybe it’s ‘cause the rest of the Crew didn’t let me do much yesterday, when we conscripted his mopho. Normally Ravi would resent the fact that his role had been marginalised but for once he was grateful. Still the main thing is he didn’t recognise me. Excellent! But I better warn SisR. While the noise of the excited chaos swirled all around him Ravi extracted his mopho. ‘HELMETS WITH KID WE DONE YESTD’ he thumbed in but then heard the classroom door opening again. Ravi paused and looked up. The cacophony in the room muttered out as Mrs. Sackville-West came in. Ravi ducked his 104

St Wilson’s mopho out of sight under his desk. Activated mophos were strictly forbidden in class but most kids kept them on vibrate-only. Mrs. Sackville-West picked up her book to resume the lesson but was immediately inundated from all parts of the class, with questions as to what was going on. As she struggled to find answers that she felt had to be diplomatically vague, Ravi quickly thumbed in an end to his text: ‘BE AT DEN SOON.’ He quickly selected Dino from the address list and pressed ‘SEND.’ Then tucking the phone back into his pocket, he assumed a casual pose and returned to looking interested in whatever Mrs. Sackville-West was saying. When break finally came, after what seemed hours, Ravi pushed his way past his dallying classmates and rushed to the canteen to put his plan into action. Gotta be sure Raj eyeballs me. Walking up to his brother and just talking to him was something Ravi never did - especially not at school. So, minutes later, as he saw his brother arrived with his posse, Ravi noisily knocked the can of coke he had bought, so that it spilt over the table-top, causing the three girls opposite him to scream as they leapt away to avoid being splashed by the sizzling brown foam. As those nearest him protested at his clumsiness, Ravi, out of the corner of his eye, saw his brother sneer his disapproval and knew it was now safe for him to escape and be reunited with the Crew at the Den.

105

TOX

11 Square bashing

Tox opened his wet weary eyes and his heart jumped. There was something there. It looked at first like a pale shadow but there was a face. It was a man, standing in the direction of the dead-end corridor. He was just standing there silently. ‘Who are you?’ Tox asked nervously in a half whisper. The man smiled silently through his full but neatly trimmed grey beard. The man’s overall appearance was grey. His hair was grey, straight and long enough to cover his ears in a bob-style. It was neatly parted down the middle including the fringe that ended neatly just above his neat grey eyebrows. He wore a three piece grey suit with a shirt in a lighter shade of grey, a grey bow-tie, grey gloves and grey shoes. His eyes seemed to have a deep sadness and perhaps kindness or concern. He appeared to radiate calmness. Tox instantly felt more relaxed but was still puzzled. ‘How did you get in here? Can you help me?’ The man kept smiling silently and nodded gently. At last! Someone willing to help! ‘Can you tell me how to get outa here?’ 106

Square bashing The man broadened his kind intelligent smile and gently nodded. He reminded Tox of a neater version of a wizard he had seen in movie trilogy ‘Laird of Tinnitus’ and his very presence seemed to raise Tox’s spirits. ‘I can take away your pain,’ the man said in a gentle deep voice crackling with calming reassurance. ‘Great!’ Tox said but then thought about it. ‘But I don’t feel no pain?’ he said wrinkling his nose. The grey man lifted his gloved hand towards Tox with the index and middle fingers raised. Instantly Tox curled up in pain, dreadful pain and not just in one place but in lots all at once, His neck, his right side, on the side of his head, and both his arms and other parts of him which he had never had need to name before. ‘Arrgh! What are you doing?’ he screamed in agony. ‘Stop it! Stop it! What are you doing to me?’ ‘I have done nothing,’ was the calm even reply. ‘This is your real pain, the pain from the fall. Do you really want me to take it away?’ the man asked gently. ‘Yes! Of course! Yes!’ Tox squealed through his agony. ‘Stop it now! Please!’ Suddenly there was the sound of a voice behind Tox. It sounded muffled as if it was coming through a pillow. ‘Boy! Here boy! I mean Dude over here Dude!’ Despite his awful pain Tox looked back towards the plastic doors. ‘Over here Dude! Quick Man!’ the voice ordered. Tox saw something moving on the right hand side of the plastic door. It was half a face but sideways up with its features flattened but still familiar enough for Tox to recognise it. It’s Rah.

107

TOX The pointed features of his face were distorted from being pressed hard against the plastic. It looked like he was parallel to the floor but about three feet above it. From behind Tox the deep calm voice of the grey man made him turn to look. ‘Ah! Perhaps your destiny is entwined with that of your friend? I will need to confirm.’ A slight flick of his grey eyebrows and movement of his eyes let Tox know the grey man was referring to Rah. ‘He’s not my friend,’ Tox squealed Tox turned his head back to look at Rah. Suddenly Rah’s face disappeared with a ‘yelp!’ It was as if he had been pulled by his feet by someone off to the right in Dr Girl’s big room. Tox immediately thought it must be Dr Girl grabbing Rah from off to the right. Tox felt his pain easing rapidly. He staggered to his feet and pushed his head through the pliable doors. He looked to the right where he had seen Rah disappear moments before. There was nothing - no one to be seen. Puzzled Tox looked to his left – nothing there either. Then through a gap in the banks of recording equipment he saw Dr Girl in the distance carefully adjusting the angle of one of her precious microphones. Instinctively Tox ducked back. So it wasn’t her. So what’s happened to Rah? Where’s that fool gone? Tox noticed that the grey man had gone. ‘Boy! Dude! Come on, quick!’ Rah’s muffled voice squeaked again. Tox looked back at the plastic door. Once more the top half of Rah’s flattened face was peering at him from half way up the right side. Tox pulled the door back to look outside again. ‘Ow! Ow!’ Rah squealed ‘Stop Dude. That hurts real bad, Man.’

108

Square bashing Tox saw that the area outside to the right of the door was still deserted. He was about to let the door go when he noticed something very peculiar. When he looked at the door from the outside he could see the back of Rah’s head. ‘What the ….’ Tox started to say but was interrupted by Rah’s squeaky tones. ‘Man that hurts bad. Cut it out Dude.’ Tox jolted back inside and let the door go. Immediately he could see the top part of Rah’s’ face again. ‘Come on Man, get a move on. I can’t hang on much longer.’ Tox’s mouth dropped in amazement. Rah was in the door. ‘Aw! Man, what are you waiting for? Yelp!’ Rah’s face disappeared for a moment then reappeared again full of the effort of trying to keep a grip. ‘Come on, Dude!’ Tox shook himself then carefully pulled the door panel containing Rah gently back a little. He looked closely at it side on. It was constructed of two thick sheets of the pliable see-through plastic joined together. Tox found space for the fingers of both hands between the two sheets and pulled in opposite directions. The sheets parted with relative ease to a sound like Velcro being undone. Immediately Tox had to turn his head away as a cacophony of noise and warm stale air rushed out at him. Tox could see the top of Rah’s head. Rah’s little fingers were trying desperately to keep a grip on the door post but were having difficulty because he had to do this through the thickness of the plastic sheet of the door. The cacophony of noise seemed to wax and wane from somewhere below Rah’s feet. ‘Quick Man, now!’ Rah tried to look above his head at Tox. The effort caused him to slip so that he was now hanging on with his arms stretched out above his head. Holding his breath against the stale air, Tox reached in between the thick sheets and managed to grab hold of Rah’s wrist. Tox tried to pull Rah towards him but 109

TOX the edges of the door’s plastic panels just bent in with him. Then Rah lost his grip altogether and Tox was sucked in. They both fell screaming between the two sheets of plastic, which Tox now realised continued unbroken into the wall, way beyond the door frame. It felt like the Black Hole water-slide at the Aquadrome but even steeper and slippier, as if the surfaces had been greased with a dry invisible soap. Though Tox might normally have enjoyed such a ride, this particular experience was spoiled by the worry of what would be at the end. The waves of noise wafting up at them from wherever they were rapidly descending towards, strongly suggested that they would probably not be splash down into a safe pool of water. As he fell Tox could see

distorted

blobs

of

colour

through

the

translucent

plastic.

Suddenly the sounds crescendoed. ‘Woosh!’ With both of them flailing and yelling, Tox and Rah were spat out with a loud comic ‘ploop!’ into a riot of colour. Tox had braced himself for a hard landing but it never came. Instead he bounced. A trampoline! How cool is that? But it wasn’t. He didn’t bounce very high before descending again. Again his landing was soft but on a rubber surface of big bubbles – not flat like the skin of a trampoline – and it was white – very white. ‘They’re balloons! white balloons! Millions of ‘em, all squeezed together. Tox stretched out all his limbs to try to find his balance on their shinny surfaces but almost immediately his weight caused him to slip down between the balloons. His eyes shut as the white rubber pressed tight against his face. He could hear shouting and chanting. It got louder as he fell through. Beneath the canopy of balloons there were people – lots of them – packed tightly together and all facing the same direction like at a football match. Tox fell onto shoulders. ‘Oh! Eh! Sorry I ….’ 110

Square bashing No one paid him any attention. He slipped further down past bustling arms and hips. ‘Oi! Oi!’ Still no one paid any heed to him. ‘Oi! Don’t blank me! Oi!’ He reached the ground and found himself buffeted and kicked by legs and feet moving all around him. This is like being a rugby ball in a scrum. ‘Hey! Hey! Watch out!’ His voice was lost in the din of shuffling feet and squeaking balloons. Pushing out and grabbing indiscriminately at garments, Tox pulled himself up to his feet. Now the squash of bodies made it difficult to breathe. Tox could not see those around him clearly. The expressions on the few faces that he did manage to glimpse were solemn and stern. The crowd moved about as one, first in one direction then suddenly another. ‘A white balloon,’ they roared in unison. ‘White is right!’ ‘Hey! Hey!’ Tox tried objecting again at having all movement removed from his control but was totally ignored. He gritted his teeth and started to try and push through the thicket of bodies with little apparent success. He felt helpless. He began to despair. This is useless! After several minutes of being hopelessly swept along in the throng he felt his side press against something hard. He managed to squeeze his arm back and touch it with his hand. It was cold and made of metal. It’s a railing - a metal railing! If I can get there – maybe I can squeeze through. ‘If only I could....uugh!’

111

TOX The crowd lurched forward. Tox saw a gap between rails. Encouraged by the thought of relief he pushed, pulled and clawed with total effort. Finally, with a deep grunt, he managed to force his relatively small body out of the throng and through the gap. The relief was immediate. Rejoicing in deep breaths, he leaned back on some cold stone steps and looked up over his head. The steps led up to a plinth with a huge statue on it. The statue was carved from a deep pure black stone. It was of a long-haired man in flowing full-length robes. The figure’s right hand was outstretched and was holding a piece of thin metal, meant to represent string. This ran skywards to a large metal balloon. Who’s this dude then? He don’t half look dumb holding a balloon. But hey! It seems to be what’s done round here. The metal balloon had clearly been damaged at some point in the past and been repaired. It still bore traces of where graffiti had been removed. Ah! Taggin’, that’s more like it. The metal balloon looked like it might at one time have been supported only by the metal string that hung from its bottom but this was no longer the case. Now it only remained aloft with the help of three supporting rods that projected out from the grey stone plinth on which the dark statue stood. ‘White is right!’ The crowd roared outside the railings. Tox was suddenly reminded how close he still was to the unrelenting steaming crush. Using his hands and feet Tox climbed backwards up the steps like some strange stiff grasshopper with its head on upside-down. At the top he stood up with his back to the rough curved stone of the plinth. What he saw took his breath away. Freaky or what! There was a seething patchwork of different colours spread out before him. It stretched as far as he could see, from the mass of white that surrounded his place of sanctuary, through a cyan patch then yellow and further away beige. Standing out above the multi-coloured quilt were other statues of a similar 112

Square bashing theme to the one by which he stood. Each statue was a dark representation of a proud looking man with flowing robes and carrying a large balloon in their right hand. Where each of the statues was sited, the flow of coloured balloons was forced to divide around it like river water being split by bridge piers. Huh! No sign of Rah. Where has rat-features dumped me now? As Tox watched, the huge swathe of white balloons, from which he had recently escaped onto his oasis of relative calm, was moving behind the statue’s base to his left. Their place was filled by a bustling tide of blue flooding round from behind the plinth to the right. A thunderous roar filled the air: ‘The true voice is turquoise!’ ‘White is right!’ The retort came from the departing white horde. ‘Turquoise the only choice!’ The Blues’ response was so loud Tox felt it resound in his rib cage. Shortly after this where he stood was completely surrounded by blue. Even though he was several feet away and above the compression of bodies beyond the railings Tox could feel the warmth wafting up past him like the outflow from a kitchen extractor vent. Tox looked out towards the distance again. The noise and changing patterns made him feel dizzy. He steadied himself against the cold stone. Ugh! It might be better round the other side. Without loosing contact with the stone at his back he felt his way around a quarter circle of the plinth circumference. What he saw wasn’t much different and certainly wasn’t any great help. For although the area immediately closest was a continuous pool of tightly packed blue rubber bubbles, less than a hundred yards away was a broad field of green. ‘Pure, lime, every time!’ roared out from that quarter. 113

TOX Then he saw it, a sharp pointed ‘V’ of blackness cutting through the massed colours from the distant horizon. It was like a huge dark zipper undoing a multicoloured fleece, with great ease. In the distance way beyond the sea of green it had already divided the massed orange ranks leaving a trail like some evil jet‘s wake splitting a spectacular sunset sky. The dark arrowhead was already making progress into the furthest edge of the green ranks. In the middle distance the black ‘V’ surrounded a statue and Tox saw human figures climb up on its structure like ants on a cola bottle at a picnic. As he watched, the distant figures swung and guided dark hawsers over and around the statue before jumping down to rejoin the dark mass. The ropes were drawn taught connecting the statue to the crowd below. Next, slightly before Tox heard a distant cheer, the statue’s metal balloon toppled off, distorting the shape of the edge of the black arrow as people leaped out of its way. Next went the statue’s head. Then with a sickening prolonged creaking groan its main body was hauled down, followed by a long resounding cheer. Then Tox was distracted. The massed ranks of blue balloons that had been surrounding his place of refuge, had now been pushed from his view to the other side of the plinth. In their place was a meadow of perfectly rounded mounds of green balloon tops like bubble-wrap for a St Patrick’s Day present. Those people hidden underneath the tight canopy were no longer chanting and seemed to be moving past where he stood much faster than before, like some great river in flood. Still using his hands behind his back to support himself against the increased sensation of dizziness that the panorama caused him, Tox looked back towards the black ‘V.’ Its point was now near enough for him to make out individuals in the dense crowd. They were all wearing some sort of black tunic, without any visible contrasting features such as buttons of a different colour to break the monochrome. The faces had lips and eyes tight with aggressive determination. They reminded Tox of the horror image burnt onto

114

Square bashing his mind, of the faces of the SisR’s Crew as he had glimpsed them over his shoulder during the terror of the chase. All seems so long ago now. Tox knew he couldn’t linger on that thought. The black arrowhead was coming straight at him. He could hear the urgency in the footsteps and grunts of the green balloon carriers as they were forced to squeeze by on either side of the railings protecting his position. What if they attacked this place? What if they want to destroy the statue of Balloono here? What’ll they do to me? I ain’t riskin’ findin’ out - that’s for sure. Keeping one hand touching the stone of the plinth Tox made his way further round in search of an escape route. Here the ranks of white and blue balloons that had passed him earlier were being pushed further and further away but there was something different. The white ranks were being forced to part right and left but not by a sinister black ‘V’ or by railings around statue plinths. Here a curving cliff face about twice the height of a house forced the division in the masses of balloon carriers. The cliff stretched off evenly into the distance on each side, like looking over the top of a wheel on its side. Tox opened his eyes wide and shook his head to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. For built into the cliff face at ground level, there was a series of doorways. These stretched off as far as his eyes could see in either direction. They were big old fashioned doorways, with pillars on each side, like Tox had seen in the old part of Oldtown. They were evenly spaced just a couple of feet apart and, oddest of all, each doorway had a uniformed guard stood in front of it. Tox squinted. They look like helmets! Suddenly there was the deafening roar of thousands of voices in tight unison. ‘Bang!’ It was so loud and unexpected that Tox jumped. Chef! 115

TOX It had come from the side of the statue that he had recently left. Tox looked up, his heart thumping like a drum ’n’ bass rhythm track. The sky was darkening rapidly. I gotta get outa here - now! Tox looked back to where the helmets were standing guard by the doorways. The nearest looked to be about a half a football pitch away, across the stampede of balloons. Disregarding his normal reluctance for anything to do with authority – especially helmets – Tox started shouting and waving to try and get attention. ‘Oi! Help!’ If I can just get their attention – they’ll see the trouble I’m in. There’s plenty of ‘em. They should be able to push their way through this mob and get me. After his initial experience of the careless rabble of feet Tox truly feared for his life should he get wedged like that again. ‘Over here! Help! Over here! Officer, over here! Help! Oi!’ Tox’s voice was immediately lost in the deafening din that surrounded him. It’s like spitting in a river. His frantic waving didn’t seem to be having any effect either. He tried leaping up and down and thought he saw the nearest helmet look over in his direction. But after a second the helmet seemed to look away again, giving no sign that he recognised Tox’s plight and certainly making no effort to gather the others and attempt a rescue. ‘Hey! Over here! Help me! Oi! Officer!’ Again the nearest helmet glanced in his direction but then just looked away without even removing his hands from behind his back. ‘Bang!’ the massed voices roared again from much closer behind the statue this time. Chef! It’s no use. I’ll have to risk the crush again. 116

Square bashing Tox took a deep breath then dropped down the steps two at a time towards the railings below. He heard a shuffling noise behind him and turned to look, his eyes wide with fright. There was someone stood where he had been moments before. Both parties froze staring at each other. The face above a dark uniform was that of a youth, perhaps fifteen or sixteen years old. His face was smeared black like a commando and was full of shock at finding Tox there but he still managed to speak first. ‘What are you?’ he demanded, ‘Balloon or Blast?’ Tox didn’t understand the question but it didn’t matter. Before he could answer there was another deafening roar from the other side of the plinth. A dark thick rope came flying through the air down from over the right arm of the statue. The youth was spurred to action. He turned and grabbed the thick rope as another youth appeared from around the curve of the plinth. Then ignoring Tox, the pair began to pull on the heavy rope using all their weight. Once they had sufficient slack they began to haul it round towards the right side of the plinth. Tox turned away and taking another deep breath, squeezed between the bars of the railings and into the forest of legs and bodies on the other side. He was instantly swept along by the crush, gasping for breath in the stench of the hot panic all around him. He had no influence whatsoever on his direction. There was no chanting now from those pressing in around him, only the rapid wheezing of squashed lungs. He could even hear the squeaks of balloon against balloon friction. Then he became aware of another sound. It started as a series of irregular light thuds then rapidly built in frequency and intensity. It sounded very familiar. Then Tox realised it was raining but he could feel no drops. The canopy of green rubber above him was so dense no drops could get through. You’ve gotta get through this. Concentrate! The doors – I gotta get to them doors. He tried to push blindly in the direction he thought he should go but he made no apparent progress against the general current of sweaty bodies. 117

TOX ‘Excuse me!’ he squealed, his voice full of effort but once again he was completely blanked. Chef! This is useless! He began to worry he would faint and be crushed and trampled by thousands of feet. ‘For God’s sake I can’t breathe!’ he yelled. ‘I need room. Stop!’ Still no one paid the slightest bit of attention to him. Then, just as he felt he could take no more, there was a change. The throng of bodies sweeping him along veered off to left. This created a bit of space to his right. Encouraged by the prospect of some relief, Tox began to push and claw his way in that direction. Finally, through fleeting gaps, he saw what looked like one of the doors. He even thought he could make out the navy uniform and yellow high-visibility jacket of one of the helmets. ‘Help me, I’m being crushed,’ he pleaded but the uniform did not move. ‘Help me, please!’ No response. Tox pushed again with all the energy he could muster. He could see the flattened arch of a crash barrier, just out of reach. Come on! Another push and I can grab it. A final grunted effort and his hand touched the cold metalwork. His fingers scrambled for a better grip then he was pulling himself through. Finally, he hauled his battered frame underneath the crossbar and collapsed, panting for breath onto the very welcome space on its far side. As his breathing eased, he opened his eyes. He was a mere six inches from a shining pair of Doc Martin shoes. Raising his head his eyes followed the line up along a pair of navy-blue trousers, passed a heavy belt and a high-visibility yellow jacket to the helmet’s face. Under the helmet’s pointed helmet and beneath a pair of heavy black eye-brows, there was an inane smile beaming down at him. Tox was fuming.

118

Square bashing ‘What the chef are you playing at? What’s the point in you being here if you’re not going to help someone like me? I was nearly killed out there. You must’ve seen me. They’re all cheffing crazy out there. Why didn’t you help me?’ Tox let loose in a torrent. The helmet just stood there holding one arm with the other behind his back and continued to smile annoyingly. ‘Well?’ Tox demanded. ‘My! My! Young Sir does have a temper on him does he not? Would Young Sir be requiring assistance in attaining an upright position?’ the helmet eventually asked, ignoring what Tox had asked him. What is it about everyone in this place? Nobody seems to be able to talk straight. First I had to put up with Rah’s gibbering and now this helmet sounds like something out of those DVDs of black and white TV shows Gran used to watch over and over, when she lived with us. Just what is it about this place? Or should that be: what is this place? Oh! Please! How do I get outa here? The helmet had extended a hand towards Tox. Tox took hold of it and pulled himself up to his feet. He was still full of rage. He waved his hand towards the long line of helmets standing guard by doorways. ‘What’s the point of you lot standing round here doing nothing, when there’s a riot going on out there? How can you just stand here when people might be getting hurt? They’re even smashing the statues. Don’t you care?’ ‘No, not really Young Sir,’ the helmet replied in a benignly patronising tone. ‘Out there, as you refer to it, is beyond my jurisdiction.’ The helmet pointed to the badge on the front of his pointed helmet. Etched in the silver metal of the badge were the letters: ‘G.O.T.P.O.T.’ What’s that mean?’ ‘Guardian Of The Portals Of Truth. And this is who I am,’ the helmet replied pointing proudly to a number on his shoulder, which again in silver read as ‘2007.’ 119

TOX ‘But that’s a year,’ Tox sneered. ‘No, that is who I am.’ ‘What like a name?’ ‘I am not a name I’m a number, Two Thousand Zero Seven if you please.’ Guardian Of The Portals Of Truth Two Thousand Zero Seven.’ ‘Bit of a mouthful, if you ask me.’ Tox shook his head and looked away in disbelief out over the view again. The rain was easing but a torrent of green balloon carriers was still veering off to right and left to avoid colliding with the metal crash barrier. ‘That, Young Sir, is Adam’n’Ever’s Square and beyond said barrier anyone can do whatever they profess to believe in.’ ‘What, even if it hurts others?’ Tox asked incredulously. ‘They have a perfect right, Young Sir.’ ‘Even to do damage?’ Tox pointed to the ruin of the toppled statue where he had once stood. ‘I suggest Young Sir will find, that such activities do not infringe the statutes pertaining to Adam’n’Ever’s Square,’ 2007 replied, clearly pleased with his choice of words. I’ll take that as a “yes,’’ Tox thought, not having understood all the words he had just heard. ‘But what’s with all the balloons? I mean, why do different posses have different colours, and the shouting and all – what’s that about?’ ‘That’s obvious surely?’ 2007 replied looking down his nose at Tox. Tox just stared back up at him to indicate that it clearly wasn’t obvious to him. 2007 felt obliged to explain further. ‘Those with the same colour balloons believe they all believe the same things.’ 120

Square bashing Tox remembered the youth he had come face to face with on the steps of the statue. ‘And what about the one’s in black, the one’s with no balloons?’ ‘Ah! I expect that Young Sir is referring to the Beebis as we call them,’ 2007 replied proud of his superior knowledge-ability. ‘The whats?’ ‘The Beebis, or the Balloon Blast Iconoclasts, to give them their full title and indeed the title they prefer.’ ‘So why don’t they have balloons?’ Tox persisted. ‘Oh but they do, Young Sir. Their balloons are stored away in little boxes strapped on their backs. They prefer to believe that they are balloonless and like to give the impression that they are balloonless. But they are not.’ ‘Well that should be easy to prove, just get them to open their packs and show them what’s in there. Uh!’

Tox said sarcastically shrugging his

shoulders. 2007 merely smiled and gestured with his hand towards the Square in front of them. Tox looked up and immediately took a step back. The balloon holders had been dispersed to either side and in their place stood the massed ranks of stern stain-faced black uniformed troopers, staring menacingly straight to their front. ‘Would Young Sir care to demonstrate how easy it should be?’ 2007 asked calmly with more than a hint of sarcasm. Tox shuddered at the thought. The eyes of those arraigned before him, were staring through and past him and 2007. Without realising it Tox stepped further backwards so that his back was pressed against the stone pillar at the side of the doorway. In fright he pressed against 2007’s side ignoring the unpleasant feel of the material in the bright yellow rain-proof high-visibility jacket. 2007 acknowledged Tox’s fear without offering him a comforting arm. ‘Don’t fret Young Sir, the Beebis won’t hurt you here.’ 121

TOX Tox saw that those at the front of the dark horde made no attempt to breach the frighteningly easily-step-over-able barrier. ‘Why don’t they cross?’ ‘Because they believe that to do so is to submit to having what you believe in tested to the full, - perhaps even to extinction. You know, having one’s beliefballoon popped.’ This didn’t mean anything to Tox so he widened his eyes and pursed his bottom lip. Reading Tox’s lack of understanding, 2007 explained further. ‘Out on the Square anyone can believe what he or she wishes and can feel secure in the knowledge that those around them believe the same things as they do. But the Portals of Truth…’ 2007 paused to gesture towards the long line of guarded door-ways. ‘…These permit entry to one individual at a time only. ‘On “one’s todd” as my father used to say – “a test for one alone,” they say.’ “They say?” Tox quoted back sceptically as he pointed to the doorway behind 2007. ‘Don’t you know what’s in there then?’ ‘I believe I know my place.’ 2007 replied straightening his posture defensively and restoring his arms to their preferred position behind his back. ‘And I believe my place is here guarding the Portals of Truth.’ ‘Humph! But ain't you curious then?’ Tox persisted, amused by 2007’s discomfort. ‘I mean what have you to lose, you have no balloon to pop?’ ‘Of course I have!’ 2007 reached up and lifted his pointed helmet from his head to reveal a navy-blue balloon sat neatly on top of his head. Tox’s jaw dropped open. The balloon had the shape of a silver star on its surface. There was some writing arched round the bottom of the star which was too small for Tox to read. Using both his hands to carefully replace his helmet, 2007 continued with a slight sneering tone: 122

Square bashing ‘Everybody has a belief balloon of some sort.’ ‘I don’t,’ Tox protested cheekily. ‘I don’t believe in nothin’. Mum said we are agnostics.’ ‘Oh? What’s that then?’ 2007 was pointing to a spot somewhere behind Tox’s right ear. Tox turned his head and caught a glimpse of a small balloon floating slightly above his head, just as it darted off behind his field of vision. It seemed to be attached by an invisible cord to somewhere behind him. Tox tried to reach behind his back for the cord but his hands failed to make contact with anything other than the back of his jacket. He tried moving his head slowly round until he caught a glimpse of the balloon again. It worked. Looking at it from the corner of his eye, he saw it was silver in colour and reflective like the curved back of a spoon. Tox saw the reflection of the black uniforms, now on the move again on the other side of the barrier to the front of where he stood. There was a distorted reflection of himself, behind which he could see the curved reflection of 2007 and the doorpost. Just as he was about to turn away, movement in the reflection of the dark doorway caught his eye. He focused in, compensating in his mind for the distortion of the curve. Looking hard he could make out two figures. One was an adult in uniform and the other a kid. At first he thought it was just his own reflection with 2007. Then, looking closer, he was shocked as the kid’s face turned towards him and he recognised it. It’s T-K-Q! - and he’s talking to a helmet. T-K-Q had a very worried expression and the helmet seemed to be asking him questions and noting down the answers. Then something flashed passed the pair. Tox strained to make out what it was. It was kids running. The helmet pealed away from his inquisition of T-K-Q and started to give chase. They all ran straight towards Tox. Tox recognised the kids. Chef! It’s SisR and his St Wilson’s Crew. 123

TOX Instinctively Tox pulled his head back but didn’t turn away. Suddenly the scene changed. It was very dark. But there was a light moving about, like the beam from a flashlight. It waved from side to side as it got closer. It was a light on a yellow pit-helmet underneath which was a heavily built man. He was wearing a long-sleeved yellow jumper and a terracotta coloured overall that formed an all-in-one piece with rubber waders. He was sloshing his way along the centre of a stream. His muscular arms were carrying something. It was a kid. The kid’s body was limp and his right arm flopped down to the front, swaying in time to the man’s steps through the murky stream. With a start Tox recognised the school jacket the kid was wearing. It’s mine! – it’s - It’s me! Next there was blinding light and Tox had to close his eyes. When he reopened them he saw the silhouette of a head against bright lighting. It was very familiar looking, the way the hair was tied back with escaped strands curling in the brightness. The head came closer revealing a face quivering with mixed emotions: concern, joy, fright, relief and love. ‘Mum!’ Tox called out involuntarily. ‘Sorry?’ came 2007’s voice from beside him. ‘Did you say something?’ Tox turned excitedly. ‘It’s Mum!’ He turned back to view his balloon side on. It was still full of bright light but Mum was gone. Tox realised that the light was now the reflection of the sunshine which had replaced the heavy rain clouds over Adam’n’Ever’s Square. He felt bitter disappointment flood in on him. He looked out over the square. The massed dark ranks of Beebis had gone from the other side of the barrier and had been replaced by a sea of pale purple balloon carriers in loose flowing purple robes. A roar went up: ‘What do you lack? Lilac!’ Tox returned his attention to the little silver balloon by the side of his head. 124

Square bashing Perhaps if I get the angle of my eye just right again I…. He frantically tried to make rapid small adjustments to the angle of his head but it was no use. Mum’s image was gone. All he could see was the harsh sunshine and the distorted image of the mass movement of purple balloon bearers. He looked back over the balloon-scape, then he turned to the 2007. ‘Why do I think you won’t know what’s on the far side of the Square?’ ‘Perhaps because I believe I do not.’ ‘Huh!’ Tox grunted his disapproval. ‘Perhaps there is no other side. Many believe in Eternity,’ 2007 continued. Tox shook his head. Useless! I’ve gotta get out of here. Tox didn’t fancy taking his chances again back out in the Square, so the only other option would seem to be through one of the doorways. But maybe all these guys are afraid to go through the ‘Portals’ for a good reason. Even the name “the Portals of Truth” sounds real heavy. Maybe they know of somthin’ terrible in there. Could so many be wrong? From what this bozo says, even the helmets are too scared to go through. But then maybe what I saw in my balloon is a sort of sign. Maybe it was meant to tell me that that is the way out – the way for me to be rescued. Chef! I should never have left the tunnel. But maybe I can get back through one of these doors. Yeah! Maybe it was a sign. But which doorway - there are hundreds - thousands even? What’s the difference? Tox glanced at his balloon again for inspiration. There was none. He looked out at the square. A swarm of brown balloons was flooding in. No help there. He looked at 2007. ‘Humph!’

125

TOX He looked along the curved line at the other helmets each one staring straight ahead as they guarded their precious ‘Portal.’ Huh! I bet they’ll all be as useless as bozo here. Looks like it’s down to me. But which one? He peered into the darkness of the portal behind him. He could see nothing but darkness disappearing into itself. Maybe I was brought to this one for a reason. Yeah but why? Anyway enough! ‘Brown, the only show in town!’ The roar made him jump again. Hell I gotta get out of here. ‘I’m going through,’ he announced to 2007 and went to push past. ‘Oh!’ 2007 was startled but recovered quickly enough to place his right hand on Tox’s shoulder as a restraint. ‘Eh, just a minute Young Sir,’ ‘What now?’ ‘Due process,’ came the formal reply. ‘What?’ ‘You must follow due process and first affirm your fitness of purpose.’ What is this bozo going on about now? ‘What?’ ‘All those who wish to enter the Portals of Truth must first confirm their state of preparedness.’ ‘And how do I do that?’ ‘By providing the required answers to the Questions of Assertion.’ 126

Square bashing He’s making this up. ‘Huh?’ ‘If Young Sir is in certainty of his intent to proceed through this Portal of Truth then I may inform Young Sir that I am appropriately authorised to conduct the necessary interview.’ ‘Huh?’ ‘Is Young Sir certain that he wishes to proceed?’ ‘Yeah! For sure – more than ever!’ ‘Right then!’ 2007 reached in under his yellow high-visibility over-jacket and extracted from inside his tunic below, a blue laminated card, about the size of this book. Then shuffling his arms to raise the sleeves a bit, he held the card at arm's length and cleared his throat. ‘Right then, is Young Sir still certain of his desire to proceed?’ ‘Yes!’ ‘Good, good! Right! Ready?’ ‘Yes!’ ‘Right then. Ahem! Do you confirm that you desire to enter this here Portal of Truth?’ Tox thought about the wording. Hmm! Not sure I want to enter through this particular Portal. Is there a warning in the wording? Maybe I should ask. He took another look at 2007. Naw, maybe not. ‘Yes.’ ‘Good, good, so far.’ 127

TOX Get on with it! Tox faked a patient smile. ‘Ready for the next one?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Right! Do you confirm that you are of right mind?’ Again Tox had to overcome the doubts that he had regarding his own sanity of late. ‘Eh! Yes.’ ‘Good! And do you confirm that you enter herein under the full freeness of your will, not having been placed under any pressure to do so by person or persons other than yourself?’ ‘Yes! I do.’ Now it’s sounding like Aunty Asumpta’s wedding. ‘Perfect so far. And do you affirm that passage will be undertaken only by you and you alone and that you do not intend to secrete others about your person?’ Tox frowned at the nonsense. ‘Yes! Yes! Of course I do.’ All this officious language was beginning to erode his initial burst of confidence in his decision. Maybe I haven’t considered everything. Maybe I should wait - give it more thought. ‘Good. All correct so far. Nearly there. Ready for the home stretch?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Good. So do you confirm that you understand that on entering this Portal of Truth, you may find other than what you believe you will find?’ Tox felt he definitely did not want to think about this one too much. 128

Square bashing ‘Yes! I do.’ ‘Wonderful! Well Young Sir I am glad to say I can now certify that you have officially affirmed.’ 2007 began the struggle of replacing the blue card to the inside pocket of his tunic. Having completed this he stepped to the side of the portal and stood to attention, eyes fixed out across Adam’n’Ever’s Square. ‘Pass.’ 2007’s face no longer had an inane smile and he no longer gave any recognition of Tox being there. Tox moved to the middle of the opening. It was narrow, with just about room to allow an average sized person to pass through comfortably. The walls, ceiling and floor all came out of the forbidding darkness to meet the frame of the portal exactly. It’s a passageway in a pyramid or something. Tox looked about for a light-switch but found none. Suddenly this portal thing don’t seem so clever. He glanced back out at the square. Maybe I should…. No! You’ve made your decision. Stick it out! So taking in a stiff breath and holding it, he stepped over the threshold. As he inched cautiously into the gloom he heard a hissing noise coming from behind his right ear. Turning his head nervously he glimpsed his silver balloon deflating rapidly and dropping out of sight.

129

TOX

12 Crew Den

Less than twenty minutes after leaving St Wilson’s Ravi was pushing his way through the overgrown bushes along the side of a bridge over the route of the old disused railway, now converted to a foot/cycle path. The Den was a disused storage room that had been built into the redbrick structure of the bridge. It was now not easy to get to, as it was part way up a steep bank that was covered in thick bushes, many of which were brambles or had forbidding spiky thorns. What made it ideal as the Crew Den was the concealed entrance. A huge rough concrete square, that had once stood upright on the embankment somewhere above the Den, had slipped down the slope due to subsidence until it now leant at an acute angle. Its grey square-cut top now pressed against the older structure of the bridge and had scraped a scar in the dirt of the brickwork overtime, as it had slipped even further down since the two cold surfaces had first kissed. The result was a narrow triangular area formed between the two structures that acted as an anti-chamber and hid the entrance to the Crew Den. It was too small for adults to access easily but perfect for agile kids. Before entering Ravi stood as tall as he could and looked around carefully to make sure he hadn’t been followed. Then he ducked down and slipped into the triangular cave. Seconds later, he paused as he reached the dark rectangle of the entrance to the Den itself. He had to give the signal. Grasping his bottom lip with his upper front teeth he sucked in making a 130

Crew Den squeaky kissing sound: ‘Pffp-pffp-pffp-pffp.’ He stopped and listened for the expected reply. None came. He signalled again – still nothing. ‘Hey! It’s me, Ravi,’ he whispered loudly. ‘It’s me Spaghettis.’ This was part of the Crew’s nickname for him, which he didn’t like much but then some others in the Crew had been given new names that they didn’t like. In some cases it was SisR’s way of asserting his authority. Take Juan for instance. When he first joined the Crew the others called him ’One,’ which SisR didn’t like. SisR was number one and he didn’t like the idea of there being any possibility of confusion. So he took to calling Juan ‘June’ and soon everyone did, much to Juan’s annoyance. ‘Pffp-pffp-pffp-pffp’ Ravi tried the signal one more time - nothing. Hey! This ain’t right. They should be here. He decided to go in anyway – cautiously - as SisR’s instructions were always to wait for a reply, as some times he might be “conducting private business that mustn’t be interrupted.”

Even before Ravi’s eyes adjusted to the

darkness he could see he was alone. Ravi decided to light one of the old oil lamps and scrambled around in his right side trouser pocket for his new lighter. The lamp was warm to touch. So the Crew have been here – and not long ago neither. He carefully lit the wick then replaced the glass cover before looking round. SisR’s throne, a car seat covered in a shaggy sheepskin, was empty. So too were the large blue and cream strips of foam rubber meant to remove some of the discomfort caused by the rigidity of the railway sleepers underneath. These normally provided seating for the older more senior members of the Crew like Pencil, Rasper, Choker and June. Still, this set up was more comfortable than the two halves of a lorry tyre he usually had to share with Gravy, Dino, Pinki and Dodi.

131

TOX But where are they all gone and why? Maybe they’ve gone to get stuff for a long stay, what with the helmets trying to hunt us and all. But why would they all go together? They’ll be more easy to see moving around outside in a posse. Our photo-fits might be on TV already. Maybe that punk kid was dead like SisR said. The helmets might have guns and dogs. Chef dogs! Sniffer dogs could follow their trail all the way from school. They think they’re hunting murderers – init? But we ain’t - are we? I mean we didn’t mean to kill him, did we? Ravi reflected back on how mean-minded and totally focused he had felt, as part of the Crew, during the chase, the day before. What would have happened if we’d caught him? He decided not to dwell on this. I gotta focus on what’s happening here, find out what‘s going on. Anxiously he thumbed a text: WHERE R U. He sent it to Gravy as he didn’t dare bother SisR directly and risk serious grief for not showing proper respect. After four fidgety minutes of sitting in the eerily swaying shadows cast by the oil-lamp, he had received no reply. He sent the message again, this time adding ‘ AT DEN -’ to the beginning. This time he sent it to Dino. Three and a half minutes later he decided to tone Gravy. ‘Gravy on some cool business right now, so state yo business after this: BEEP.’ It went straight to message too when he tried Dino and then Pinki. Why is nobody answerin’? Where are they? Have the helmets got them already? It don’t make sense. I should have stayed with them. What was I thinkin’, man? With what seemed like every helmet in the world chasing the Crew down it wouldn’t have mattered if Raj hadn’t seen me. They ain’t my family now, the Crew is. The Crew is my true family. Only the Crew matter. I should have remembered that. 132

Crew Den He thought back to when he last saw the Crew. SisR even hinted it to me when he just said “Whatever!” Chef! How stupid was I, man? Maybe my family is right about me, maybe I am just dumb. Ravi pulled himself out of his whirlpool of self-hate and went back outside. He climbed further up the bank and looked around. It was beginning to get dark. He resisted the strong temptation to call out some Crew names, afraid of drawing attention to himself, should the helmets be in the vicinity. He listened hard. There was a muffled sound of traffic. A lone bird sang a mournful liquid tune, while another clicked like a Geiger counter in the bushes below near the footpath. There was no sound of any Crew activity but, on the positive side, there was no sign of any helmets either. Suddenly he heard a male voice on the pathway below. A dog barked close by. Ravi’s heart jumped in his chest. He turned and clattered back down through the browned bushes and shrivelled weeds, his eyes bulging and his heart thumping audibly. He grazed the back of his hand on the rough concrete as he scampered through the Den entrance, before collapsing on the Crew bench gasping for breath through his terror. He held his breath every few seconds to check for sounds of pursuit from outside. There were none. He was alone - very alone. This ain’t how it’s meant to happen. This was meant to be a great day, my day. Why does nothing ever happen right for me, man? Where are they? Why’ve they gone off without telling me? He felt tears of self-pity seeping out of the corner of his eyes. He wiped them immediately. What if the Crew was to come back and catch you like this, man? But three more minutes alone in the company of the dancing shadows and his resistance failed. He was sniffling uncontrollably.

133

TOX

13 Realland

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness Tox became aware that there was a pale diffuse pink light similar to what he had seen in the tunnels when following Rah. This could be good, maybe these portals lead back to the way I came in. Maybe I can find my way to where I was. I should never have listened to Ratso. As he cautiously ventured further in along the narrow passage Tox looked around him. The walls, ceiling and floor seemed to be made of huge bricks, as big as Tox himself, carefully cut to fit neatly together. Something in the stone work glistened in the pale light. Tox touched the wall to satisfy his curiosity. Once again it did not feel like stone. It was not cold and had a slight flexibility that made him shiver at its alien feel. After he had gone in about twenty feet Tox came to a point where seven corridors including the one he had just walked along, splayed off in different directions like the fingers of a star. Chef! Another decision! Why can’t anything in this dumb place be simple? In hope of finding some sort of sign Tox started looking down the passageways in turn. Down the third one a movement caught his attention. He stared hard then jumped back with fright. It was an adult standing about ten feet away, where the passageway curved into the darkness. 134

Realland ‘Who is it?’ Tox asked nervously. The figure came slowly towards him. It was the Grey Man. Instantly Tox felt his body fill with pain in all the areas he had felt it on their previous encounter. He twisted, overbalancing, to lean against the rounded edge that formed the corner of two of the joining passageways. ‘Go away!’ he wailed through his agony. The Grey Man smiled benignly as he came slowly nearer. ‘What are you doing to me? Stop it please! What have I ever done to you to deserve this?’ ‘I am doing nothing and you have done nothing,’ came the calm deep voiced reply. ‘What you experience is your own real pain. But I can take it away, if you ask. Do you want me to take away your pain forever?’ ‘Yes! Yes! Just stop it! Stop it now, please!’ ‘Are you sure?’ the Grey Man asked, his voice hypnotically calming. ‘Yes! Yes!’ The Grey Man broadened his smile even further as he slowly raised his greygloved hand, with the index and middle fingers extended towards Tox’s forehead. Suddenly there was a high pitched yell from one of the other passageways. ‘No!’ At the same instant Tox felt someone leap at him from his right and hit him full on. Tox was off balance. The momentum knocked him sideways into the passageway to his left. He tried to turn to grapple with whoever was pushing him but he couldn’t. Together they stumbled and fell along the curving corridor. Next Tox was blinded by bright daylight. He was tumbling over and over down a steep damp grassy slope, still gripping and gripped by his assailant. Clumps of coarse grass lashed against his face as he rolled uncontrollably. Moments later the slope eased and they gradually came to a halt in a thick 135

TOX patch of prickly reeds. Tox instinctively raised a fist ready to defend himself as he pushed the upper part of his torso away from his wrestling partner in order to get a better view. ‘You!’ he shouted breathlessly. ‘Yo Dude! Of course Man, who else is looking out for ya?’ Rah replied cheekily, but still cringing away from Tox’s raised fist. ‘What did you do that for?’ ‘I saved you Man. You rustled Grayend, Man …..’ Rah began but was cut across by Tox. ‘To take away my pain.’ As he said this, Tox realised that he no longer felt any pain but something was not quite right. His whole body felt kind of numb. Rah was lying on his back, with Tox overlooking him. Rah tried to look up over his own eyebrows to see back up the steep hill. ‘If Grayend touches you, Man, that’s it, lights out, you won’t be here.’ Rah said in a hushed voice. ‘But I don’t want to be here. That’s just it. I want out of this dumb place. I need to get home!’ ‘Sssh!’ Rah ordered in a forceful whisper, as he tried to look back up the hill over his eyebrows. ‘When Grayend touches you you’ll be an ex-Dude. You may be “ex” everywhere, Man. I don’t know for sure.’ The meaning of Rah’s words crawled over Tox like a chill. Tox joined Rah in trying to peer up the hill through the rustling tufts of moor grass. He could not see the opening through which the pair of them had exited from the dark passageways. There was only a huge lichen mottled rock formation protruding out of the grassy slope directly above where they lay. Above and beyond this Tox could see a scrawny line of bushes and small trees that circled a mountain side like a dark elastic band on a huge green egg. 136

Realland Suddenly there was a shuffling noise behind them. The pair turned eyes wide with terror. There was a pair of dark eyes staring at them from less than five feet away. ‘Agh!’ It was a sheep. All three parties stared wide-eyed unable to move. Eventually the sheep broke first, twisting away and bolting off with a prolonged bleat. Tox sat up and followed the animal’s path down through the plentiful bracken fronds. Near the foot of the slope the sheep joined a party of three others and came to a halt, seemingly instantly forgetting its encounter with the strange interlopers. About twenty feet beyond where the sheep had returned to grazing, there was a line of deciduous trees with their branches swaying gently in the breeze. The uneven row followed small undulations in the landscape as they rolled off into the distance. The trees towered over a small loose-stone wall that was over-grown with moss, nettles and briars intertwined here and there with rusted strands of barbed wire. Beyond the wall, in places where the terrain rose unevenly, Tox could see a narrow road, peeping occasionally between the gaps. Tox glanced to his right and immediately froze. There was a figure standing about thirty yards away, on the other side of the wall. It was Grayend. He was looking straight at Tox. He had the same benign beguiling smile. He slowly raised his left arm and beckoned for Tox to come down to him. Tox shuddered then jumped as he felt something tighten around his arm. It was Rah’s little hand. Rah’s face was full of urgency. ‘Up! Up!’ he commanded. Both of them rose awkwardly, using each other for support. They scrambled in a panic up the steep slope grabbing at clumps of moor grass and fronds of bracken, which sheered-off in their hands but still gratefully provided them with some resistance against the forces of gravity that seemed determined to drag them back down the hill. After a several minutes panting and, too terrified to look behind them, the pair arrived at the line of bushes that Tox had seen earlier. Through the gaps between the bushes, Tox could see a track of some sort on the other side. Tox thought 137

TOX that they would be able to run faster on that but getting there was prevented by a three-strand barbed-wire fence, that ran along on their side parallel to and sometimes through, the spiky bushes. Luckily on the side the pair was on, a narrow track, probably created by sheep, also ran parallel to the barrier. Rah turned right and Tox followed, struggling for breath. The track was muddy and slippery and the harsh grasses and weeds clattered against their legs as they ran but the going was still easier now they were no longer climbing vertically. After several hundred yards, Tox followed Rah in bending down and scrambling under the top strand of barbed-wire, where the lower two strands hung broken from the supporting fence post. Now they were on a gravel path with stones leaking out from under their footfalls and challenging their ability to remain upright. Grasses and weeds grew down its centre like a punk’s Mohican haircut, forcing the pair of fugitives to run on one side or the other. The ache in Tox’s thighs indicated that they were still running up hill. After about thirty seconds or so, Tox came to a halt, trying to catch his breath. He stood with an outstretched hand resting against a gnarled trunk of a heavily inclined tree. As he panted desperately, Tox looked out over the view that their elevated position now gave him. The tree-lined road below looked quite a bit further away down the slope than he expected. That’s good. It also seemed to veer away from them towards a grey lake that sat at the base of a heavily wooded round-topped mountain. The sky near the mountaintop was shrouded in grey and white clouds but Tox could see blue sky off to his right. Tox could not see any houses, which was disappointing from a help-and-rescue point of view. However he tried to be positive. At least this place looks real! - Compared to anywhere else Rah’s taken me. It reminds me of somewhere. I know! It’s like where Mum brought me two years ago.

138

Realland Mum had taken Tox to Ireland to see where Gran and Gramps had grown up – “to get to know his roots.” He hadn’t been impressed. His mopho hadn’t worked for a start. On top of that there were hardly any people of his own age – just one second-cousin – and there were many mingin farm smells that he hoped would never trouble his nostrils again. But at least I was with Mum. Mum, oh Mum! How am I ever going to get back? Extreme self-pity flooded in on top of his extreme weariness. He tried to be positive again. Still if somehow I‘m in Ireland I should be able to find someone who will be able to help me – someone who will know how to contact Mum. ‘Nothing.’ Rah’s squeaky voice cut across Tox’s thoughts. ‘Huh?’ ‘No sign of the Grey Dude - not below and not behind.’ ‘Eh! No - Where now?’ ‘Where I was earlier? Probably as cool as anywhere, Man.’ Rah said with a shrug of his sloping shoulders. ‘And where’s that?’ ‘Shaping Centre in Wysiwii. Hey! Maybe you can be disguised or somethin’, Dude! There real funky at that sort of thin’. Yeah!’ ‘There’s a shopping centre here?’ ‘No not here, Man, up there.’ Rah pointed to the mountain ridge above them. ‘A Shaping Centre.’ ‘Whatever.’ Whatever it is, it’s gotta be better than where we are now or were. ‘How far?’ 139

TOX ‘Three, four, five, six hours? Dunno Man.’ Rah turned to go. Tox had difficulty with the concept of how long an hour was. Sometimes just one hour seemed to take forever, especially like the last hour before school finished for the day. Other times, loads of hours together seemed like no time at all, like playing Dr Fear v. the Dread Dudes. Without knowing why Tox already had the impression that the hours Rah had just mentioned would be of the slowest kind. So with zero enthusiasm Tox forced his feet to follow Rah. The loose irregular stones hurt Tox’s feet, even through his spring-sprung trainers. Rah kept fidgeting and springing about, one instant running ahead to look around a bend, next veering over to the line of trees to look down the slope, other times walking backwards to check they were not being followed. It got on Tox’s nerves but he refrained from saying anything. With little else to distract him, Tox’s head kept filling with questions. What did Rah mean he had been here earlier? What exactly is a shaping centre? No point in asking Rat Boy here - whatever answer I got would not be worth the effort of the asking, that’s for sure. There’s something different about him though, different from when we first met – his clothes for a start – what’s happened there? Rah’s long fur coat had been shortened and cut into a furry hoody and a pair of track suit bottoms. Tox had never seen anything like them before. ‘Where did you get the new hoody?’ ‘Not new Man, Got re-threaded at the Shaping Centre - all part of the service - cool huh?’ ‘Hmm!’ Tox felt too tired to question Rah further. Instead he tried to cheer himself up by thinking positively.

140

Realland Of all the places I’ve been with Rah this is the realest looking. The trees feel real and they blow about in a real wind, which also has smells, some nice – hmm! - some not so. When the sun came out from behind the clouds the air got noticeably hotter. The sun looks real - it doesn’t have a stupid face or nothin’ - like in cartoons. Occasionally, crows leapt cawing into the air, startled by the unexpected intrusion of the odd pair clattering along the track. It feels real and hopefully is real and if it is real there should be a real way out. However his experiences so far gnawed away too easily at this idea. The pair arrived at a point where the track bent sharply back over the direction from which they had just come. It also began to rise sharply, causing Tox to puff again with the additional effort it required. After about four minutes climbing, the track turned sharply back on itself again. It repeated this again five minutes further on. At this point water cascaded noisily down from a mossy overhang of grey rock into a small pool that was clear but had a yellow-brown tint. Tox was instantly almost weak with thirst. Without hesitation he ran over to the edge of the pool with both hands cupped together to catch the falling water. The water was falling so hard, the drops immediately bounced straight out again, leaving his hands wet and Tox still parched with thirst. Tox knelt down and dipped his cupped hands into the icecold water of the pool. It tasted wonderful, almost sweet. Tox drank awkwardly, one cupped handful after another, until his thirst was no longer worth the effort involved in quenching it. Still on his knees, Tox stuck his arms under his armpits to try and restore warmth to his fingers. He looked up at Rah who was standing with a white disposable cup in his little hands. He raised it to his lips and took a noisy slurp. ‘Where did you get that?’ ‘From my pocket, Man.’ Rah pointed to the slit in his fur hoody. 141

TOX ‘I got things for most occasions. I’m a man of means, Man.’ Tox considered asking why Rah hadn’t offered to share the use of it, but decided he was more irritated by Rah’s attempts at cool talking. ‘What’s with all this ‘Man’ and ‘Dude’ thin’? I think I even prefered the way you talked before, you know, all that weird knock-kneed rhyming stuff.’ ‘Hey! Keep it light, Man. I’m just tryin’ to keep it cool. I mean, yoo cool, Man, yoo talk the talk totally not like the last Dude who came here. When we first eyeballed Man, I could dig you didn’t dig the total of what was in my mind to say Man, so I had to take some action, yeah? Rolled down the Shaping Centre, made some changes, ya dig? – So as ta talk the talk Man like you Dude?’ ‘No not really but didn’t they teach you nothin’ more than “Man,” “Dude,” “Cool” and “Dig?”’ ‘For sure Dude! Lotsa cool thin’s but I ain’t had no place to try ‘em out, Man.’ ‘Such as?’ ‘”Awesome” – like when can I use that?’ ‘Well, it’s kinda like “cool” except more amazing.’ ‘”Amazing” – that was another one.’ ‘Yeah “amazing,” “ace,” “fantastic,” any of ‘em’ll do.’ ‘Wow! How brilliant is that?’ ‘Yeah that too.’ ‘Sweet, Man.’ ‘No “sweet” is more “cool,” not so amazing.’ ‘Respect!’ ‘Ta!’ ‘No, Man when do I use that?’ ‘Oh! Eh! When a dude’s done stuff you really eh! … admire.’ 142

Realland ‘Oh! Sweet! Respect!’ ‘Ta!’ ‘And “diss,” is that the opposite of respect?’ ‘Yeah! sort of.’ ‘Hey! Am I right or what? And “mingin”?’ ‘Real bad.’ ‘Like “pants,” Man?’ ‘Sorta, but worse.’ ‘”Get-a-life” - what about that?’ ‘Huh! Like Dr Girl, she should get a life, as should totally everyone here.’ Rah ignored the insult. ‘”Tell it to the hand”?’ ‘”I’m not listenin’.”’ ‘Oh! Sorry Man, I didn’t mean to diss you.’ ‘You didn’t – that’s what it means.’ ‘Lush!’ ‘No, Man, “lush” don’t fit there.’ ‘Oh! Gotcha – that was lush…NOT!’ ‘No, that ain’t doin’ it either.’ ‘”Tell it like it is”?’ ‘Yeah that’s what I’m tryin’ to do but I’m afraid your talkin’-the-talk is very much a work-in-progress.’ ‘Cool, Man. Just tryin’ to keep it real.’ Yeah! Me too. Just wish I could again - I mean real real - not like what I’m goin’ through.’ 143

TOX ‘Maybe you can help me out there, as we go?’ Rah continued. As we go? I’ve no intention of been round here that long. Tox had had enough. ‘Whatever - yeah! Look, I need to know, is there someone we can go to, someone I can ask how to get out of here – someone with a phone or something’ – so I can call my mum?’ ‘A mopho?’ ‘Yeah a mopho, like mine - that you lost - or a landline - anything.’ ‘Wow! A new musthave? – High-tech? – keep ‘em comin’ Dude. That’s the way I learn. What’s a landline?’ ‘It’s a …’ Chef! If he don’t know then he won’t know where there is one. ‘Oh! Never mind that. Look I got in here so I must be able to get back, right?’ ‘Sure Dude, there are lots of portals all over Realland, we just gotta find the right one, Man. Wysiwii for example, has loads! Hmm! but not sure we can use ‘em. But we’ll find the right one Man, no worries.’ Wysiwii – that’s where …. Ria said she was from. ‘Isn’t there someone we could ask?’ ‘Well…. the Dude that comes to mind Man, is Grayend, but…’ ‘No way!’ Tox shuddered at the thought. ‘There must be someone else?’ ‘I’m thinkin’ Man, I’m thinkin’ but …’ Despairing at Rah’s lack of ability to come up with someone, Tox looked out beyond where Rah stood. The sky was now mostly blue with only a couple of puffy white clouds. Though where they were was in shade, the sun was shining brightly on the scene before him. Tox stood up and walked to the 144

Realland drop-edge of the path. They had climbed clear of the line of trees and bushes that had sheltered their path earlier. Tox took in a full panorama – and what a view it was. Up to now Tox had secretly harboured the hopes that because this place might be Ireland - which it reminded him of - even though it was a long way from home, he would soon find someone who could help him – maybe contact the helmets. The helmets could then phone Mum back home in England. But these hopes evaporated with what he then saw before him. There was the round topped mountain and the lake that he had noticed before. But now he could see that the lake was enormous. It stretched off into the haze of distance like an ocean. And the forest-footed mountain was only the nearest and smallest of a huge range that swept away in ever higher folds. Tox’s eyes were drawn to the peaks that formed the backdrop half way up the skyscape. These were covered in dazzling white snow down twothirds of their visible height. Unable to climb over, fluffy white clouds girthed their midriffs like cotton wool round dark Santa hats. Streams of snow blew off the pointed tops like wispy lace pennants. Tox looked away as he was beginning to feel dizzy again. He noticed that the sky was mostly a clear even blue. Most disconcertingly it was completely empty of jet-trails and any sign of aircraft. This definitely was not his world. ‘Well it’s not Ireland then,’ he said full of disappointment. ‘No Man, This is Realland,’ Rah answered matter-of-factly. ‘Huh? Oh! I was just thinking this is not like Ireland.’ ‘I know Man, this is definitely Realland.’ ‘Huh? Ok, whatever. Look! Can we get on to this Sh... eh! Centre?’ ‘Cool Dude,’ Rah said enthusiastically as he turned and bounded up the inclining track. Tox trudged in silence up several more turns and lengths of track, Rah always six or seven paces ahead. Occasionally Tox glanced back out over the panorama but stopped doing this after a while, as the alien nature of what he saw began to make him feel ill. Eventually overhead, the greater detail 145

TOX visible on the long curved ridge of the side of the mountain they were ascending, seemed to indicate that they were nearing the top. Before they got there Tox nearly fell backwards, as he was startled by a large bird of prey that came over the ridge-edge just ahead of them and which then soared on fixed wings with only the fingers at the wing tips moving in the wind. Its huge hooked beak was a deep orange, which contrasted with the overall grey of its plumage. It turned its head so that it stared down on Tox with a single stern orange-ringed eye full of suspicion. Tox could hear the whistle of wind on its feathers and noticed that in its claws it gripped a limp dark-brown furry animal. Tox immediately felt great empathy with what ever this was, although he couldn’t think exactly why. After a couple of seconds the eagle lost interest and turned to follow the edge of the mountain ridge into the distance. The odd couple resumed their trek. A few minutes later Rah turned to Tox. ‘Sweet Man, nearly there. I got visual from here.’ ‘Good!’ Sure enough, moments later, as Tox came puffing up to join Rah, his eyes took in a newly revealed panorama on the other side of the ridge. The ridge itself swept round in an extended arc that sloped gradually down to a city.

146

Lead

14 Lead

Siobhan was understandably restless. Carole eventually persuaded her that going out in the streets to search for Terence herself was not a good idea. Siobhan argued that with PC Begum outside the front door, she didn’t need to stay and do nothing, just in case Terence returned of his own accord. ‘I could give PC Begum my mobile number and ask her to call me when Terence returns.’ ‘But Terence will need you, his mum, here if - I mean when - he comes back,’ Carole reasoned. ‘That’s rubbish and you know it!’ Siobhan yelled. ‘So what do you have in mind exactly?’ ‘I don’t know….. go to that school…go to this St Wilson’s,’ Siobhan shouted in frustration. ‘And what then, exactly? Bully some kids into telling you what you want to hear?’ Carole shouted back, her exhaustion causing her to loose it. Siobhan fell silent. ‘Leave it to the police. They’re supposed to be the experts,’ Carole finished gradually restoring a more reasoned tone to her voice by lowering the pitch and volume. Carole put her arm around Siobhan again. Siobhan returned to sobbing openly with all her heart. 147

TOX Carole made more coffee. As they sat there sipping it she realised she hadn’t offered any to PC Begum on guard out front. Carole rose and went to the front door. When she opened it, PC Begum was stood stiffly with her back to her. She only glanced briefly over her shoulder at Carole as she was engaged in conversation with five or six people. Further back more people were stood in loose groupings. Carole recognised some of these as neighbours. A flash bulb went off blinding Carole temporally. ‘Mrs. O’Shea,’ a short woman in a pink overcoat with a neat blond bob shouted, as she tried to peer past PC Begum. ‘Any news on your son Terence?’ ‘Leave it!’ PC Begum ordered. A man’s head appeared on the other side of PC Begum. ‘The BBC, Mrs. O’Shea,’ he began urgently. ‘That’s not ‘ur.’ a woman’s voice shouted from the pavement behind him. The man continued anyway. ‘Have you anything to say to whoever…’ Carole slammed the door as another flash blasted her eyes. ‘You definitely do not want to go out there,’ she told Siobhan through gritted teeth, on returning to the kitchen, then went on to explain why. At 12.30 Siobhan wanted to risk the TV news again. Carole’s objections were jaded and weak, so they did. There was nothing new, just more wild speculation and painful references to other cases. It was very odd for Siobhan to see her home filmed from outside, with her neighbours and the just-curious standing round in front of PC Begum. PC Begum looks even smaller and chubbier on TV, Carole thought. ‘Those kids should be in school,’ Carole said before she was stunned to silence on seeing the footage of herself at the door not long before. I look chubbier too! And older! 148

Lead Just after one o’clock Carole phoned the police station at the request of Siobhan. “Officers are making enquiries at St. Wilson’s school as we speak. We will let Mrs. O’Shea know as soon as there is any significant development.” Carole phoned again at 2.30. The reply was the same almost word for word. At five past three the doorbell rang. Siobhan and Carole didn’t rush to answer it as they feared it would probably be reporters. But the caller was persistent, ringing again and again in quick succession. When Carole finally answered it, it was Sergeant Radlett with PC Begum and two other officers. One was very tall, blond, with thin high cheekbones that featured strongly on his face. The other was a woman with her dark brown hair tied in a bun, which her hat seemed to depend on for support. Looking out over Sergeant Radlett’s shoulder Carole could see that the melee outside the front door had not diminished since earlier. ‘May we come in?’ Sergeant Radlett enquired. Carole nodded and stood back opening the door wider. Only Sergeant Radlett and PC Begum entered. The two newly arrived officers turned round and stood side by side, hands behind their backs facing the muttering crowd. Carole tried to gauge from the officers’ expressions whether she should brace herself to deal with the aftermath of bad news, but she couldn’t tell. Sergeant Radlett and PC Begum were too well rehearsed in keeping deadpan faces. After a minimal exchange of greetings Sergeant Radlett got straight down to the business of their visit. ‘Does your son Terence know anybody from the Waterfront District?’ Siobhan’s eyes flitted from side to side as she desperately tried to think. Her exhausted mind so wanted to be able to say “yes” - to be able to contribute to a breakthrough – to help them find her beloved son. The Waterfront? That’s over two miles away. Think! Think! She commanded herself. ‘No!’ she eventually announced disappointedly. ‘At least not that I know of.’ 149

TOX Now she felt guilty again for not knowing her son better, for being such a poor mother. They might even report me to the Social Services when all this is over. Siobhan choked back the tears. ‘Why?’ she asked nervously. Sergeant Radlett blinked rapidly. ‘Oh! We’re following up a possible lead. Eh! I believe there may have been a possible sighting in that area. Officers are investigating as we speak,’ she said awkwardly. ‘Where in the Waterfront District?’ Siobhan demanded. ‘That I can’t say.’ ‘Can’t or won’t?’ Carole chipped in aggressively. ‘Look, as soon as we know anything for sure, we will let you know.’ Sergeant Radlett said regaining her assertive tone. Then she turned directly to Siobhan. ‘Now are you certain Terence doesn’t know anybody in that area? It may be important.’ Siobhan shook her head. PC Begum suppressed a smile at how her colleague had successfully manoeuvred the discussion away from the awkward questions. Shortly afterwards the officers left, once again promising to contact Siobhan as soon as there were any further developments.

Half an hour after Sgt Radlett and PC Begum had left, Siobhan and Carole discovered more of the truth. At a loss for anything constructive to do, Siobhan turned the TV news on again. First thing they saw was the shaky view from a camera following a well-built police officer dressed in yellow waders that came all the way up to form one-piece overalls. Off camera, a 150

Lead breathless reporter was directing questions at the officer’s broad back as he waddled ahead at a steady pace without acknowledging their presence. ‘Can you tell us what the significance of this find is?’ The officer didn’t reply and continued to ignore the wasp-like camera, showing a shot of his right ear to the nation. The officer walked through the only gap in a quickly improvised enclosure created by blue and white plastic tape draped between lampposts and railings. Two police officers then barred the camera and presumably the reporter, from following. The reporter started to direct his questions at the two officers blocking his progress but their practised blank expressions instantly indicated that this was futile. The scene cut to another camera. This time the view was a long shot from across the breadth of the river. There were square commercial buildings on the opposite side, dark against the increasing gloom of the encroaching evening. As the camera’s telescopic lens gradually focused further and further in, it picked out figures in white and orange overalls. They were moving about carefully as they tried to keep their balance while standing up in two grey and orange dinghies. They were at the foreboding mouth of what looked like an old arched Victorian sewer outflow, built into the dark black and green tidal stained brickwork of the quay-side. Two of the distant figures had climbed up into the dark hole. The camera showed sparks flying out like a Catherine Wheel from where these figures stooped. At full lens magnification, Carole and Siobhan could just make out that the figures were working on a metal gate or grill. The accompanying commentary was in solemn tones: ‘Although at this stage, the police are still refusing to say what they have discovered here, a source close to the investigation has told us that it is a mobile phone, which they believe may belong to the missing boy, Terence O’Shea. Our communications expert informs us that it is possible that the police were able to use the network supplier to track down its whereabouts and that the results have led them to this dreary scene. It is still too early to jump to conclusions but looking at how the police are trying to cut their way 151

TOX into the tunnel, they may believe that the missing boy is located somewhere in the vast maze of passageways that lurk beyond. We estimate this location to be more than two miles from the home of the missing O’Shea boy, so we may have to wait for a police statement to discover exactly what the significance is of this latest development.’ Before Carole could react Siobhan was on her feet and rushing from the front room. ‘Where are you going?’ Siobhan didn’t answer. Her mouth tight with resolve, she already had her pink overcoat on by the time Carole followed her into the hallway. ‘Where are you going? What do you think you’ll be able to do? Siobhan turned away sharply and twisted the handle on the front door Yale lock. She swung the door open aggressively then froze, shocked by the scene that confronted her. Faces stared at her from all sides. Camera flashes immediately assaulted her sore eyes. The tall blond police officer glanced nervously over his shoulder at Siobhan. Many eager faces found their voices all at once. ‘Mrs. O’Shea!’ ‘Mrs. O’Shea….’ ‘Have you…’ The crowd surged forward. ‘Oi! Back off!’ The female officer ordered without any apparent effect. More flashbulbs distorted the November greyness. The police officers were pushing back against the surge. Carole stepped forward and put her arm around the stunned Siobhan. She gently but firmly took Siobhan’s right hand off the knob of the lock and pushed the door closed against the backs of the two officers. ‘Come on, we’ll phone the station. It’ll be better than that. And we won’t take no for an answer.’ 152

Lead Siobhan nodded, still in shock. The duty officer at the station refused to give any information over the phone but said that Sgt Radlett was already making her way to speak to Siobhan and would be there within minutes. Eight minutes later Sgt Radlett and PC Begum were straightening their uniforms after the push through the siege of bodies outside. ‘What’s going on? What have you found? It’s all over the TV. Why didn’t you call me?’ Siobhan exploded. ‘I’m sorry you found out that way but we wanted to be sure – certain - of the significance. We didn’t want to raise false hopes.’ ‘But you promised!’ Siobhan said tearfully. ‘Yeah and we seem to be the last to know. What exactly is going on?’ Carole interjected angrily. ‘Look, we tried tracing your son’s mobile phone and at first it turned up blank but suddenly there was a signal which we eventually traced to the Waterfront District. That’s why I asked you earlier if he knew anyone there. Anyway our experts kept honing in on the signal and eventually found your son’s mobile.’ ‘His mobile? But what about Terence?’ ‘No! Just his mobile - so far.’ ‘Oh!’ Siobhan shivered. ‘But there are hopeful signs,’ Sgt Radlett continued. ‘It was found at the outlet of one of the old Victorian sewers. It was in an old ice-cream container and we think that your son may have placed it there. One theory is that he may have tried to hide and got stuck where he couldn’t get a signal. He’s a bright boy. He may have realised that if he could get his phone to float to where there was a signal we might pick it up, if we were looking for him – which we did.’ ‘So how long will it take you to get him out?’ 153

TOX ‘There are miles and miles of passageways stretching off in all directions and an extensive search is already on going. You’ve got to understand it’s like an enormous maze down there. Each tunnel has its own nooks and crannies – all of which have to be searched systematically. But we will find him Mrs. O’Shea. It would be useful if we could get a better idea of where he went in. We are still following up another lead.’ ‘What’s that then?’ Carole asked. ‘The boys from St Wilson’s that we suspect were looking for Terence outside St Thatcher’s yesterday afternoon, they may know where he was when he went missing and that information would be very helpful in considerably narrowing our search.’ ‘So what’s the problem?’ asked Carole. ‘They appear to have gone AWOL. They skipped classes this afternoon and none of them have turned up at their homes nor been in contact with their families. So an extensive search is on going in the Downtown area. We will get the little brats don’t worry about that! And be assured Mrs. O’Shea, we will find your son – we will find Terence.’ Carole looked down at the floor and scolded herself mentally for noticing that Sgt Radlett had not included the word ‘alive.’

154

WYSIWII

15 WYSIWII

The city below was spread out like an enormous beached jellyfish that had swallowed a giant multi-limbed grey starfish. For at the centre of this metropolis, was a huge building with a circular centre from which regularly spaced fingers radiated right out to the edges of the city itself. The entire structure of this building seemed to be made of a uniform grey concrete, with windows regularly space along each side indicating that each of its fingers consisted of over twenty floors. Although still a discouragingly long way off, Tox could see that between the splayed fingers there were streets of what looked like houses and shops. These were tall, four or five stories and were all of similar design, with an exterior of white plaster and dark brown wooden beams like a Swiss cottage. The scale of the central building was hard to comprehend. Its flat grey concrete roof contrasted with the orange-red tiles on the sloped roofs of the dwellings, which were constructed to fit neatly in wedged shaped blocks in the gaps between the huge fingers of the spurs. It all looked so regular it reminded Tox of a huge grey, orange, brown and cream Union Jack flag. ‘Well?’ Rah said smiling with self-satisfaction and revealing his pointed teeth. ‘Didn’t I tell ya?’ ‘Where is this?’ ‘Wysiwii - The main city of Realland.’ ‘Wizziwee – that’s where Ria came from.’ 155

TOX ‘Who’s this Ria dude, Dude?’ ‘She …. I met her in that Dr Girl’s place – that you left me in – Hey I’ve been meanin’ to have a word with you about that. What the hell did you think… ‘ ‘Hey Dude, I thought you were in a hurry, Man. We can rap later, yeah?’ ‘Yeah but... Ok! Ok! Right....And this shopping centre?’ ‘No Man, Shaping Centre.’ Rah pointed to the huge grey building. ‘That’s it.’ ‘And what’s gonna happen there huh?’ ‘Eh…. we’ll check out a makeover for you Dude – make you less hi-vis, Man – and we can check out the portals' scene, yeah? – maybe get us outa here.’ ‘Us?’ ‘Yeah, Dude – Realland’s Zerosville for me Man – I need a new gig, Man, where things still happen – not like here – Morguesville for sure, Man.’ ‘There’s too much happening here, if you ask me.’ ‘Like what exactly?’ ‘Like Grayend, Adam’n’Ever’s Square – everything!’ ‘You call them happenin’? You come across as a dude who knows a business opportunity when it happens, yeah?’ ‘Well yeah!’ ‘Well here they ain’t – zeros, zilch! I thought that’s why you wanted out so bad – you know business commitments to attend to, Man.’ ‘No, I …’ Tox felt too embarrassed to admit he mostly missed Mum. ‘Right - ok! So this Centre thing - how do we get into it?’ ‘Down here. Let’s go, Man Let’s see about getting your makeover.’ 156

WYSIWII With his eyes Tox followed down the scar in the mountain side made by the track that Rah had indicated they should follow. Although the city looked to be about a mile and a half directly below, the track wound back and forth and back and forth adding several miles to the distance they would have to cover. Frustration followed by despair descended on him like a huge space ship from the ‘Fourth of July’ movie. ‘It’ll take hours.’ ‘Not if you do your trick again Dude,’ Rah said enthusiastically with a broad knowing grin. ‘What trick? Oh! That! Look I’m tired of all this. I just want it to be over, yeah? Why does everything always have to be so difficult? I just want some help – some proper help, do you hear?’ Tox was angry again. ‘I reckon Wysiwii’s our best bet Man.’ Rah said placing his little hand on his friend Tox’s arm to calm him. ‘So make it so, Man.’ Suddenly everything blurred in a rush. As before, Tox felt a jolt in his stomach

and

head.

Overwhelming

nausea

then

dominated

Tox’s

consciousness. He could hear Rah’s excited squeak nearby. ‘Awesome Dude, truly awesome! Even better than the first time, Man. Amazing! Ace! How brilliant was that?’ Tox became aware of something cold and soft against his right cheek. As his vision began to clear he could see something greyish close in front of his eyes. Looking through the corner of his eyes he saw his face was resting on something brown. With great effort he managed to raise his head which felt like it was attached to the rest of his body by a loose Jack-in-the-box spring. He was lying on recently turned brown soil. ‘Yo! Dude! You truly got it! Magic Man! Total respect! Ace magic!’

157

TOX Tox could not yet speak. As he tried to steady the images spinning around him like a three-dimensional TV screen on the blink, he realised that he was in some kind of garden. The greyish object that had been too close to focus on, he saw was a cauliflower but with grey bits where he normally would have expected green. There were several other cauliflowers nearby but strangely not arranged in rows like he was used to seeing on the allotments back home. Instead these were mixed up with other plants and shrubs that Tox didn’t recognise. Together they formed regular patterns stretching out across the expanse of the garden, to look like mini versions of the city as he had seen it from up on the ridge not long before. For no reason he knew, Tox reached out to touch the cauliflower he had so nearly landed upon. ‘No, Man!’ Rah shouted. ‘Whatcha doin’? You’ll get us busted, Man!’ ‘What?’ Tox turned his head too quickly and cranked up his nausea and dizziness again. ‘It’s a vegetable.’ ‘No Man! So not cool! It’s protected. Heavy scenes Man!’ Rah was nodding to his left. Tox widened his eyes to try and improve his focus. After a few moments he could make out two rotund figures dressed in combinations of grey, orange, brown and white. They were standing resting on garden hoes, about thirty feet away on the other side of path and they were staring sternly at Tox and Rah. Tox pulled his hand sharply away from the cauliflower. Rah rose smartly to his feet and offered Tox a helping hand, which he accepted. Tox staggered as he rose and Rah had to lean hard in the opposite direction to prevent Tox from falling back down and damaging the surrounding plants. With Rah leading Tox by the hand, they carefully picked their way over towards the path where the two figures stood motionless. 158

WYSIWII ‘Eh! Sorry!’ Tox said as they approached the stern figures. ‘I didn’t mean it. I mean it’s a vegetable and we grow them just to eh! eat.’ Rah’s eyes widened in horror at what he had just heard. ‘Eh! Sorry Dudes! A Falsesider – eh! in need of urgent treatment.’ Tox could now see that although both of the men wore the same colours, their clothes were in fact variations on a theme. One wore a jumper with grey and orange stripes where the other wore a thick shirt with the same colours in hoops. Where the first wore brown trousers tucked into cream coloured socks and brown shoes, the other had grey trousers, brown socks and white clogs to match his white knitted hat. The colour schemes of their clothes blended into the coloured patterns planted all around the garden – even the pathway was constructed of tiles in the same four colours. ‘Huh!’ the man on the left said as the pair of strangers stepped embarrassedly up onto the path. Without stopping Rah turned Tox to the right and started them descending. ‘Nice to meet you Dudes but we gotta fly.’ Not again! Tox thought dizzily as he looked drunkenly back and waved goodbye weakly. Rah supported Tox as they staggered the twenty yards or so towards a courtyard in front of a concave structure made mostly of terracotta coloured glass that formed the end of one of the spurs of the giant building that so dominated the city. As his head began to clear Tox glanced at the nearest buildings on either side of the Shaping Centre spur. There were people at the windows and on balconies, all dressed in variations of the ubiquitous four colours. Most had stopped whatever they were doing to stare at the new arrivals. Tox looked at himself and Rah and understood why they were attracting so much attention. Tox looked at the blue of his school blazer, his yellow shirt and black trousers. I stick out like a clown at a Goth gig’ 159

TOX He looked at Rah bounding down a few steps in front of him. At least his brown hoody fits in - sort of. Tox regained his autonomy and hurried across the courtyard to escape the glare of inquisitive eyes. In the middle of the terracotta coloured glass structure there was a swivelling door through which both Rah and Tox entered using just a single segment of the four available. Now they were on a marble floor with an inlaid pattern, again similar to the view of the Shaping Centre and city, as they had seen them from the ridge above. Rah made straight for an unmanned desk over which hung a faded sign: ‘RECEPTION FOR NON-SOMNAMBULIST VISITORS.’ There was a bell button on the desk that Rah pressed without hesitation. Tox heard nothing. ‘What are you doing?’ Tox was annoyed that Rah had taken to doing stuff without consulting him. Before Rah could answer, a door opened in the creamy-white wall behind the desk. A man’s head appeared in the gap wearing an orange baseball cap. On seeing Rah his eyes expanded in surprised recognition. ‘Mr. Tuss! Back again so soon.’ He stepped through the doorway. ‘Nothing wrong with the treatment, I hope?’ ‘No Man, it’s cool.’ ‘Good, good! But I see you’ve brought a friend. And he’s conscious!’ the little man said clearly surprised. ‘Very unusual for a citizen from Falseside.’ ‘What are you on about?’ Tox said annoyed at being talked about rather than to. ‘Oh I am sorry sir, very sorry.’ Then without actually looking at Rah he moved round from behind the desk ‘Mr. Tuss, where are your manners? You have neglected to introduce me to your friend.’ 160

WYSIWII ‘Sorry Man.’ The man arrived in front of Tox and presented his stubby little hand to Tox. He was only a couple of inches taller than Tox but was considerably fatter with a much bigger head. He wore a jumper of orange-red and grey hoops, white shin-length trousers, brown socks and a large dark brown belt that clashed with his grey bulb-toed clogs. ‘My name is Mr. Nick but everyone calls me by my first name Macca.’ ‘Tox,’ Tox said slightly phased and offering a weak hand grip. ‘Pleased to meet you I’m sure,’ Macca said giving Tox’s fingers a hearty shake as he turned to look at Rah. ‘So what can we do for you this time?’ ‘It’s not for me Man but the Dude needs help, and pronto.’ ‘Oh?’ ‘The Dude’s rustled Grayend.’ Macca puckered his lips and sucked in his breath noisily while shaking his head. ‘Not good, not good – unless you got a powerful need. Are you ill?’ Tox was worried by Macca’s reaction and didn’t know what to say, so Rah interjected. ‘He didn’t know, Man. Can he have a makeover, be disguised or something?’ ‘To fool Grayend? Hmm! I doubt it. But I suspect we will be compelled by our sense of duty and service to give it a bash.’ Macca pulled his head back and looked Tox up and down. ‘Well Mr. Tox, we’ll have to get your file. This way please.’ Macca turned towards the door through which he had come earlier. The odd couple followed him silently into a long room. Here Tox saw four computer screens and banks and banks of what looked like CPU’s. A small woman sitting in front of a screen looked up as they entered. She was dressed 161

TOX identically to Macca. She looked surprised to see them, adjusted her posture in her chair to a more upright one, and then gave a half-smile. ‘This is Mr. Tuss and Mr. Tox - and this is Sue Port.’ The woman smiled shyly again, then gestured her hair back with her small right hand even though it had not actually been across her face. ‘They should both show up as former customers I suspect, but we only need the file for Mr. Tox. Once you’ve found him can you down-load it onto my palmer please?’ Sue nodded and turned her attention back to her screen. Tox looked around the room. The strip lighting provided the only white shade but otherwise the colour scheme followed the standard they had seen everywhere outside. There were no pictures or posters on the walls. The windows were of clear glass and were over looked by several blocks of apartments. Tox noticed several residents trying to peer in from their balconies at the two new curiosities. ‘Nothing here for a Mr. Tox,’ Sue’s feminine voice brought Tox’s attention back in to the room. ‘Oh right!’ Tox said embarrassed that he hadn’t thought of saying something earlier. ‘Eh! That might be because Tox is not my real name.’ Macca looked at Rah and rolled his eyes upwards. ‘Falsesiders! What are they like? Never mind eh! I should have asked. It’s not the first time and I’m sure it won’t be the last. I suppose it’s understandable as we often advise a name change as part of the extensive services we provide to our customers here. So what then Sir, is your surname or family name, if you would be so kind?’ Macca asked with a quizzical lift of his heavy grey eyebrows. ‘O’Shea,’ Tox replied meekly. ‘O’Shea, O’Shea right, Tox O’Shea, did you get that Sue?’

162

WYSIWII Sue nodded. She was already interrogating the computer with her mouse and keyboard. ‘Eh!’ Tox said uncertainly. ‘Yes?’ Macca said as he and Sue looked at Tox expectantly. ‘Eh! It might not be under “Tox,” exactly.’ ‘Oh? And what might it be exactly?’ ‘Try “Terence”,’ Tox replied meekly. ‘That’s my real name.’ ‘”Terence” - right! Did you get that Sue?’ But Sue was already clicking away on her keyboard. ‘My goodness! Never mind eh! I expect our cross-references would have found you eventually – even using “Tox.” It’s quite distinctive after all.’ ‘Spur twenty-two, level six,’ Sue interrupted officiously. ‘Right! So it is,’ Macca said cheerfully, then gestured towards the door with a mellow dramatic bow. ‘Shall we go gentlemen?’ Silently the pair preceded Macca back into the empty echoing lobby. ‘Round to the left if you would, please gentlemen.’ At the centre of the curved wall there was a double door that hissed open on their arrival. As they went through Tox was immediately awe-struck. ‘Awesome!’ The room they had just entered was enormous. It wasn’t particularly high but it stretched away further than eyes could focus. Across the huge room there were rows and rows of conveyor belts, running in parallel to each other. Each one of these had chairs evenly spaced along its length. These seemed to be made of a see-through plastic and came up out of the orange floor where the brown and white conveyor-belts started. What Tox saw next made his jaw drop open even further. A few feet further along the conveyor-belts and right across the width of the room, people seemed to be materialising onto the chairs out of nowhere. One after 163

TOX another, first the chair was empty, then a ghostly figure appeared, then this image got stronger and stronger until the person looked real. Tox looked along the room. Wow! There are thousands of them. Each one was sitting on a conveyor belt chair that was slowly taking them down the long room away from where the three were stood. ‘This way lads,’ Macca directed moving off to the left. ‘It’s so big!’ ‘It is that, but luckily we have transport,’ Macca replied over his shoulder as he went. When they eventually arrived in the corner of the room Macca introduced them to an orange-red buggy with a metal frame and brown wheels with large white tyres. Rah excitedly hopped up onto the front passenger seat which meant that Tox had to make do with the back seat. ‘Everyone holding on?’ Macca queried and then, without waiting for an answer, pushed a lever down with his right hand. After a stutter the opentopped vehicle moved forward to the hum of a battery-drive. At no great pace they moved along a straight path between the grey coloured wall and the nearest people conveyor-belt. Tox noticed that the people on the conveyors were different from anyone else he had seen since arriving in Wysiwii. For a start they wore a huge variety of costumes and – most noticeably colours – far more than the ubiquitous four of Wysiwii. There were people all in leathers, others all in denim, some in track suits, others in suits of varying colours, some in smart casual, football/baseball/rugby/basketball in fact almost every sporting design and colours. There were Punks, Goths, people with turbans, fezzes, baseball caps, kilts, saris, togas - costumes from all over the world – everything, as far as Tox could make out. Tox focused in on some of their faces. There were men, women, girls, boys and even some older people and toddlers. Most oddly they all seemed 164

WYSIWII to be in some sort of trance. Many had their eyes closed while others stared straight ahead blankly and unfocused. Tox began to worry. What’s going on? What’s with all these guys? ‘Treatment!’ Macca said ‘All here from the Falseside for treatment.’ ‘But they’re asleep?’ Tox said ignoring the fact that Macca had answered what he had only thought. ‘Of course, Mr. O’Shea! The vast majority of our clients are. It makes for an easier life. You and Mr. Tuss here are rare exceptions – curiosities indeed!’ Tox now noticed more of Macca’s people up on the conveyor belts, They were carefully examining the entranced Falsesiders. ‘What are they doing?’ ‘Examining the order dockets, you know, to see what treatment has been requested or making an assessment, checking what has been done on previous visits.’ ‘What dockets? I can’t see no dockets.’ Without warning Macca pulled up the lever to his side and all three lurched forward as the buggy came to an abrupt halt. Macca jumped out and stepped up onto the adjacent conveyor belt. ‘Come on, I’ll show you,’ he ordered standing by an occupied chair. Tox and Rah jumped down from the buggy and walked forward the short distance the slow-moving conveyor had travelled since Macca had ascended onto it. A small Wysiwiian woman, who had been examining the occupant of the chair, stood back allowing space for Tox and Rah to get close. Soon all three were standing by the chair. Tox looked at the occupant but was careful not to touch. It was a girl, perhaps a year or two older than he was. She was breathing. ‘She looks totally real - too real!’

165

TOX She was dressed in a green pleated school uniform with a cream coloured shirt and socks and a loosely tied school tie striped in two shades of green. She had a silver chain around her neck that supported a little heart-shaped silver locket. Tox felt uncomfortable. He had never stood so close to anybody before without having to engage with him or her in conversation or maintain eye contact. He pulled back afraid he was too close, as his nose detected a mild warm fragrance of perfumed soap mixed with something else. The girl’s eyes were hazel and stared straight ahead. There was no acknowledgement of Tox or anybody else. To Tox’s instinctive horror Macca reached forward towards the girl’s pale smooth neck. ‘Here! Look!’ The air near the chain on the girl’s neck rippled. Now Macca’s stubby fingers held some sort of very thin transparent sheet, where moments before Tox had been looking straight at the silver chain around the girl’s neck. ‘What’s that?’ ‘It’s the order docket for her treatment.’ ‘But there’s nothing on it.’ ‘Oh but there is – if you can read it! Here feel it.’ Tox overcame his instinctive reluctance and moved cautiously closer. He took the barely visible docket delicately in the tips of his fingers. It felt like soft silk but even finer. ‘See?’ ‘Well no! What am I looking for exactly?’ ‘Lighten your touch. You should feel little bumps and indentations.’ Tox obeyed and suddenly they were there. ‘Oh yeah! I can feel them! What about them?’

166

WYSIWII ‘They’re the wish list – a description of what is required – to those of us who can read them of course.’ Macca reached forward again. Tox let go of the invisible docket as Macca took it in his fingers. ‘This one for example…..’ Macca paused, as his fingers seemed to be sifting thin air. ‘Ah yes! A fairly common case! Charlotte it is - started in a new school yesterday and is already being bullied by other girls.’ ‘So what’s new?’ ‘Very common, as I said,’ Macca replied. Then staring into nothingness he continued. ‘Anyway, Charlotte here, has had to change schools as she has just moved home with her parents. Daddy lost his job in the city – couldn’t afford the mortgage, school fees, four-wheel-drive, etc. etc. – had to downgrade. Charlotte here started her new school totally unprepared – accent inappropriate – posture all wrong - too assertive from years of relating and competing in company with very different attitudes and values to those of her new schoolmates - requires urgent adjustment in all these areas.’ Tox was amazed. ‘How come you can read so much on just bumps and dimples?’ ‘Oh! There’s much more detail than that. I’ve just been skimming. It wouldn’t be polite to read out everything. You know - client confidentiality and all that. I’m sure we all have things that we would prefer to keep secret.’ Macca looked down his nose at Tox. Tox blushed with embarrassment without knowing why. ‘But what are you going to do to her?’ ‘For her! Do for her!’ Macca corrected before going on to explain.

167

TOX ‘We’ll make the required adjustments – hunch her shoulders forward for a start – make her appear less arrogant, more deferential to her new peers – perhaps a slight list as she walks, will be more acceptable in her new companions’ eyes – definitely tone down the accent – broaden the consonances, add the latest cool words and a swear word or two – change her smile so that it doesn’t look so smug - and lots more to help her to be less offensive to those who now count in her new life.’ Tox nodded in silent understanding. ‘But how did .. what’s her name… Charlotte know to come here?’ ‘To be honest I don’t know! You Falsesiders just do, somehow, unconsciously. Perhaps that’s why you don’t remember being here – mostly. I’m not sure that most Falsesiders even know what they want themselves. Perhaps it’s the bullies in the Falseside that draft the treatment dockets? I don’t know - never been there. Perhaps you could tell me?’ Macca looked at Tox. Tox thought for a moment. ‘Eh! No. I never seen no one writing one of those – in fact I’ve never seen one of those docket things before in my life.’ ‘Maybe they’re hidden or disguised. Lots of things are hidden on the Falseside.’ ‘No they’re not! What I mean is I’m not from no ‘Falseside’. I’m from the real world. And anyway how would you know? You just said you ain’t ever been there.’ ‘Oh no Mr. O’Shea! This is Realland where things are what they are. And this is its capital city Wysiwii: What You See Is What It Is. The good folk here don’t go pretending to be what they are not. Not like Falsesiders who pretend they are happy when they are sad, carefree when hurt, cool when terrified, tough when weak, tall when short, smart when dumb, rich when poor, a friend when a foe, I could go on.’ Macca looked quizzically at Tox. 168

WYSIWII ‘Yeah but…’ Tox was finding it hard to disagree. Macca decided to continue anyway. ‘And that is what keeps all the good folk of Wysiwii employed - because you Falsesiders need to be something that you are not. That’s what we do. That’s the service we provide to the citizens of the Falseside, helping you to be what you are not. Look at this chap.’ Macca walked back along the conveyor belt to a young man sat on the next seat back. The Wysiwiian who was attending him nodded silent acknowledgement to Macca as he arrived then stood back out of the way as Tox and Rah arrived. ‘Look at this chap.’ Tox looked. Once again the youth sat before them had his eyes open but apparently without seeing. His face had a faint stubble. He was dressed in tight jeans - slightly faded. His hair consisted of red curls, short at both sides and longer on top, loosely held to a peak in the centre by some sort of gel. He wore a blue tee shirt and a leather jacket – black with silver coloured metal studs around the cuffs. He reminds me of someone but I can’t think who. Macca was sifting his fingers along the invisible docket as he looked into the distance in concentration. ‘Ah yes! This chap is so discontent with what he is that he has chosen to change to being someone else altogether. Someone who isn’t even real themselves - a character in a television programme!’ ‘Nick the Flick!’ Tox exclaimed. ‘Oh you know him then do you?’ ‘Eh! No. I was trying to think who he reminded me of. It’s Nick the Flick, from Potter’s Posse. It’s a soap for kids on Channel Eighty-seven.’

169

TOX Tox leaned around Nick’s side to look at the back of his jacket. There, visible through the transparent back of the chair were the words ‘THE FLICK’ spelt out in metal studs. ‘So you know who this customer wants to be then?’ ‘Huh! Pathetic!’ Tox snorted quietly, very aware that the person was alive and right there with him. ‘It seems a very common phenomenon among you Falsesiders. Lots of you seem sure that life will be immeasurably improved if you look, move and act more like someone else – sports stars, musicians, politicians, historical characters, TV actors, you name it. We get requests for the lot. For other’s it’s wanting to have Mum’s or Dad’s traits, or a big sister’s, or copying a friend or even an enemy. We Wysiwiians don’t claim to understand it. We just do as requested.’ ‘Yeah! Man!’ Rah interjected. ‘This is where I learnt how to talk-the-talk, walkthe-walk. You gotta know what shapes to throw, Man you got know how to rep-yoh-end.’ Tox was dumbstruck. He had never thought about things in this way before. He looked around the great hall full of activity with thousands of Wysiwiians working away on the entranced visitors from his world. Some were out of their chairs and were being manipulated like mechanical shop-window dummies by their attendant Wysiwiian’s. Some were being choreographed in how to slouch forward when they walked, others were being shown how to hold their heads in a particular way or throw an arm out in front with certain fingers folded in and others stuck out. So many people! Following some unspoken signal from Macca, Rah and Tox jumped down from the slow moving conveyor and walked back with him towards their buggy. ‘Why do you do it?’ Tox asked. 170

WYSIWII ‘Oh! It’s a pleasure to provide a service,’ Macca replied cheerfully. It’s out of the kindness of our hearts!’ ‘And the gis Man, don’t forget the gis,’ Rah piped in. ‘Oh! Yes that.’ Macca’s tone of voice tried to trivialise Rah’s suggestion. ‘What’s gis?’ ‘Oh! A minor by-product of the treatment process – the effect of which is mildly pleasing to Wysiwiians.’ ‘Mildly pleasing?’ Rah piped in again, ‘Its what you Dudes live on!’ ‘Well yes.’ Macca’s tone again implied trying to play down the importance of whatever it was they were talking about. ‘What is this gis? Ria said she lived on it.’ ‘Oh you met Ria then? How is the little child?’ ‘She was in a bad way when I last saw her.’ ‘Oh that’s a shame!’ Macca’s tone did not contain any genuine concern. ‘She seems a nice girl – more than a little on the wild side but nice all the same.’ ‘She was lost and in need of help – she needs some of this gis – so what is it?’ Again Rah answered. ‘It’s what you Fal…. It’s what you dudes don’t need anymore Man, after the treatment. ‘Cos you only move in certain ways and limit your facial expressions to the few you choose you don’t need all that flexibility and energy. It gotta go somewhere, so the Wysiwiians use it, Man.’ ‘What, bits you cut off?’ Tox said with clear disgust. 171

TOX ‘We don’t cut anything. We just do your bidding. We fix people the way they wish to be fixed. Where before they look or move in ways that others they wish to impress find offensive or uninteresting, we fix it so they don’t. And the freedom of movement or expression they no longer wish to use is bequeathed to us. A fair trade I’d say. Your kind get to do what you want and we get the ability to do things we couldn’t do before, like crazy dancing or snow-boarding.’ Macca pointed out the window to the snow-capped peaks in the distance. ‘A win-win arrangement!’ ‘Strange mountains!’ Tox said almost to himself as he was suddenly distracted. ‘Strange? Why do you think the mountains are strange?’ ‘You know, such a strange mixture of small round green ones next to huge sharp peaks. Are all your other mountains like this?’ ‘All our mountains? These are all our mountains! Why would we need any more?’ ‘You must have other mountains spread round your world.’ ‘Ha! What’s the point in that? All our mountains are here next to each other. Why would we spread them out anywhere else? It doesn’t make sense. What if some of the family wants to relax by walking the gentle slopes or to picnic in the woods while others wish to ski or mountain climb, how can they all meet up afterwards, if you spread the mountains out all over the place? You’re not trying to tell me that that’s the way you’ve done it in the Falseside, are you?’ ‘Well…’ ‘Ha! Ha! That must be very inconvenient, wouldn’t you agree, having them spread out all over the place. What have you done then - put all the green small ones together in one place and the tall snowy ones in another?’ ‘Maybe,’ Tox said trying to think. ‘But we didn’t make our mountains.’ 172

WYSIWII ‘Well who did then?’ ‘I don’t know - maybe nobody - maybe they’re just there. I don’t think anyone had anything to do with making our world.’ ‘Well that explains a lot. Otherwise you would have organised it better. I mean why make people different from what they need to be, for a start?’ Tox had no answer. The three were now back on board the buggy. Tox looked at Rah. He seemed to be, smiling as if amused by the conversation he had just heard. Macca dropped the lever and the buggy stuttered off again. Without looking at Tox, Macca began to philosophise. ‘I think the big difference between Reallanders and Falsesiders is in our basic values.’ ‘Oh! How I hate that word!’ ‘We Reallanders recognise that most things and people are basically very much the same and we value that. We celebrate our sameness. Where as you Falsesiders like to think you are each unique. You celebrate your differences, even though they are small compared to your similarities.’ Tox was thoroughly fed up. ‘What about people like Charlotte and Nick back there? What about them wanting to be more like their bullies?’ Tox parried. Now Macca was stuck for a reply. Rah started to giggle. Good! That’s shut him up! An awkward silence followed as the buggy trundled on. For the next few minutes Tox just observed the goings-on in the huge hall. He saw a young Wysiwiian boy up on the conveyor. He was assisting an adult Wysiwiian woman who was attending to a young woman dressed all in black. They seemed to be trying to get the young woman to smile sarcastically. Seeing the kid Tox was reminded of Ria. 173

TOX ‘Here! What about Ria – ain’t you gonna send a search party to get her?’ ‘Ria? Oh yes – the girl, yes – I mean no! Why should we? I mean kids get lost – it happens.’ ‘Yeah but when I last saw her she was in trouble - she probably still needs help.’ ‘Maybe so, but we can’t just drop everything and chase off after a kid who gets herself in mischief, can we? I mean getting up to mischief is what kids do – I believe – I mean I don’t have any experience personally. It’s a long long time since I, or anyone else I know was a child and we don’t have many about in Wysiwii. There’s no need.’ ‘What about her parents. Doesn’t she have parents even?’ ‘Probably! But what have they got to do with it? It’s not their fault is it? I mean is your mum to blame because you are lost?’ ‘No! But…. but…’ Oh what’s the point? Tox went back to observing the passing scene. So many people! And from all over the world! Is there anyone from back home that doesn’t come here? As they finally reached the end of the hall, Tox saw the Wysiwiian technicians hopping down from the conveyors and starting to walk in the same direction as the buggy was travelling. Shortly afterwards the Wysiwiian’s exited from the treatment room through a regular series of orange doorways built into the end wall. Tox looked back at the entranced subjects. To his amazement they were gradually beginning to fade until they disappeared just before the chairs on which they had been sitting folded neatly and were swept under the conveyor belts, a few yards short of the room end. I wonder if I sat on a chair would I be able to vanish back to home? 174

WYSIWII ‘It doesn’t work,’ Macca said in a matter of fact fashion. ‘What doesn’t?’ ‘Using the end of the conveyor belt to get back to Falseside.’ ‘How did you know I was thinking that?’ ‘I didn’t for sure but a lot of our conscious visitors have tried it, all without so much as a single success’ ‘A lot? I thought you said I was rare, me being awake an all?’ Tox felt a little pang of hurt at this slur on his feeling of being somewhat unique. ‘Conscious visitors are infrequent, shall we say but over the centuries I’ve seen quite a few get sore heads attempting that.’ ‘You just said: over the centuries. How old are you, then?’ ‘I’m not really sure,’ Macca replied with a giggle. ‘It doesn’t matter here. I mean the gi…- ahem! - that the pleasure of being of service to you Falsesiders…..’ Macca made a sweeping hand gesture and bowed his head mockingly. ‘….Why it keeps us active for… well, I don’t know… indefinitely….. maybe even forever! I don’t think anyone knows, for sure.’ Macca giggled again at realising that what he had heard about Falsesiders being concerned about how old someone was, seemed to be true. ‘So why can’t we use the portals here, Man?’ Rah asked. ‘All our portals have been adapted and incorporated into the Treatment Centre’s processes. They don’t function in the old – fashioned way anymore. If you’re not part of the treatment process they don’t work.’ ‘So, Man if we can’t use WYSIWII’s portals where can we find proper ones.’

175

TOX ‘There is nothing improper with WYSIWII portals, thank you very much. But if you desperately need an unrefined version - let me see - you’ll need to go to Adam’n’Ever’s Square.’ ‘No!’ ‘No? Then beyond Omnilith then – huh! If you dare.’ As Tox puzzled over this, the two orange panels of an automatic door swung open ahead of them and their buggy hummed through the gap. A short grey unadorned corridor followed by another set of automatic orange doors and suddenly they were out into a huge bustling circular atrium. Here, there were Wysiwiians milling about everywhere. Some were in buggies - of which there seemed to be only one basic design - some were catching cartoon-like busses - some rode on strange thick-tyred tricycles and many more were on foot, clacking along in shinny painted clogs or large bulbous-toed brogues with large buckles that rattled as they walked. Tox’s eyes were drawn upwards. The ceiling was over a football pitch length up. At its centre it had a terracotta-coloured glass dome. The circular walls were patterned with brown walkways, lift-shafts and stairways to other levels. The circular wall was a uniform grey. At the ground level the base of this curved wall had orange doors like the one through which they had just exited from the treatment room. Macca steered the buggy to the right to join the general flow of traffic round the central roundabout formed by a large column, painted in large spirals of the four Wysiwiian colours like a giant stick of seaside rock. Shortly afterwards he pulled them into the white kerbside that ran evenly round the rim of the wall base, like a neatly fitting washer. Macca drew the buggy to a halt then spoke to Tox in an unconvincing officious tone. ‘Ok Master O’Shea, my colleague Con will arrive shortly and pick you up to escort you to your appointed treatment spur. However, in the meantime, would you mind excusing us while I take this opportunity to have a word in

176

WYSIWII private with my client Mr. Tuss here? We have a need to discuss his ongoing treatment, in private, if you will be kind enough to understand.’ ‘Uh! Yeah! Sure!’ Tox replied awkwardly and stepped down from the buggy. Tox didn’t like being excluded. After all it’s probably all happening in MY mind, anyway. He walked over and stood with his back against the coarse grey wall in a bit of a sulk. He took in the scene again. God this place is busy. As he looked round the walls he noticed that huge letters were painted in white over the orange doorways spaced around the perimeter wall. He looked directly overhead. He was now standing under the letter ‘O.’ Looking back at where the buggy had emerged there was a giant ‘T’ over the doorway. Kind of makes sense. Macca called Rah “Mr. Tuss” and that was the one that Rah had headed for. Tox looked over at Rah and Macca. They were both talking - one nodding while the other spoke - then reversing roles. Tox felt really excluded. He turned to feeling sorry for himself. He had grown used to the respect he had commanded since starting his business back in … The REAL world. All that seems so long ago. He looked at the crowds of small rotund Wysiwiians hurrying here and there, all dressed more or less the same. What weird people. What a weird place. How the hell did I get here? Or more to the point, how am I ever going to get out? Is all this really just in my head? Can I really be imagining all this? ‘Ow!’ Suddenly his leg began to hurt and his head. Shortly after he doubled up in pain. 177

TOX Oh no! It’s happening again. His mind filled with panic. He looked up and tried to cry for help but could only manage a muted squeal. Rah and Macca were still sitting in the buggy talking and nodding, totally oblivious to his distress. Through his agony Tox felt a presence beside him. He couldn’t see clearly with the tears welling in his eyes from his pain but he knew who it would be. Tox squinted the tears out of his eyes to clear his vision. There, camouflaged against the grey wall stood Grayend. Grayend raised his hand slowly towards Tox’s forehead. Tox was paralysed with pain and terror. ‘It is time my little friend,’ Grayend’s calm deep voice announced. Still bent double, Tox followed Grayend’s pointed fingers, with his eyes, as they came nearer and nearer to his cringing face. He tried to scream but nothing came out. Suddenly someone else screamed. ‘No!’ Tox was shoved along the curve of the wall away from Grayend. Once again it was Rah to the rescue. Before Tox could think, Rah had a fist-full of his school jacket and shirt and was dragging him across the pavement. Tox could barely stand with the pain. Rah dragged him to the buggy. Macca was nowhere in sight. Rah heaved Tox in across the rear seat and then jumped up into the driver’s position. Rah released the handle and grabbed the steering wheel with both hands. Tox was still curled up in agony. He glanced back through the tears in his eyes. Grayend was walking slowly towards him shaking his head gently. He had that inane, kind smile on his face. The buggy juddered forward and Rah steered it awkwardly out into the traffic, ignoring noisy protests from the hooters and bells on other vehicles. As they arched away from Grayend Tox’s pain began to ease. Rah steered the buggy in behind a bus full of Wysiwiians. About half way around the huge circle of the hub of the Shaping Centre, the bus turned right without signalling. Rah instinctively twisted the steering wheel sharply to follow it. The buggy went up on two wheels almost turning over on its side. Tox felt his 178

WYSIWII stomach somersault as he clung desperately to the upright bar on the buggy. Up ahead two doors parted and swung backwards to let the bus pass through. Moments later, with just a flicker of hesitation, the doors allowed the buggy to pass also. A short downhill passageway followed and then they were outside on a street between a wedge of housing and shops to the left and a Shaping Centre spur to the right. Tox had recovered enough by now to notice why the buses, buggies and tricycles all had such big rubber tyres on their wheels. The road surfaces and pavements were all neatly constructed of bumpy cobblestones. The roads were made of orange-red cobbles and the pavements of creamy-white. Every one of the Wysiwiians stopped and stared open mouthed at the odd pair in the buggy. Rah now realised that Macca had not, as he had assumed, been keeping the speed down while driving them along indoors. The buggy only had one speed and that was slow, no more than a brisk walking pace. The road also narrowed quickly the further they moved away from the Shaping Centre exit. This forced them to drive ever closer to the kerb. The Wysiwiian pedestrians, despite their generally small stature, seemed to be peering down on them as the buggy pootled slowly passed. Tox, by then almost completely recovered, looked back the way they had just come. Immediately behind there was another buggy with four Wysiwiians seated like neatly painted eggs in a carton. Behind them was a tricycle with a red-faced Wysiwiian woman puffing earnestly as she peddled. Tox looked further back to the exit from the Shaping Centre. To his complete horror Grayend suddenly came into view. He was seated under an orange canopy on a rickshaw being propelled along in front by two fit looking Wysiwiians. Grayend was seated in a relaxed pose, his legs crossed and his right arm stretched along the shoulder-high back of the cream coloured leather upholstery of the passenger seat. His eyes were fixed on Tox. He smiled calmly which made Tox shudder. Tox tapped Rah on the shoulder and pointed back at Grayend. ‘Chef!’ 179

TOX In panic Rah started moving his hands around pointlessly to different positions on the steering wheel. ‘Do something!’ ‘What, Man?’ ‘Go faster!’ ‘I can’t. This is all this thing does, Dude.’ Tox briefly considered getting out and running but the pavements were full of inquisitive, staring Wysiwiians and progress would have been even slower. Both Tox and Rah looked behind simultaneously. Powered by the two fit Wysiwiians, Grayend’s rickshaw was rapidly gaining on them. We’ve got to do something. Rah looked back towards the front. Spotting a gap between buildings to their left he slammed the steering wheel round hard in that direction. Again Tox instinctively grabbed hold of the buggy’s frame to save himself from being catapulted off onto the knobbly road. Sending several rotund Wysiwiians leaping for safety the buggy took the corner on two wheels before bouncing down onto all four wheels again in a less busy street. This street was narrower than the previous one with only room for a pavement on one side. Tox looked anxiously behind. Several Wysiwiians were helping others up to their feet. Some started shaking fists at the slowly departing pair on the buggy. Suddenly the crowd parted anxiously again as the rickshaw carrying Grayend powered into the street. Tox looked to Rah. Rah had already seen what was happening. ‘Hold tight Dude!’ Rah slammed the steering wheel hard to the left. They were now in a very narrow street. It had no pavement and not enough room for two vehicles to pass each other. Overhead full washing-lines were draped like four-coloured bunting from balconies on one side of the street to those on the other. Seconds later, eyes wide with terror, Tox saw Grayend’s chariot easily 180

WYSIWII negotiate the corner and follow their buggy up the street. A woman came to a doorway of her house, her curiosity stirred by the unusual sound of activity. She shrieked and had to leap back to avoid being hit by Grayend’s pursuing vehicle. ‘He’s gaining on us – fast! He’s catching us - do something!’ Tox looked ahead. The narrow street ended in a tee-junction but before they had reached it Rah slammed the steering wheel down hard to the right. This time Tox was sent flying out of the side of the buggy onto the hard cobbles of the street. Before he could recover enough to think what to do, Rah was with him and trying to help him up onto his feet. ‘Quick! Quick! This way! Run!’ Shuddering himself to sensibility Tox obeyed. The pair scrambled unsteadily to the junction at the end of the street. As they turned the corner Tox looked back at the scene they had left seconds before. Rah had jammed the buggy across almost all the entire width of the street. Grayend’s rickshaw had been forced to a halt behind Rah’s improvised barricade. The two cyclists were resting one foot on the ground the other on a pedal. Grayend was standing upright in the back of the shallow carriage. He looked solemnly at Tox and shook his head before smiling wryly. Tox shuddered again as he followed Rah. The pair ran past two turnings before taking the third on the left. As they turned they glanced behind to see if their choice had been observed by their pursuer. It hadn’t. The street they found themselves on was narrower than all the others before. Tox guessed that a buggy, or more importantly a rickshaw, would have difficulty negotiating it. He was very tired and wanted to rest. Seeing Tox slow down, Rah came back and started pulling him by the arm. ‘No! Man we can’t stop. We gotta get out of here. Grayend can go back and come another way.’ ‘But he won’t get that thing up here,’ Tox protested through his panting for breaths. 181

TOX ‘But we can’t stay here forever, Man, the Grey Dude knows the ways we can come out. He may even hire some dudes to flush us out, Man. We gotta keep going.’ ‘Why don’t we knock on one of these doors and ask for help? Surely they’ll understand. Back home Mum would help - even a stranger and especially a kid.’ ‘But that’s just it, here they wouldn’t dig your problem Man. Thanks to you dudes from the Fa….. you know your ‘hood, they have no need to fear the touch of Grayend. He comes and goes as he wishes. He looks different but then he’s kinda their ethnic minority of one. They’re quite tolerant really, even with Fals …eh! you and eh! me of course. Sure they’d prefer if we made the effort a bit more in what we wore, you know Man, blending into their colour thing. Here Man, they have a saying: When in Wysiwii wear what the Wysiwiians would. Or something like that. But they’re mostly cool. It’s not like life and death, Man. In fact nothing much is, outside of the gis, that is - what they get from you dudes through the Shaping Centre. So they won’t dig your problem Man. A bit like someone telling your Mum they needed protection from the Santa Clause.’ To his irritation Tox had to admit this made sense – sort of. He nodded reluctantly and fell in behind Rah’s lead again as he started off at a slightly reduced speed. At each corner Rah raised his pointed nose and sniffed the air before deciding which way to go. The streets here were more like passageways between closely built houses. The Wysiwiians they did encounter were few and went scurrying for cover on first sight of the Tuss and the Falsesider puffing and panting through

the

shaded

passages

of

their

neighbourhoods.

Tox

felt

claustrophobic and imagined that the buildings were leaning out on him. Rah on the other hand seemed to be more and more at home the narrower and tighter the passageways got.

182

WYSIWII Eventually Rah turned round the side of an ancient house into a passage so narrow Tox had to turn sideways to pass. It was also overgrown with grey weeds that cloyed at their legs. Where this ended Rah came to a stop, sniffed the air then carefully stuck his head out and looked right and left. ‘What’s there?’ Tox was frustrated that he could see nothing with Rah blocking the way. ‘The coast is clear, Man. Ha! Ha! Literally!’ Rah announced before moving out into the open. Tox followed.

183

TOX

16 SisR’s dilemma

‘Chef! Don’t answer that.’ SisR bellowed. ‘Turn ‘em all off!’ The Crew looked at him puzzled by the order. I mean what’s the point in having mophos and turning them off? ‘Now!’ SisR shouted seeing the reluctance on the faces. ‘And I mean all!’ SisR was aware that almost all his crew carried two mophos. ‘But it’s Little Spaghettis,’ Gravy said. ‘And you said we’d meet him at the Den. He’s probably there now.’ ‘Yeah!’ - and the place swarming with helmets.’ SisR sneered. ‘Little Spaghettis wouldn’t rat.’ Gravy said impulsively, then followed with a nervous laugh as he realised that he might have been stupid to defend his new pal in such tense circumstances. ‘Yeah? Then why didn’t he dare text me, Huh? Why’d he text Gravy and not me? Huh? ‘Cause he’s scared, that’s what. He’s scared to speak to me ‘cause he’s squealed. Crew Den’s crawling with helmets, yapping into their squawking radio’s, with your dear Little Spaghettis on a short leash.’ SisR’s rant finished to tense silence in their new hideout. SisR had insisted on them moving quickly following Ravi’s text from school. SisR had been 184

SisR’s dilemma spooked by the ‘AT DEN SOON’ in the same text as ‘HELMETS HERE’, so he took no chances. The Crew was now hunched in the mouth of a large concrete drainage pipe. ‘Wouldn’t it be better to check the Internet news first?’ Pinki asked. ‘In case there’s something about us?’ The others paused and looked at SisR hoping for a reprieve from being forced to go mopho-cold-turkey. ‘Are you dumb or what?’ SisR yelled. ‘If your mopho’s on they can track it, stupid! So turn them off – now!’ The Crew cringed at the ferocity then obeyed in silence. Their faces were lit briefly by pale lights as they obediently accessed their mophos to turn them off. An air of depression descended with the fading light from the last of the small screens. Although their new hideout was more exposed to daylight than the Den, it was already quite dark. It wasn’t exactly warm either. It wasn’t cold for the time of year but the chill on the slight breeze seemed to be attracted to the open mouth of the pipe in which they were hunched. Nobody spoke for ages. SisR wasn’t one to start conversations and the others were too scared of saying the wrong thing. Eventually Pinki broke. ‘What happens now, SisR?’ he asked as meekly as possible. ‘We wait.’ ‘Oh right!’ Another long silence followed. ‘Eh heh!’ June cleared his throat nervously. ‘Shouldn’t we have a plan, SisR?’ ‘I’m thinking.’ The terse reply was followed by another tense silence. 185

TOX ‘Are we going to stay out all night?’ Dino’s voice was full of anguish. ‘And longer,’ SisR snapped, irritated by the series of interruptions to his thinking. Pencil was SisR’s unofficial right-hand-man. Realising that SisR was missing the growing mood of unrest in the Crew, he leaned over and whispered in his ear. ‘Eh, SisR they’re scared, Man. Maybe lettin’ them in on your thinkin’ will calm things – keep ‘em on-side - easier if they see the same situation, yeah?’ SisR nodded solemnly. ‘Look right, that punk Little Business Man is probably dead, ok?’ Everyone nodded gravely. ‘So when they find him, the helmets’ll think we did it, yeah?’ ‘But we didn’t!’ Pinki protested. ‘Why don’t we just give ourselves up and tell the helmets where we last saw him. Maybe he’s still alive somewhere in that …ruin.’ ‘Yeah? And how do we know where he is? Huh? Cos we was chasing him officer? Oh yeah officer! I know we told his pals we was gonna kill him and now he’s dead but really we’re innocent, just kids honest.’ SisR’s mimicry had the desired chilling effect. ‘If a wall’s fallen on him or somethin’, then we’ll be ….’ SisR struggled for the word he had heard used on TV and that he wanted to use now. ‘…Complicated or something, in his murder. We’re all goin’ down for sure. And you know what that’s like?’ The Crew members all nodded silently as SisR continued gravely. ‘You heard what Dodi’s brother said man?’ Dodi smiled momentarily and straightened his shoulders with pride at being mentioned in SisR’s speech, even if it was in the shadow of his infamous big brother again. Dodi’s brother Med had done time - three years in a young 186

SisR’s dilemma offender’s institute and a year in proper prison. The St Wilson’s School Board thought it would encourage their all too many wayward pupils to rethink their lives and adjust their bad attitudes, if they were to hear some of the terrors penal institutions had in store. So Med, who was now fully reformed and who had rediscovered his religion, was invited back to his school to speak at a series of assemblies of unusually silent and attentive kids. ‘You can’t let those things happen to you. That’s why we gotta be smarter. I ain’t goin’ there and I don’t think you want to go there neither.’ ‘Nah!’ was the subdued response before another long silence. ‘But how will we eat?’ Again it was Pinki who dared break the quiet. ‘How we gonna buy food? I’ve only got my change from lunch.’ A quick check around the Crew showed most to be in a similarly broke position. Gravy had a tenner that he was going to use to buy a printer cartridge, on his way home from school. There was general agreement they weren’t going to survive long on what they had between them. SisR remained silent throughout this deliberation. SisR had always prided himself on planning ahead, not getting caught with his pants down. SisR had always considered that something like this could happen. He was proud that he thought of things that others didn’t - of preparing for the unexpected. That’s what makes me different, what makes me the boss. That’s what makes me the boss and what makes the Crew follow me. For more than a year now, SisR had been building a stash of some of the proceeds from his and the Crew’s activities. He had been putting it aside, stored in a safe place - a safe place that only he knew. The last time he checked the stash amounted to £1,120, enough to see his Crew through a period on the run, without risking being caught for petty lifting. Without having to risk doing dumb things that they didn’t have time to rehearse. SisR’s secret stash was enough to see them through, maybe get them out of town 187

TOX the big city maybe, where they could lose themselves among the street kids. But SisR now stayed silent. He was silenced by anger and frustration silenced by anger and frustration with himself. His carefully planned emergency stash was neatly and safely stashed all right - but it was in his “safe” and his “safe” was hidden beneath his throne, in the Crew Den. He was furious that he had forgotten to collect it when he ordered the Crew to abandon the Den earlier, because of that squirt Spaghettis’ text. Now his dilemma was whether he should risk going back? Helmets are probably all over the place like giant ants. If I do go, should I go alone? If I don’t go, how long will this lot stay loyal and hold together? Some of ‘em are just kids. If I do go how long will they stay loyal? Will some of them sneak back to mummy while I’m away – get caught and lead the helmets back to me? Can I trust anyone else to go? Pencil, maybe? So many questions - so many decisions only he could make. There was no one he trusted enough to share the burden, not even Pencil. So SisR remained silent.

188

Griddragons

17 Griddragons

It was very bright, dazzlingly so, after the heavily shaded streets they had just wended their way through. Tox felt his foot sink as he took his first step into the brightness. He looked down. It was sand and lots of it. The buildings just ended and the sand began - no footpath, no gardens, just sand. And it was a yellowish colour, unlike everything else Tox had seen since leaving the ridge, what then seemed like ages before. The change brought a relief all on its own, even if it also brought a new struggle for Tox’s tired legs. Tox’s eyes adjusted. There was a turquoise sea about two hundred feet away. The pristine sand met the sea in a long slow crescent. It stretched from far away to the left, where the long ridge of the mountain dropped off rapidly to sea level, all the way round past the curved perimeter of the city to the distance off to Tox’s right, where it disappeared into a heat-haze. Away off to the right the beach was backed by a large area of sand dunes with tufts of green sand-grass waving in the gentle refreshing breeze. This was the direction in which Rah seemed to be heading without hesitation or consultation for that matter. Tox followed. The pair trudged along through the sand about thirty feet away from the backs of city houses. Tox noticed that there were no doors or balconies in 189

TOX the walls that faced onto the sand. If a building had a beach-facing window at all it was much smaller than those he had seen looking out on to the cityfacing side. With the soft sand progress was slow. They were going to have to make their way past the end of the outskirts of Wysiwii before they would get to the sand dunes. Once, when he looked up towards the city Tox saw a spur of the Shaping Centre with an elaborate glass entrance and swivelling door like the one at which they had met Macca. There was a large grey ‘F’ painted on the glass panelling. Tox looked back along the beach. It was completely deserted and incredibly tidy. There was no rubbish - no litter, no broken bottles, no fading coke cans, no cigarette butts, no lost clothing - nothing - just sand - and no one except Tox and Rah. If this was home on a warm sunny day like this it would be full of people, especially this close to a big city. Looking back past where they came out of the city Tox noticed Wysiwii didn’t seem to have a port. There were no ships on the sea, no quayside with tall dark cranes, just the city, then the sand, then the sea. Tox liked ports. He used to like going with Mum, although the nearest port to his home was now hardly used for its originally intended purpose. But a lot of the cool awesome machinery was still there. Tox remembered looking down into the deep water, trying to spot shoals of fish weaving about in the shade of the huge thickly painted ships that had mostly been turned into restaurants and bars. He loved the creaking, clanging and splashing noises, the disused rail tracks cut into the smooth rounded cobbles and the thickness of the mooring ropes. In fact he loved the bigness of everything there. But that was before he had grown too old to be seen going out places with Mum. But right now I’d give anything to be…. ‘Arggh!’

190

Griddragons His right leg gave way. The pain was back, not as full-on as before but back in all the same places – his head, his neck his arms, his side. Tox fell forward on the soft sand. Rah turned and came back, concern deep on his face. ‘Leave him alone, Man! He didn’t dig and you didn’t say!’ As Rah helped him to his feet Tox looked towards where Rah had directed his order and saw the problem. About twenty feet away, where a road came to an end at the edge of the sand, the grey suited figure of Grayend stood silently. Behind him was the rickshaw with its two cyclists sat like evil twins on the saddles. Grayend shrugged his shoulders slowly and smiled as Tox supported by Rah, staggered further away across the yellow sand. As he recovered once again, Tox found the energy to look back. To his relief and surprise Grayend was making no attempt to follow them. When Tox next looked back Grayend was gone. Although Tox had fully recovered he allowed Rah to continue to support him. They shuffled their way out towards where the sand was damp from the sea. When finally they felt they were a comfortable distance from the city’s edge they turned once again in the direction of the sand dunes. After what seemed like an age the pair started to climb heavily up the nearest dune. The tufts of sand grass gave a comforting sense of cover but the sand continuously slipped from underfoot leaving Tox panting for breath with little obvious result for the effort. A bit like Mum on that exercise stepper that she got but never uses. Aw! Mum how did I get into this? After several more minutes of trudging up and down strength-sapping slopes, Tox came to an exhausted halt near a grassy peak and looked back. There was a clear trail stretching back across the otherwise virginal sand from where he stood to where they had begun. He slumped down in despair. Rah turned to look at him. ‘What’s up Dude?’ 191

TOX ‘I’m too tired. I can’t go on.’ ‘Then we’ll stay here, Man,’ Rah said with a shrug. ‘But he’ll find us easy. There’s a trail you can see from space.’ ‘But Grayend’s not in space Dude.’ ‘Oh! You know what I mean. Look!’ Tox shook a finger towards their wake in the sand. ‘Grayend doesn’t strike me as an off-roader Man.’ ‘What about a chopper? He could get one of those,’ Tox yelled, his anxiety making him angry. ‘A what?’ ‘You know it flies. It’s a machine - with blades and no wings – with people in it.’ ‘Wow! Truly wild Man! Never seen anything like that here. Must be a Falseside speciality.’ ‘Stop saying that!’ ‘What, Man?’ ‘Falseside! It’s not the falseside, It’s real. Where I live is real. This place isn’t – probably. But anyways stop calling it that! I hate it! And I’m fed up with it, do you hear?’ Tox’s tiredness was getting the better of him. ‘Hey sorry Dude, didn’t mean to dis you.’ Rah said meekly then paused before trying to break the awkward silence that followed with a question. ‘So this flying thing, Man it sounds real heavy, - real scary. Like these blades, are they sharp? Does the chopper fling them down from the sky like a knife thrower?’

192

Griddragons ‘No not that type of blade. These are long like wings - except they twirl around and make it fly.’ ‘Weird Dude. Can’t get the picture, Man. But nothing like that here - no way for sure. Only the birds and bats and flies fly.’ ‘Yeah!’ Tox said with a more relaxed but puzzled tone. ‘I noticed that.’ ‘Whassat?’ ‘There ain’t no planes – no jet trails or engine roar in the sky.’ ‘Of course not. You don’t get plains in the sky. We got plains but plains are where there ain’t no mountains. Mountains reach up to the sky, Man, but not plains.’ ‘No not that sort of plains – planes! What people use to fly about in – from place to place – faraway places.’ ‘People flying about. Hmmm! Don’t sound so real to me?’ Rah said taking the risk that Tox’s temper had abated enough for him to be teased a little. ‘Well they are real, right!’ Tox’s tone indicated that it hadn’t fully. ‘Well Man, nothing like that here – no need. Everything is handy – close by.’ Rah gestured across the panorama. ‘The mountains, the lake we saw, the city, the sea, everything where it should be.’ ‘But what about other places – other cities? How do you get there?’ ‘Walk - or ride on the road, but not many do anymore. Reallanders ain’t much into travelling Man. Recently some started hangin’ in the mountains or by the lake for sports, Man, like skiing, snow-boarding, even climbing some rocks! They got much more suppleness now from all you …eh Shaping Centre customer dudes but mostly they don’t leave the safety of the city.’ This sort of made sense to Tox. ‘Yeah, but what about the seaside – how come no one is on the beach?’ 193

TOX ‘They don’t dig it Man.’ ‘Why?’ ‘Eh!’ Rah hesitated. ‘Some heavy legend stuff or something. Anyway, they got no need to go.’ ‘But at home we don’t need to go to the seaside but it’s good. Lots of people go ‘cause they like it.’ ‘Fal…’ Rah began, then corrected himself. ‘We know from the Shaping Centre that people in your world need to re-energise, chill, holiday - not do.’ ‘Yeah and?’ ‘Here the Wysiwiians get the energy they need from the work they do. They get gis from you dudes through the Shaping Centre.’ ‘Then why don’t they all work all the time? We saw some going home, others going in.’ ‘They work shifts, Man, to give everyone a chance to have a cool share. It’s the law Man. Totally everyone must be allowed to treat the Falsesiders. Oh no! Sorry Dude it slipped out. Really sorry – habit!’ Rah stretched his thin lips out to each side in a gesture of apology. Tox shrugged and sighed. ‘Anyway how do you know all this stuff?’ ‘At one time, many years ago, my kind thrived here. The Tuss family was very large and many had deep respect Man, from high and mighty dudes everywhere. Integration was cool, yeah? Not just Wysiwians here and Omni’s there Metalics in the mountains – know what I’m sayin’? Real mixed together and laid back – everybody chilled.’ This is beginning to sound like a history lesson. History lessons always had the same affect on Tox. He started not listening. He looked at Rah as he spoke. 194

Griddragons He’s changed somehow. He’s talking different but there’s more than that. He’s holding himself better, more confident, not timid like when we first met in the pink passageways. Maybe I should try and find my way back there. At least I know there’s a pipe there that leads out of this crazy place. Yeah! But Grayend probably knows his way round there and all. Tox pictured himself wandering through the pink maze again, arched passageway after arched passageway, in search of the pipe mouth and suddenly turning a corner and seeing Grayend blocking his way. He was standing there with that annoying smile on his face, his grey eyes peering into Tox’s soul as he raised his left hand towards him. But this time it was different. Tox held something in his hand - behind his back. He knew from the feel and weight of it that it was a sword. He could feel the shape of the hilt in his hand. It gave him power. He had control. It was like the joystick on his j-Sphere. He instinctively knew how to use it. He waited until Grayend’s extended fingers were only inches from his face. Then gritting his teeth, he leapt back a pace and swung the sword out to the front. In a flash he brought the sword down hard on Grayend’s wrist. There was a spark and a resounding clang. Tox was flung backwards and fell hard on his bum. Grayend’s suit had changed to a full suit of shining grey armour. The visor on the rounded helmet was raised so Tox was still confronted by the annoying conceited smile. Ha! Now I know what this is. It’s just a computer game. Very convincing - I’ll give you that - but I can do this. Tox jumped to his feet and pointed the sword at Grayend. A sword appeared in Grayend’s hand. He held it carelessly pointed towards the ground. Tox edged around to the right all the time staring determinedly into Grayend’s eyes. Grayend turned slowly so that he was always face to face with Tox. There was dramatic music playing in the background, adding to the tension of the scene. Tox wanted to strike but his arm would not obey. He would have to move back from the screen to get more control of the joystick. Mum was always giving him grief about being too close to the screen. 195

TOX ‘Terence dinner’s ready,’ Mum’s voice yelled from the kitchen. ‘Now!’ ‘Yeah! Yeah! OK just trying to find the…’ Grayend raised his sword slowly above his head. Tox still couldn’t get his arm to move. Chef! What’s wrong with this joystick? Tox wanted to look at it to see what was wrong but dared not look away from Grayend. I have’ta concentrate - stay focused. The off switch, where is it? Think! ‘I said now Terence!’ Mum yelled. Distracted Tox blinked. Woosh! Grayend’s sword came slashing through the air. Tox opened his eyes and sat up with a start. His heart was thumping against his ribcage. It was dark. Rah was sitting nearby. He was poking at a small fire with a gnarled branch from a bush or small tree. Tox could see stars overhead, many more than he had ever seen before. There was a breeze. It was blowing from inland towards the sea. It was tainted with a smell like a rotten drain. It wasn’t cold. ‘Why did you light a fire?’ Rah turned, his smile betraying his delight at having talking company again. ‘Because of the dragons.’ ‘What breathing fire and flying round on flimsy wings –dragons?’ Tox asked sarcastically. ‘Do dragons fly and breathe fire in… where you come from?’ Rah asked with genuine innocence and surprise. ‘Here they run very fast, hunt and bite like a saw.’ ‘No! I mean there ain’t any really. It’s just make bel… ‘ Tox stopped short realising that he had been about to provide more ammunition for calling where he came from “Falseside.” 196

Griddragons ‘Well Man, if the bite of the dragons here don’t kill you, then the poison‘ll make you so crazy with pain. You’ll yell for Grayend and the release of his touch.’ Rah warned in all seriousness. Tox swallowed hard as he peered out into the surrounding darkness. ‘But what makes you think they might be here?’ ‘Cos while you was catching some zeds Man, I checked out the ‘hood and – ‘ ‘You did what?’ ‘Checked the ‘hood, you know Man I took a look around over by the marshes and I could smell ‘em - lots and lots of ‘em. Those dudes ain’t exactly sweet on the breeze, yeah? So I loaded up with as much loose wood as I could.’ ‘But what good will that diddy little fire do? How big are these dragons anyway?’ ‘Big!’ Rah hesitated to think. ‘As big as you and me and you and me and you again.’ Tox tried to work it out. He looked at Rah who had stood upright. ‘What?’ Tox felt a shiver of fear travel down through his body. ‘Hush!’ Rah ordered as he turned his head to listen. Tox obeyed. He held his breath and listened. There was nothing just the rustling of the dry sand-grass fronds in the warm breeze. Then to his horror, there was a louder rustling sound like something brushing through the tufts of sand-grass. It got nearer and then there was a series of dull thuds from the same direction. Hoping not to see anything, Tox focused his attention in the direction of the sounds. Suddenly in the gap between dunes, less than twenty feet away Tox saw it – a huge shinny eye reflecting the fires small flames. Then accompanied by a deep hiss he glimpsed the flash of a long row of pyramid shaped teeth. ‘Get behind the fire!’

197

TOX Tox had already moved to do this instinctively. Without hesitation Rah bent and picked up the gnarled stick that he had left half in the fire when he had stood up. The end was aflame. ‘It’s huge! It’s not going to be afraid of that!’ Tox’s voice was squeaky with panic. Rah darted to his left and held the flame against the tall tufts of dry sand-grass. The flame took hold. Rah then ran across to the right and repeated the process. He then beckoned Tox to retreat in the direction of the sea. As they went, peering nervously into the darkness to watch for other movement or signs, Rah set fire to every dune top within range until it looked like the pair of them was retreating from a giant birthday cake. Tox caught a glimpse of the huge lizard hissing and shaking its long heavy head away from the crackling flames. To Tox’s horror the flame on the stick in Rah’s hand began to fade rapidly. Seconds later it was out. ‘Run!’ The pair turned towards the sea, invisible in the darkness and ran blindly, with pink and blue light-ghosts dancing in their vision. They were soon out of the sand dunes and struggling to remain upright as they raced across the cloying sand. A minute later, still blind, they were on wave-dampened sand. Both turned right instinctively. Running was easier here on the firmer ground and they made good progress, terrified to look back or stop. As they ran Rah caught hold of Tox’s sleeve and pulled him towards the sea. Tox felt a wave crash around his ankles and seep into his trainers. He instinctively went to swerve to his right towards where he knew the sand was dryer. But Rah tugged his sleeve again. ‘No! In here!’ Tox didn’t argue. They splashed on. Some of the waves even came threequarters way up Tox’s shins, making progress difficult again. Eventually Tox had had enough. ‘Gotta rest,’ he gasped as he slowed to a panting halt. 198

Griddragons He waded ashore. His legs felt like lead as he left the water and it was as much as he could manage to ascend the short slope up to where the sand felt soft and dry again. Here he collapsed exhausted. Rah dropped down beside him but sat looking out to sea. Tox lay on his back looking at the cloudless sky pricked by countless stars. When Tox had recovered enough to hear the lapping of the waves above the sound of his breathing he anxiously began to interrogate Rah about their hunter. ‘Just how fast can these things run?’ ‘Like lightening, Man – faster then you or me for sure.’ Tox looked nervously back into the darkness. Where the canopy of stars stopped, the silhouette of the dark horizon began. To his relief there was no movement. ‘But it hasn’t followed us?’ ‘It’s the wind, Dude. Dragons don’t see so good and the fire's made it harder. Smell is their best sense and the breeze blew ours out to sea. Lucky Man, real lucky.’ ‘But why didn’t it circle round the fires and cut us off?’ ‘It couldn’t be sure which way we went. The dragons run fast but not for long. They like to wait until they are sure of a meal Man, before committing.’ ‘So we are safe now, init?’ Tox asked hopefully. ‘Wish, Man, but it will tell the others in its posse. They’re not stupid - depends on how many.’ ‘But you said you smelt loads of em!’ Tox complained anxiously. ‘If there are enough they’ll spread out and scan for us but it’s a big area.’ Rah was regretting having been so honest earlier. Chef! Even the lizards are smart here. I gotta get me out! 199

TOX ‘If they smell so good they’ll pick up our foot prints in the sand!’ Tox’s voice was full of horror. ‘They don’t smell good Man, they smell horrible!’ Rah chuckled alone at his joke before realising Tox hadn’t appreciated it. ‘Ahem! No Man, I know what you mean, really – so the answer is: probably.’ This was not the answer Tox wanted to hear but Rah went on. ‘I hope our running in the sea will wash away our scent. Maybe they’ll think we’ve gone too far for them to bother. We should be ok Man, as long as the wind don’t change round.’ Tox found no comfort in this news. He anxiously strained his eyes towards the dark horizon for any sign of movement. He could hear no sounds other than the waves crashing and trickling on the shore below them and his own taut breathing. ‘There are more of them.’ ‘How do you know?’ ‘I can smell ‘em. Can’t you, Man, they’re mingin?’ ‘No! How many?’ ‘Hard to say, they’re a bit aways off and spread out.’ ‘Good!’ Tox said in a harsh whisper, then more quietly asked: ‘Where do we go from here?’ ‘Don’t know man,’ was the disconcerting reply whispered from the darkness beside him. ‘Great!’ Over the next hour or so, Tox kept looking at the horizon. Eventually it looked like it was getting brighter. There seemed to be a paler stretch of sky arch, immediately above it. Tox had never seen a dawn before. At home he had tried staying awake all night after pretending to be asleep when Mum 200

Griddragons had looked in on him but he had always failed. A couple of times he set the alarm on his mopho to wake him but had got the time wrong – once he was too late and he missed it and the other time, far too early and he just fell asleep again before it happened. Now it looked like he was finally going to see one. But in a place like this! Nervously he watched the sky brighten slowly. Although not cold, the breeze became stronger and gave him a chill. Tox didn’t really understand this wind direction thing that Rah had mentioned, but right then the wind seemed to him to be blowing more along the beach than across from the dunes, as it had before. ‘Has the wind changed?’ he asked, with a shake in his voice. ‘Eh! Maybe a little.’ ‘So what do we do now?’ ‘Don’t know Man. Maybe double back – go back to Wysiwii?’ ‘And what exactly? Say hello to Grayend?’ Tox said sarcastically before scrunching up his face and putting a mock baby tone into his voice. ‘Oh hi! Mr. Grayend. So sorry I ran away but here I am now. I give up! So sorry for the inconvenience.’ ‘No! I mean I don’t know! I told you, I don’t know, Man.’ The tension was getting to Rah as well. ‘Well you’re the one that knows about these dragons. You’re the one that’s supposed to know this place. You said you’re from around here. So come on think! What are we going to do?’ Tox was really losing it. ‘I’m not the one who got us into this. You’re the one who rustled Grayend,’ Rah retaliated. 201

TOX ‘But I didn’t know! If you had of been there… - you should have warned me!’ Suddenly Tox realised they were both sitting there in the half-light shouting. ‘Chef!’ he said looking around nervously. ‘What?’ ‘We’ve been shouting. They’ll have heard us,’ he said in a forced whisper. ‘I don’t think they hear too good.’ Rah said uncertainly. ‘You don’t think? You don’t think?’ Tox’s anger had escaped again. ‘You should know! I’m depending on you to know these things. What do you mean you don’t think? Why don’t you know?’ ‘Cos I ain’t done this before. Only heard – a long time ago.’ Rah was upset at losing face in front of his new friend. ‘Oh great! Chef! That’s just great that is! You can’t get me out of this stupid place, where everything’s nuts, the people, everything! With psychos trying to… trying to…kill me! And now you tell me that you’re not even sure about what goes on here.’ Tox then returned to the mocking baby voice. ‘I just heard it somewheres.’ Rah didn’t know what to say but felt he had to say something, even if just to delay Tox starting off again. ‘I do know how to get to other places but ….’ Well what the chef are you waiting for then?’ Tox interrupted. ‘I’m not sure they’re where we want to go, Man.’ Tox instinctively felt like yelling. Anywhere would be better than this! 202

Griddragons But his recent experiences told him this might not be the case. So a period of uneasy silence followed. ‘Why don’t you use your gift, Man?’ Rah suggested eventually. ‘What? - Oh that!’ Tox remembered how dreadful he had felt after each of the two times he had employed his newfound power. But this is a real bad situation. He has a point. I gotta try something. ‘Ok!’ Tox closed his eyes and tried to imagine being somewhere else. Immediately, home came to mind - and being in his own warm bed. He felt Rah’s little hand come to rest gently on his right arm and remembered that Rah needed to be touching him to be transported as well. Tox squeezed up his eyes to try and help his concentration. He held his breath. Nothing happened. ‘What’s the matter?’ ‘It’s not working.’ ‘Where are you thinking of?’ ‘Home!’ ‘Well that’s probably why, Man.’ ‘What?’ ‘Your powers only work because you’re a Fals… look - you’re in Realland. You can’t think back to your world because it doesn’t work there.’ Tox reluctantly had to admit the logic. ‘Ok!’ He shut his eyes again.

203

TOX But where can I think of here? I don’t want to go back to Wysiwii. Don’t want to get trampled in that Adam’n’Evers’ Square. Ain’t facing the crazy doctor again. And I don’t know anywhere else here. He opened his eyes again. ‘It’s not going to work.’ ‘Why not Man?’ ‘Cause I don’t know nowhere here.’ ‘You’ve been lots of places.’ ‘Yeah! But nowhere I want to go back to! Oh wait! What about the pink passageways? I could get back there!’ ‘OK Man lets go,’ Rah said, still holding on to Tox’s arm. Tox shut his eyes once more and held his breath. At first nothing came because he was trying too hard. Then he began to see the dark arched passageways with their even brickwork – but they were green – not pink! He tried to relax and let the colour change in his mind. It did but it went yellow – then blue. Go pink! How do I get it to go pink? Suddenly he was distracted by a noise. ‘What was that?’ Tox opened his eyes. The pair lay down as flat as they could into the soft sand, straining their eyes to search for movement against the gradually bluing horizon. Slightly to the left of their view Tox heard it again – a lengthy ‘hiss’. ‘Chef!’ he whispered, though he could still see nothing. Tox raised his head slowly and peered over the uneven sand towards where the sound had seemed to come from. As he had dreaded he saw

204

Griddragons something, a dark silhouette moving slowly through the gloom. Tox felt his whole body tingle with fear. There was another loud hiss. Chef! It’s a dragon. It was about forty yards away. Tox could just about make out its forked tongue tasting the air as it slowly swept its enormous head from side to side. ‘What now?’ he whispered through teeth clenched in terror. ‘Stay still,’ Rah whispered back without looking at Tox. ‘I don’t think it can smell us. It’s too far up the beach. The wind’s not right.’ The dragon was still moving forwards, getting nearer to them but in a line about twenty yards inland from where they lay. Each of its footfalls sent a dull thud vibrating through the sand that Tox could feel through his stomach. Seconds later the dragon was parallel with their position. Tox held his breath. A couple of strides past where they lay the beast paused again and tasted the air with its forked tongue. Tox heard a low gurgling growl that seemed to come from inside its rounded belly. The pale blue light of the early dawn, now behind it, made the creature’s scaly skin glisten silver, grey, purple and blue, like an oil slick on a puddle. It’s like Jurassic Island. The dragon turned its head so that its shinny black snooker-ball eye gazed straight at where the two lay frozen with fear, pressing themselves as hard as possible into the sand. It’s seen us! Panic flooded through Tox. His instinct was to leap up and run but he somehow resisted. Nothing happened for what seemed like an age. Then the dragon tasted the air again, after which, with a sickening hiss that bared its double rows of triangular teeth, it swept its head back centre and thudded on. Now its pace seemed much slower, so it seemed an age before Tox felt safe enough to allow himself to breathe again. The petrified pair watched the huge beast meander away, forty, fifty, sixty yards. 205

TOX Tox turned to Rah hoping that the experience might have given him some inspiration as to what to do but Rah’s face just looked blank. Suddenly Tox saw movement behind Rah. With a start Tox turned over and tried to push himself away with his legs against the loose sand. He tried to find his voice to warn Rah. ‘Aaaaaaaaa….. another one!’ Too late. The second beast’s enormous crimson mouth and yellow teeth were descending towards them. Without turning to look, Rah was attempting to run as he rose to his feet. Tox’s face was blasted by the disgusting stench of the dragon’s breath that forced him to turn his head away. When he looked back he gasped helplessly as Rah was jerked sharply backwards, his face filled with terror. ‘Help me!’ Rah squealed. Tox leapt to his feet. The dragon had the bottom of Rah’s hoody firmly between its teeth. Rah was still facing Tox but at an acute angle to the ground as he tried in vain to resist being dragged backwards through the sand. ‘Help me!’ Tox looked around for something to use. There was nothing. Then in desperation he bent down and clutched two handfuls of sand and flung them at the great beast’s nearest eye. The dragon twisted his huge head away, taking Rah swirling through the air, sand splaying from his flailing feet. The creature’s huge dark torso followed the head around away from Tox. Then with a swishing noise its heavy tail swept up from behind and caught Tox smack on his side. Tox flew backwards through the air landing with a bump ten feet further back. Tox shook himself off, spat the sand from his mouth, then rose to his feet again.

206

Griddragons The dragon’s bite was still gripped tightly on the bottom of Rah’s hoody. It hissed loudly through the grin of its gritted teeth. Its visible eye had an insane sparkle. Rah was still trying hopelessly to pull away. Tox caught the terror in his pleading eyes. ‘Help me!’ What can I do? I gotta do something. Tox looked around again for something to use. Anything! Again there was nothing. To his further horror he saw that the dragon that had passed them shortly before was now thundering back towards them, sand splashing away from its heavy footfalls. Worse still Tox saw another appear from the shadows of the dunes at the top of the beach and then another. Tox could do nothing. He just stood there unable to move like a small goat left tied to a stake as a sacrifice to some terrifying gods. He looked back at the ugly creature charging towards him along the beach. This is it! I’ll not see Mum again. Suddenly there was a loud echoing swishing noise. It came from behind Tox. It was like lots of voices saying “hisssssh,” over and over in a cathedral or a large cave. The loose chorus rapidly became louder and louder. It got so loud that Tox instinctively put his hands over his ears but to his amazement it didn’t mute the sound as much as he thought it would. Some of the sounds seemed to be echoing inside his head. Then to his surprise, the huge nuclear missile of the dragon’s body that was bearing down on him, rumbled to a halt. The front of its thick snout stopped just inches away from Tox’s little head. Its heavy jaw dropped open revealing the rows of three-inch long yellowish alpine teeth. Once again Tox had to turn his head sharply away as the gust of foul breath puffed out around him. The dragon’s enormous head turned away too. It seemed to have lost interest in Tox. 207

TOX ‘Hisssssh!’ the dragon exclaimed noisily as it flicked a long leathery forked tongue across the air. The loud echoing chorus continued. Tox looked at the dragon’s dark shiny eye less than two feet away from him. It didn’t seem to be looking at him. Tox dared to look over his shoulder to what had distracted the fearsome beast. Coming towards him was a tall thin man twirling something on a rope over his head. Movement to the left of the newcomer caught Tox’s attention. On the edge of the dunes, the third dragon had changed direction and was now moving towards the tall man. Out of the corner of his vision Tox spotted more and more dragons approaching excitedly. Suddenly Tox was knocked off his feet. The dragon that had been breathing in his face brushed past him, as it too made its way towards the new arrival. Rah - what’s happened to Rah? Tox turned to where he had last seen him. To his partial relief Rah was still there. However, he was leaning suspended forward with his feet stuck in the sand as firmly as he could manage, straining against the dragon that was still pulling on the back end of his hoody. ‘Hissssssssssssh!’ the chorus echoed everywhere with the congregating dragons joining in. Tox turned his head but the approaching man was focused on Rah. ‘Hissssssssssssssh!’ The dragon turned slowly dragging the splayed Rah, who was grasping frantically at the soft sand. The thin man strode right up to the giant creature. He stopped twirling the rope and as it slowed and dropped to rest by the side of the man’s left leg Tox saw it was weighted with a smoothly carved piece of very white shiny marble. The cacophony of echoing hissishing faded almost immediately. The thin man leaned right into the ear of the dragon holding Rah and shouted: 208

Griddragons ‘NAAYFISSSSSSH!’ The beast dropped its rotund midriff lower towards the sand and gave the impression of disappointed submission. Still its razor teeth were clenched on the end of Rah’s furry hoody. ‘NAAYFIIIIISSSSHHFA GEORGE!’ The dragon hesitated, seeming to consider what had been said. Then with a sharp hiss it snapped open the vice of its ugly jaws releasing Rah. Rah went scampering forwards on all fours. Tox heard a deep growl behind him and looked around. They were now surrounded by about fifteen of the giant creatures. There were even more of the dreadful beasts thundering towards them, sand splashing from every footfall like puddles under jeep tyres. Tox was still terrified. It was like being surrounded by foul smelling, oversized, living scaly skinned sofas, with rows of yellow-green teeth. Those nearest him seemed to have no interest in him at all but he realised that if they were to move suddenly, he could be crushed or trampled in an instant. A couple of times he struggled to keep his balance as he was accidentally brushed by rough scaly hide. Rah picked himself up and moved nervously around the outskirts of the gathering throng to rejoin his friend. Totally careless of the destructive power all around him the tall newcomer pushed his way through the mass of dark bodies to the terrified pair. ‘Edlokeep,’ he said directly at Tox. Tox didn’t understand but he was willing to obey any command to improve his chances of getting out alive. ‘Sorry?’ ‘Edlokeep - name’s Edlokeep.’ ‘Oh!’ Tox was relieved at suddenly understanding. He stuck out his little hand to shake. 209

TOX ‘Eh! Tox - and this is Rah.’ Edlokeep gave Tox’s hand a brief puzzled squint and ignored it. Tox withdrew it awkwardly and wiped it on the back of his pants, for want of something better to do with it. ‘Ehtox, right! We go - must close the Marches.’ Without further notice Edlokeep turned and started off back in the direction of the dunes. His long legs took huge strides across the sand. As he went the white marble pendulum swayed in rhythm to the motion of his steps and Tox again heard the echoing voices whispering ‘Hisssh, Hisssh, Hisssh, Hisssh’ over and over but much quieter than before. The entire assembly of dragons began to manoeuvre into positions in readiness to follow Edlokeep. Tox and Rah held on to each other, totally terrified by the sudden commotion among the big beasts. The diminutive pair scampered to the side out of the way, and then ran to fall in behind their saviour, taking three steps to every one of Edlokeep’s. Tox stared nervously over his shoulder. The nearest dragons were only a yard or so behind him, their jaws gaping slightly, a foot or so above his head, with saliva dripping menacingly onto the sand as they waddled heavily. The beasts had formed themselves into three surprisingly neat lines. Tox thought that the noise from their thudding claws on the sand should have drowned out the voices whispering “Hisssh” but he could still hear them clearly echoing in his head. Oddly the giant lizards seemed to be marching to the rhythm of what he could hear. To Tox’s relief the creatures now seemed oblivious to his presence though every now and then he felt the momentary wet leathery swipe of a forked-tongue on the back of his neck or arm. Because of this, it took some time before Tox felt relaxed enough to study Edlokeep. He was wearing what looked to Tox to be some sort of home made jeans – sort of the right design but definitely not real denim. He had a worn and not very clean faded pink tee-shirt – again with a homemade look about it, which hung loosely from the 210

Griddragons broad shoulders of his lank frame. There seemed to be some kind of logo on it but Tox could not make out what it was meant to be. A forest of heavy black stubble carpeted Edlokeep’s face. His hair was also black and shoulder-length and flounced about in rhythm to his footsteps. Tox looked at Edlokeep’s bare arms and stocking-less feet protruding from their poorly fashioned sandals. He’s hairy all over. Even his eyebrows cascaded down more then half-covering his dark eyes. He looked very serious and Tox felt very small behind him and didn’t dare speak. As they proceeded across the undulating dunes Tox saw more and more dragons come running across with a heavy waddling motion to join the weird parade. There seemed to be some sort of hierarchy, as some of the beasts already in line moved back and gave way to some of the new arrivals without too much complaint. Edlokeep did not give any sign of wishing to start conversation and Rah was being unusually quiet after his ordeal, so Tox felt he ought to say something. ‘The eh!… They’re very obedient aren’t they?’ ‘Who?’ ‘These dragons.’ ‘Griddragons. Don’t like their title shortened.’ ‘Oh sorry!’ Tox said with a nervous glance over his shoulder. ‘Not obedient – willing to follow.’ ‘But in such neat lines!’ ‘They’re Griddragons. It’s nature. They used to hunt in grids – made up for poor eyesight and hearing. Divide area in squares – one or two search each. Ha! I says “used!”’

211

TOX Tox and Rah both jumped at the sudden rise in volume as Edlokeep’s face burst out in laughter and amusement at what he had just said. ‘Lookin’ at them and you two – they still do. Ha! Ha!’ Unable to share the joke, both Rah and Tox looked nervously back at the army of monsters marching behind them. ‘So we was lucky you came when you did then?’ Tox gulped as he thought of what might have happened. ‘Maybes! Don’t knows! Maybe only playin’ with youse – a bit a sport.’ Sport! I don’t think so! Tox and Rah looked at each other to see if either agreed with Edlokeep. Clearly neither did. ‘You’re nay Amfibs. Hmmph!’ Edlokeep said by way of explanation with an amused look of mild contempt. ‘What are Amfibs?’ Tox asked. ‘Kidnappers and murderers from the sea,’ Rah interjected clearly proud he knew the answer. Sounds like pirates or Vikings or something. Huh! That’s all I need right now – is there no end to this? By then the sun had risen fully and cast long shadows, as the strange party reached the inland edge of the sand dunes. Here the undulating yellow and green hills gave way to a broad expanse of mainly pale blue water. The water was walled off into hundreds - perhaps thousands of squares and rectangles by a maze of embankments of pale sand coloured clay. To the right most of these embankments were over-grown with bushes and weeds. This vegetation in turn grew denser and denser the further you looked in that direction, until it seemed to form a continuous green quilt. To the left and front – the direction in which the bizarre procession seemed to heading – the dividing embankments were clearly used as walkways. Some were like 212

Griddragons reversed Mohicans – worn bald down the middle with tufts of foliage confined to overhanging the waters’ edges on each of the sides. As they left the cover of the dunes tall pink and scarlet long-legged birds flew up from many of the sections of water and Tox watched them join up in a ‘V’ shape before flying off into the distance. As he watched them go something dazzled his eyes. Away on the other side of the water maze, something very bright was reflecting the rays of the early morning sun. ‘Omnilith! Wow Man! Amazing!’ Rah exclaimed. ‘Is that where we’re headin’?’ ‘Yup!’ Without further word they began to cross the first walkways. Tox noticed how unfamiliar the weeds looked. After a few minutes he noticed that the Griddragons were no longer all following directly behind. Most had fanned out and were negotiating alternative causeways on both flanks. As they progressed further and further across the grid of pathways they sometimes took a left turn, other times a right, but the general direction always seemed to be towards the shinny object in the distance. The glare was such that Tox couldn’t look at it without squinting and averting his eyes. Even then he couldn’t make it out. He thought it might be some sort of glass tower like an office building with extra-reflective glass but it seemed to be on its own, stark against the horizon - not like back home, where business buildings hung together in posses like brothers. As he and Rah scurried along behind Edlokeep along causeway after causeway the sun rose to the right behind them making Tox feel uncomfortably hot. He took off his much soiled and torn jacket and wanted to take off his shirt, but Mum had always nagged him about not doing this, unless she had smothered him in smelly sun-cream. But Mum’s not here. – Wish she was - No I don’t – I wish I was there - But you’re not – No! – So it doesn’t matter if you take your shirt off. - Yes it does! - Why? – What if I get burnt? Mum will kill me – Mum will? Ha! Fat chance! 213

TOX You could die of heat here first! – It’s not that hot! – No? Then why are we so thirsty? - We? What am I doin’? I’m talking to myself as if there’s two of me! I must be going crazy! But we… I mean I…. I am thirsty. ‘Water I need water, I’m parched.’ Tox’s voice sounded dry and rasping. ‘Here!’ Edlokeep had stopped and turned. His huge out-stretched hand offered Tox a scaly leather pouch. Tox hesitated and looked down at the blue water. ‘Sea!’ Edlokeep said with a brief nod of his head in the direction of the enclosed pool. Edlokeep shook the pouch in front of Tox. Briefly Tox heard a sloshing sound. He took the pouch from Edlokeep and examined it for an opening. The pouch was almost black, pear shaped and the scaly skin felt odd to Tox’s touch. At the pointy end Tox found a round piece of polished grey marble. ‘Pull!’ Tox did and the marble stone bung came away in his hand with a ‘plop!’ leaving a round ring of marble stone with a gap in the middle. Tox raised this to his mouth and drank heavily. To his amazement after three gulps his thirst completely disappeared. He passed the pouch to Rah. As Rah drank Tox squinted over at their shinny destination. ‘What did you say this place is?’ ‘Omnilith!’ Rah said excitedly, pulling the pouch away from his dripping mouth. ‘It’s so cool Man. I’ve never been.’ ‘My home!’ Edlokeep said. ‘Why is it so shinny?’ ‘It’s polished.’ 214

Griddragons Tox couldn’t think of what to ask after that, so a further period of silence followed until Edlokeep turned to Rah. ‘Tuss?’ ‘Yeah Man!’ Rah pushed out what little chest he had with pride. ‘The last!’ ‘Heard that.’ Edlokeep said nodding his head thoughtfully. ‘And once so many.’ ‘Yeah Man and very influential – eh! - I mean max respect. Why only last night Man, I was telling my …’ Rah hesitated, glanced at Tox and then continued. ‘….friend Tox here, how it all changed. How there is no space for our family’s line of business anymore, not since the Wysiwiians started specialising exclusively in servicing the eh! …. Other-worlders.’ As Rah said this he raised his long eyebrows and glanced to the side where Tox was standing. Edlokeep seemed to get the message. ‘Yes! Nothing left untouched by that, even Omni,’ Edlokeep said despondently, then turned to Tox. ‘So Other-worlder eh?’ he said smiling at what he thought was a private joke. ‘Yeah! In this place I suppose I am.’ Tox suppressed his annoyance at being patronised. ‘And what brings you to Realland?’ ‘I wish I knew! I’m just trying to get home.’ ‘Hmmm!’ Edlokeep looked Tox up and down. ‘Not sure that’s advisable in your condition.’ 215

TOX ‘Yeah Man! And he’s rustled Grayend!’ Rah piped in. Edlokeep shrugged his shoulders, as he continued to look at Tox with concern seeming to weigh his heavy eyebrows down even further over his dark sad eyes. ‘Maybe best.’ Tox didn’t like the sound of this comment, nor did he understand it, but he was afraid to ask and so looked away. The ranks of Griddragons had fanned out evenly to left and right. Each one now marched in time with the others, along its own individual pathway, between the pale blue ponds. They looked like huge mechanical toys but still Tox could not forget how dangerous and scary they really were. Tox then saw that the long line of creatures was arriving at a long straight channel of darker water that ran across their path to both right and left. On the far bank of this, people were standing spaced apart at regular distances from each other. As Tox got closer he saw that each of these tall adults was stood beside some sort of shiny white object sticking up out of the pale ground. When the small party of three reached the bank of the channel Edlokeep led them to the left. Ahead Tox saw a narrow bridge spanning the channel they were walking along side. It too was glaring brightly in the morning sun. Tox saw the Griddragons come to a stop where each of their individual paths reached the bank of the long waterway. As he stepped out onto the bridge Tox saw it was made of a very white marble. Even the imperfections in it were of an even whiter shade. Although the bridge was pretty to look at, Tox was glad to get off. It had no rail on either side and the slippery marble had undermined his confidence in his ability to remain upright. Edlokeep waited until both Tox and Rah had alighted onto the hard sandcoloured bank. He then put his hand into a gap carved into a single stone pillar that stood next to the edge of the bridge. He pulled down on something that came into view as he did. It was a stone rod. With an initial groaning 216

Griddragons creak the span of the bridge began to move, slowly at first. Then it swung steadily away to the left from the bank the three had recently left and across the smooth waters of the channel, until with a clink, it hugged itself into a grove cut into the bank on which they then stood. Next Edlokeep stood up to his full height and raised his left hand into the air reminding Tox of some weird two-legged lamppost. Edlokeep looked purposefully left then right. All the people spaced along the bank copied his actions. It’s like some stupid Simon Says. Suddenly Edlokeep dropped his arm. Without exception all the people stood along the bank dropped down onto one knee and started pulling at something in the stone post beside which they had been stood. Edlokeep did the same pulling at another lever built into the lower part of the marble bridge post. Now there was a different sound. Tox turned round. All the Griddragons were tossing their heads back, their forked leathery tongues flailing across the air. They were all hissing loudly in unison. ‘HISSSSSSH!’ Tox felt a rumble in the ground through his trainers. He instinctively grabbed hold of Rah to steady himself only to find Rah trying to do the same using him. Below them the still water was beginning to churn near to where they stood. Now there was a gushing sound coming from behind. Tox turned round. The bank they were on was about six feet wide, so Tox took the few steps over to where it fell away sharply on the other side. Here there was another channel that ran parallel to the one they had just crossed. It was narrower and looked to have been mostly empty moments before but was rapidly filling up with water. The water was gushing through at all the points where Edlokeep’s people stood. At Edlokeep’s signal they had opened a series of small locks allowing the dark water to surge through from one channel to the other. Tox noticed that where the water had been still in the first channel, once it arrived in the second, it flushed rapidly past to the left of where he stood. The salty smell that swept up from the splashing cascade irritated Tox’s nose and eyes.

217

TOX Tox returned to Edlokeep and Rah. The level in the channel below them had already dropped noticeably. As it fell, it was revealing stone ramps, regularly spaced along the far bank, sloping down from where each Griddragon stood into the receding water. The water looks darker and lumpy. Can water be lumpy? ‘HISSSSSSSSH!’ the Griddragons chorused from across. The dark water began to shimmer like a bubbly cola jelly bustling with movement. Tox stared hard trying to focus. It’s fish! Big fish! Like what I saw in the docks but hundreds - even thousands of ‘em! The fish were thrashing frantically about. Tox could even hear the wet slapping of their bodies against each other like wet flippers. As the last water drained away Tox could see panic in the eyes of individual fish. Some leapt into the air in desperation only to clatter down again seconds later, into the gasping throng of writhing shinny bodies. ‘HIIISSSSSSH!’ ‘FIIIISSSSSHHHHH! FIIIISSSSSHHHHH! FIIIISSSSSHHHHH! FIIIISSSSSHHHHH!’ The echoing voices were back inside Tox’s head. Tox looked round. Edlokeep was twirling the white pendulum around over his head again. The others spaced along the bank were copying him. ‘FIIIISSSSSHHHHH! FIIIISSSSSHHHHH! FIIIISSSSSHHHHH! FIIIISSSSSHHHHH!’ The deafening noise seemed to be everywhere like a vast swarm of invisible insects reaching right up to the cloudless sky. ‘HISSSSSHHHHH!’ The Griddragons replied then scurried down the stone ramps over the dark green seaweed that betrayed where the waters had covered not long before. With obvious glee the Griddragons began to feed savagely on the flailing fish. Some were swallowed whole, others snapped in 218

Griddragons half by the rows of yellow serrated teeth, others were tossed playfully into the air and gulped on their return by huge crimson cavernous jaws. With a shiver Tox remembered how he had imagined that that was going to be his fate not so long ago. Instinctively he moved closer to Edlokeep’s side. Tox, Rah and Edlokeep watched the noisy feeding frenzy in silence for several minutes. ‘Did you make all this just to feed them?’ Tox eventually asked gesturing towards the parallel channels. ‘Yup!’ ‘So this makes them tame, then?’ ‘Tame? Ha! What use tame? The guardians of the Marches tame! Useless! The Griddragons once ruled all Gridland.’ Edlokeep waved his long arm towards the seemingly endless sea of green and beige bushes and reeds that stretched away from the far edge of the maze of walkways and ponds that the three had crossed earlier. ‘Travellers feared to pass except by sea ferry.’ Edlokeep looked at Rah before continuing. ‘Many a Tuss disappeared there, especially when they fled Wysiwii.’ Rah nodded in solemn acknowledgement with a gulp, as Edlokeep continued. ‘The changes brought famine for Griddragons, almost died out – like Tusses.’ Tox looked at the savage feasting still in full frenzy in the mucky trench below them. Huh! Better if they had. ‘So you guys helped them out by building all this. Nice!’ Tox said with as much sarcasm as he dared risk while thinking: You must be mad dudes! ‘We need them.’ 219

TOX ‘Why?’ ‘Amfibs.’ Rah’s ears pricked up and he looked at Edlokeep with renewed seriousness freezing his face. ‘Heavy Dude!’ Tox waited for either of them to explain but in the end had to ask. ‘All right, what about these Amfibs? Are they pirates?’ ‘Demons!’ Rah interjected. ‘Evil spirits!’ ‘Not spirits – solid - we’ve killed some.’ Edlokeep gestured towards some posts scattered irregularly on the desert plane that spread out on the far side of the second channel. The posts were too far away for Tox to see detail, especially in the glare of the sun but each supported something roundish on its top. Tox immediately thought of one of his favourite games Dr Fear v the Head Hunters. Wow! These dudes are totally heavy! ‘Eh why do you ….. you know .. eh! need to kill them?’ ‘They vanish my people.’ ‘What do you mean ‘vanish?’ Where do they take ‘em? What do they do to them?’ Edlokeep shrugged his heavy broad shoulders. ‘To the realm of the dead? No one comes back. Ever!’ ‘They come from the sea, don’t they, Man?’ Rah piped in. Edlokeep only nodded sadly. ‘So the sea is the realm of the dead?’ Tox asked. ‘Can you live in it?’ Edlokeep was clearly impatient with Tox’s apparent stupidity. 220

Griddragons ‘That’s what makes the war uneven – we can’t follow – can’t retaliate.’ Edlokeep’s teeth were gritted in anger as his large heavy eyelids blinked slowly in frustration. ‘But what about scuba gear?’ Tox ventured meekly. ‘What?’ ‘Scuba gear, you know – for diving.’ Both Edlokeep and Rah looked at him as if he was insane but he persisted. ‘You know having air in a tank … on you back, with a tube of rubber to you mouth, to breathe and goggles to keep the water out of your eyes?’ There was silence for a few moments while the other two tried to imagine what Tox was describing. ‘Wild idea, Dude, but it’d never work. The stone would be too heavy. You’d be pulled to the depths, for sure,’ Rah eventually replied. ‘Not made of stone, made of metal - light metal like…..’ Tox couldn’t think of the name of a light metal. ‘Ha! Metal! Now you sound like a Tuss of old - trading in fanciful ideas. Bring trinkets from one land and trading them in another,’ Edlokeep said loudly. Rah nodded to confirm the historical fact, with a hint of family pride before Edlokeep continued. ‘Trinkets that fall apart in less then half a century! Pah! Such nonsense!’ Rah lowered his head and pouted as best he could with his thin lips. ‘Stone! Stone works and stays working. Light metal indeed! Pah! Haven’t you heard of pressure?’ ‘Yeah! but…’ Tox realised he didn’t really understand how many things worked. ‘Soft metal! Under water! Nonsense!’ 221

TOX ‘Yeah Dude! Where‘d you get that?’ ‘It’s not soft…. like skin or clothes … it’s .. Oh! Never mind. It was just a suggestion.’ ‘Humph!’ Edlokeep uttered dismissively as he turned sharply away and strode off. Tox and Rah followed keeping a keen eye on the heaving bloodbath still in full frenzy to their left. The noise of huge chomping jaws and crunching bones was still terrifying to hear. After a couple of minutes they arrived at a second white marble bridge. This time it spanned the narrower fast-flowing channel on their right. Again it had no hand rails, only two thin marble pillars on its far side. Each of these had something dark roundish and slightly pointed on top, with strands dangling out and flapping in the warm light breeze. Edlokeep strode across the narrow bridge without slowing. Huh! Must have special soles on his sandals, Tox thought, as he and Rah slowed and carefully placed each footstep afraid of slipping and sliding off into the rushing water below. Rah was the first of the straggling pair to alight on the far side. ‘Wah! Mingin, Man, so that’s what’s been causin’ the satanic odour. I could smell it a mile back, Man. Wah! Mingin.’ Tox had been conscious of a bad smell getting worse as they approached the bridge but, as it had a fishy tinge, he had put it down to the bloody carnage still raging in the recently drained channel. Ugh! Rah’s right it is worse here and it seems to be coming from that. Creasing up his nose and putting his hand over it to minimise the intake of putrid air, Tox squinted up at the object on the nearest pillar. It was withered and crinkled like a giant prune. Then Tox recognised the features as a sort of face. ‘Nnugh!’ He leapt away backwards in disgust. The face was barely recognisable as a face but it was a face. The large dried eyes were further apart then usual, the 222

Griddragons nose was more like an upward pointed snout and the mouth was a lipless, crescent gash in which some pointed teeth were visible. Tox was struggling hard not to be sick. Edlokeep saw his discomfort. ‘That’s what we do to them – so they know what to expect.’ His tone was full of angry satisfaction. Tox looked away. Ahead a pathway had been worn across an arid flat sandy plain that supported no more than the occasional windswept weed-like plant. Its surface was dotted with patches of white salt where pools of seawater had evaporated long before. To his horror, in every direction that he looked, Tox saw more stone spikes with what looked like a severed head impaled on each one. Tox shuddered. How did I get in with such heavy Gangsta’s? The rough pathway seemed to lead fairly directly towards the towering shinning structure that had been blindingly visible since they had left the dunes. Without further comment Edlokeep strode off, again making little allowance for the much shorter legs of the two friends trotting to keep up. On two occasions Tox saw lizards scurry out of their path and take refuge in the scant cover.

223

TOX

18 SisR at 8

By eight o’clock SisR had settled on a plan but he wasn’t happy. He had come to a decision under pressure, which was against his principles. That’s when mistakes get made but I gotta do somethin’. There had almost been a mutiny. “All-the-pies” Pinki had been going on and on about food. Everybody was thirsty. Dodi and Gravy had even suggested that they risk going home, even though SisR had gone over again what would happen. They seem to think that ‘cause we’re “just kids” that all will be forgiven. Everyone will just forgive and forget. How stupid is that? I ain’t ever gonna take on such young kids again. SisR beat himself up mentally for having allowed himself to lower his standards just to make up the numbers in the Crew. Yeah the bigger Crew commands more respect but this just shows there ain’t no substitute for quality. Earlier SisR had had to punish Gravy for sneakily turning his mopho back on. SisR was so angry he ordered Pencil to collect all the Crew’s mophos to prevent recurrences. But even Pencil, SisR's right hand man, had been getting restless. Pencil had said nothing directly but SisR had picked it up from his tone. So, under all this pressure, SisR had had to come up with something even though it rankled with his usual sensibilities. 224

SisR at 8 The Crew remained silent as SisR told them about his stash of cash. He was careful not to say how much there was but assured them he had plenty. Then he explained the problem – it was back in the Den. ‘I gotta go back to the Den to collect it, but now, thanks to that creep Little Spaghettis, the area is crawling with helmets. I should have trusted my instincts. I knew from the start that the creep wasn’t up to it. I should have known that he’d drop me in it – drop the whole Crew in it. Still I got a plan.’ Without saying what his plan was, SisR turned his own mopho back on and thumbed in a text. He then went to the mouth of their pipe hideout and sent the text. Immediately switching his mopho off again, to minimise the risk of the helmets running a trace, he returned to the loose huddle of the Crew. ‘What’s happening SisR?’ Pinki asked on SisR’s return to the fold. Pencil gave Pinki a reproachful look but secretly wanted to know the answer himself. SisR, his face stiff with concentration, did not reply. The more I think about this the less convinced I am that it’s gonna work. But chef! I gotta try somethin’, init? The dip in Crew respect’s too much. Huh! The first real test of their loyalty under pressure and they’re losin’ it like change through a hole in a pocket. SisR’s plan was simple. He had texted Ravi and arranged to meet him at the Palace. I know the little rat will go for it. But the weakness in the plot kept nagging at SisR. His plan depended on all the helmets going with Ravi to the supposed rendezvous and leaving the Den unguarded. After all they’re always saying on the news that there aren’t enough helmets to go round. Huh! But how come it never seems like that when it comes to interfering with Crew business? SisR waited. He guessed Ravi would dash off immediately, so he planned to give it ten minutes, then risk travelling the quarter of a mile or so back to the Den from where they were holed-up. 225

TOX SisR ordered everyone to follow him. His instinct was to go alone. But I can’t trust them - not with them like this. I can’t trust them not to do something stupid while I’m gone. The first part of the journey back to Crew Den was along a track worn under the hedge that formed the perimeter of the extensive municipal playing fields. The narrowness of the track forced the Crew to travel in single file. Within twenty paces of leaving their damp hideout some of the tail-enders were complaining that they couldn’t see where they were putting their feet. SisR had insisted on using only one flashlight - the one he carried. ‘Ow! Watch out.’ ‘It wasn’t my fault. Somethin’ tripped me.’ ‘Shut the chef up back there.’ ‘Its Dodi he’s knocking me into the bushes.’ ‘It’s not my fault I tripped. Ow! That hit me in the face.’ ‘Watch where you’re goin’.‘ ‘I can’t see.’ ‘Neither can I.’ ‘Shut it - all of you!’ To restore order and quiet SisR had to relent and allow a second flashlight to be used nearer the rear of the misery line. In the relative silence that followed SisR could not deny it any more. The noise, that he initially tried to pretend was something else, was definitely what he feared - a hovering chopper. Moments later, through the thinning leaves on the trees, they could see it. ‘Chef! It’s a helmet chopper for sure.’ The chopper’s evil finger of search light jerked from place to place seeking its prey. The Crew froze, peering in silence through the bushes. ‘Chef! It’s right over the Den. Back! Back! Quickly everybody back to …’ 226

SisR at 8 SisR couldn’t think what to call their new hideout in the pipe. ‘…Back to where we were. Come on! Move it! Move it - now!’ The Crew turned clumsily and obeyed, scurrying as fast as they could, with the last now first. Branches snapped frequently and the rough ground tripped their feet with protruding roots, but now no one complained. In a quarter of the time it took them to get out to their turning point, they were back panting in the darkness of the dank pipe. ‘What now?’ Pinki asked annoyingly between gasps.

227

TOX

19 Omnilith

As they drew closer to their destination, Tox shaded his eyes and tried to get a better look around the edges of his hand at what they were approaching. It definitely looked taller than the tower blocks on his estate back home. It looked to be made of the same white marble as the bridges they had crossed, which explained the unrelenting glare. Tox had never really seen the point of wearing shades before – he thought kids who wore them to look cool, just looked stupid. Huh! But I could really do with a pair right now. They were coming at the building point on but now it looked like the building got gradually wider as it curved back away from the point they were approaching. By the time they were so close that Tox had to move his head back to see the top, the true scale of the structure hit him. Right at the front, on top, he could see movement. Wow! He realised that the tiny dots moving about on the top were people Probably fully grown like Edlokeep. This thing’s awesome! As he got nearer still, he realised the facade of the building had no windows – just slits in the stone. 228

Omnilith Like what they used to shoot arrows through in castles. It definitely ain’t no office building. Omnilith looked beautiful, smooth and “polished” like Edlokeep had said earlier. Its wall curved gently away on both sides from a stone staircase that rose like a crinkly nose, to an opening about one hundred and fifty feet up. Tox struggled on the steps. They were steep and clearly whoever had made them had not taken into account the considerably shorter legs of those not yet fully-grown. They’d be slippy if they were wet. Once again there was no handrail or barrier between the edge of the steps and the sheer drops on either side. At the top, the threesome’s passage was blocked by two men, each as tall as Edlokeep and each holding a fearsome looking mace of grey marble stone. Edlokeep produced something black and round from the left side pocket of his fake jeans. It glinted in the sunshine as he flashed it at the guards. The guards stood smartly aside and Edlokeep strode passed them into the round portal, to which they had been blocking access. Tox and Rah followed as the guards eyed them suspiciously. Tox flashed a nervous smile at the guard to his right but got no response. Now they were in a smoothly rounded corridor, like an empty baked beans’ can on its side with a ruler at the bottom on which to walk. It wasn’t particularly dark but the difference in light from the hot sunshine outside, made it difficult to see anything. As Tox’s eyes began to adjust, he could see that a wheel-shaped heavy slab of marble blocked their progress. Edlokeep stood facing it. Tox could hear what sounded like whispering with repeating echoes. After a few seconds there was a sound of grinding stone on stone and then, without warning, the huge marble wheel rose straight upwards and disappeared into a slot cut into the ceiling. Without a word being exchanged, Tox and Rah followed Edlokeep through the gap into a high cylindrical reception hall. The ceiling looked to be 229

TOX as high as the structure itself had looked from outside and too far up for Tox to make out any detail. Despite the lack of formal windows its vast space was surprisingly bright, even to eyes not long out of hours in bright sunshine. Although some of the light shafted through the ten-foot long narrow slits in the rounded stone of the wall, it didn’t account for the level of brightness in the room. Tox realised that the white marble stone itself was translucent, allowing the brightness to radiate through from outside. Suddenly Tox was almost deafened by whispering echoes. They filled the air and seemed to be crowding in from all directions at once. They were like the voices Tox had heard earlier when Edlokeep had first come to their rescue, but now they were much more jumbled and seemed to be trying to say so much more than “hiss” or “fisssh!” Tox couldn’t make out what was being said but the intensity was making him dizzy. He put his hands to his ears which helped somewhat but did not cut the din out completely. He looked at Rah who was gazing around at the surroundings in amazement apparently unperturbed by the intense noise. Tox risked taking his hands away but immediately the full intensity of the echoes exploded in on him again, like a fireman’s hose at full force. ‘What the hell is that?’ he yelled but was surprised to hear his voice had no echo. ‘It’s thought-splash.’ Rah replied without shouting and again, with no echo on his voice. ‘Isn’t it amazing Man, truly awesome? I’d heard of it, Man but wow!’ ‘How do you turn it off?’ ‘Don’t think you can. It’s the stone, I think.’ Rah looked at Edlokeep for confirmation. None came. Edlokeep was leading them across the large circle of the bare marble stone floor. There were groups of people, all tall and hirsute like Edlokeep, scattered here and there across the wide circular floor. Their conversations ebbed as they became aware of the new arrivals passing through. Around the perimeter wall evenly 230

Omnilith spaced perfectly round gaps seemed to be entrances to passageways beyond. Tox saw children scurry for the cover of these on becoming aware of the strange newcomers. He noticed them peering curiously at him from the safety of the shade and then jumping back out of sight, as soon as they realised he was looking back at them. A toddler that looked like a miniature version of Edlokeep, waddled fully into view at one stage. He stood there, finger in mouth, until a woman in a long flowing grey dress darted out of the passageway and grabbed him up under her arm, then disappeared back the way she had come. Tox looked up at the curved walls. At all levels right up as far as he could see there were niches cut into the bright stone with a statue, carefully carved from grey marble, stood in each one. They were mostly of men that looked very similar to Edlokeep but with slight variations – beards of various lengths and shapes – hair longer or shorter - others had their heavy eyebrows platted others had sharper/blunter/bigger noses. The three entered a round corridor on the far side of the chamber from where they had first entered the circular room. As they did, figures darted out of sight around the bend ahead of them. Heavy grey-stone maces of various designs were hung like rough exclamation marks a couple of feet apart all along the bright curved walls. The noise of the whispering echoes was also reduced but did not cease altogether. Now Tox began to make out some of the words. ‘Amfibzzz!’ ‘Murderersssssss!’ ‘Falsesiderssssss!’ ‘Wysiwiiansssssss!’ ‘Fibzzzzzzzzzz!’ ‘What exactly is going on here?’ ‘I told you Man, it’s the stone. Thoughts can’t get through it, Man. They clatter round from place to place trying to escape.’ ‘That’s stupid! You can’t hear thoughts.’ ‘Can Man! The stone makes them louder. Watch Man, I’ll try thinkin’ in eh… Otherworlder!’ 231

TOX Rah closed his mouth pushing his lips tightly sealed to emphasise the fact while looking directly into Tox’s face. ‘Yeah?’ Tox said showing his open palms and widening his eyes to show his lack of surprise that nothing was happening. For several seconds nothing did. Then he began to hear it, coming up over the background whispers like a speeding train from the distance. It was Rah’s voice in a squeaky whisper getting louder and louder. ‘Thoughtssss for Toxssss! Thoughtssss for Toxssss! Thoughtssss for Toxsssss!’ ‘Wow!’ Tox said covering his ears again. That’s amazing! When he uncovered his ears again he was shocked to hear a very familiar voice ringing all around him. ‘Zatzatzatzatz!

amazzzzzzingggsss! Zatzatzatzatz!

amazzzzzzingggsss!

Zatzatzatzatz! amazzzzzzingggsss!’ It was his own voice – different from how he thought he sounded, but still unmistakably his. Instinctively he slammed his hands over his ears again. Chef! This is awful. What if I think something I don’t want no one else to hear? Like … No! I mustn’t! Not even think what I shouldn’t think – ‘cause that would be thinking it! Gotta think of something good – like - like….home! No not home! But home is good – home with Mum. Mum oh! Mum! Get me out of here! Please Mum please! The short passage led to a long enormous cavern. Its steep sides had rows and rows of what looked like apartments carved into the white marble stone. A neatly cobbled street ran straight along the centre as far as the eye could make out. Tox lowered his hands from his ears. ‘Pleassssssssssse! Mmmmmmmmmmuuuuuuummm pleasssssse mmmmmmmmuuuummmmmm!’ resounded back from every surface. Tox felt a real wimp and flushed with embarrassment. Rah was pretending not to have noticed but Edlokeep looked down at him. 232

Omnilith ‘You’ll need get a grip on that.’ Tox nodded apologetically. Such a fool, he thought then heard his whispered voice coming at him with a deep echo. ‘sssssssuchchchchchchchchchch afufufufufufufululululul! sssssuchchchchchchchchchch afufufufufufufululululul! sssssssuchchchchchchchchchch afufufufufufufululululul!’ Stop! he ordered himself mentally ‘Ssssssstopssssstopssssstopssssstop!’ Think! he ordered himself again. ‘Thththththiiinknknknknk!’ I know, “Him!” “Him!” Think “Him!” “Him!” – thinking “him” softly will sound like me breathing in! Think “him” “him” “him.” To Tox’s relief the sound this generated in thought-splash was like a nasal intake of breath. They marched down the centre of the all white street, Tox thinking the word ‘him’ over and over again, with a breathy asthmatic whisper resounding around them. It works! he congratulated himself. Moments later: ‘Twerkssss!

Twerkssssss!

Twerkssss!

Twerkssssss!’

was

resounding

everywhere. Then Tox realised that neither Rah nor Edlokeep seemed to be generating any thought-splash that he could make out. It annoyed him being the only victim. ‘Why can’t I hear your thoughts, then?’ ‘Omni adults think pictures. Picture thoughts don’t echo.’ Edlokeep said matter-of-factly. ‘And what about Rah?’ Tox asked crossly. ‘Why can’t I hear yours?’ ‘Don’t know Man, I can.’ 233

TOX Rah shrugged and looked to Edlokeep for an explanation. ‘Hmm! Maybe Tuss thought ‘s too high-pitched. Tusses are different or should I say ‘were’ or ‘is’ different, Ha! - with Rah the last.’ They walked on with Tox trying to make out details carved in the ubiquitous monochrome white. A few of the dwellings they passed had very pale-green creepers draped over the top of a door or a window. Others had plants in various arrangements on the balconies or framed in the circular window spaces but again these were almost all white or very pale pastel shades. Occasionally, alerted by a child’s alarmed thought-splash of ‘Fibzzzzzzz!’ or something similar, Tox turned to see a child being ushered off a balcony walkway and into one of the circular doorways or being pulled away from a circular window space. Tox also noticed that many of the dwellings on either side looked disused, with dusty cobwebs woven across doorways or windows. Some looked as if they had been uncared for and abandoned for some time, with the pale ivy almost smothering all apertures. Tox caught a waft of food cooking. Instantly he was filled with massive hunger pangs. How long is it since I’ve eaten? I can’t remember - but it’s ages! Weird - it ain’t bothered me before, but now - that smell – I wonder what it is - I’m starving! ‘Hungry eh?’ Edlokeep smiled as the echoes rose in volume. ‘Sssssssstarvingnggngng!’ ‘Sssssssstarvingnggngng!’ ‘Sssssssstarvingnggngng!’ Tox nodded. ‘Soon! Fissssh ok?’ Tox had never been that keen on fish, but right then he could truthfully answer “yes” and did so. Moments later they turned off left and climbed two flights of stairs, then they turned right onto a walkway that overlooked the street they had just left. 234

Omnilith ‘Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! It’s Daddy!’ A young girl’s voice seemed to come from everywhere without a child in sight. Then suddenly, from the fourth doorway along the balcony, an excited young girl sprang into view and ran full-tilt towards them. She had almost reached them when she spotted the two strangers and stopped in her track, obviously frightened. ‘Fibbbzzzzzz! Fibbbzzzzzz! Fibbbzzzzzz!’ ‘It’s ok!’ Edlokeep reassured as she leapt forward and clung tightly to his right knee. ‘Naay Fibs! Naay Fibs! - Mostly harmless!’ ‘Your daughter, Man?’ Rah asked politely. Tox could see the resemblance, even though she was without Edlokeep’s stubble and general hairiness. Her skin was sallow, her eyes big dark-brown pools peeping out below heavy cascades of black eye-brows. Her face was heart shaped and seemed disproportionately small due to the high arched nose it supported. Her thick straight black hair had a simple centre-parting and reached halfway down the back of her single piece, plain pink, anklelength dress. Her feet were bare but clean. Tox guessed her age to be a couple of years younger then his. ‘Yes, my beautiful daughter!’ Edlokeep replied proudly, as he lifted her up in his lofty arms. Beautiful? Tox thought skeptically then, realising what would happen, quickly turned back to thinking “Him! Him! Him!” again, before his thoughts got him into trouble. ‘Rah!’ Edlokeep said by way of an introduction, as he pointed his daughter towards Rah. The little girl smiled briefly at Rah. ‘Rah is a Tuss. Do you remember my stories of Tusses?’ The little girl shook her head. 235

TOX ‘Rah, this is my daughter Loket.’ ‘Cool to meet you Little Dudess.’ Rah bowed mellow-dramatically. ‘And this is Tox. He’s from far off.’ ‘Hi!’ Tox said. Edlokeep waved his left hand towards a circular gap carved in the white marble. ‘My home!’ Tox and Rah went in ahead of Edlokeep, who was still carrying Loket and had to bow considerably to get them both through the entrance without banging their heads. Now they were in a largish circular room with a domed ceiling carved from the white marble. There were no pictures on the bare walls although a large black circle was suspended at eye level on one side. There were two round doorways other than the one through which they had just entered. Again Tox could smell something cooking and again it smelled like fish. Tox was instantly famished again and cringed as this was announced to all present in loud thought-splash. On the far side of the room from where they had entered, a grey-haired woman turned to greet them while wiping her hands on a plain Hessian apron. She was slim, tall for a woman and the balls of her shoulders were pronounced against the plain blue dress that hung from them like a precipice, down to her bare bony feet. Her long grey eyebrows were swept out to each side like a carefully waxed moustache. Her complexion was sallow like Loket’s. The woman seemed to hesitate on spotting Edlokeep’s company but quickly overcame her reservations and produced a smile. Edlokeep did the introductions much as he had earlier. The woman turned out to be his mother, Masonet. She gave a funny little courtesy as she was introduced. She admitted knowledge of the Tusses but was puzzled at first at Elokeep’s description of Tox as being “from a far place.” 236

Omnilith ‘A fireplace?’ she said twice before Edlokeep’s nods and winks helped the penny drop. ‘My home is yours,’ she announced politely and turned back across the room to attend to a large steaming cauldron sat on a built-in stone stove. Edlokeep disappeared through a doorway on the right. Tox was still concentrating on thinking “Him! Him!” - over and over again. However Loket’s thought-splashes were resounding everywhere without any attempt to disguise them. Daddydydydydy, sssssafffffffe, sssssafffffffe sssssafffffffe sssssafffffffe, talkkkkk talkkkkk talkkkkk. They were faster in here and less of a muddle. ‘Eh! Just arrived?’ Loket spoke aloud. ‘Yeah Man!’ Rah replied. ‘Why did you call me “man”? I’m a girl!’ Yeah I know Man! I mean I know you’re a dudess but “man” is just cool, if you check my meaning, Man.’ ‘No, not really!’ Locket was clearly puzzled but waved their attention to a table carved from the marble stone over to the left. Tox and Rah followed Loket over to a semicircular bench carved from the stone of the circular wall to almost surround the table. As he slid on and along the cold seat to make room for others to follow, Tox heard thought-splash in a soothing woman’s voice similar to one’s he had heard doing announcements in big stores back home: ‘Sorry, reserved for Edlokeep please move along - sorry, reserved for Loket please move along - welcome guest.’ ‘What’s that about?’ ‘What?’ ‘That – “move along – welcome guest” - stuff.’ 237

TOX ‘Oh that! That’s just the way it’s been made. It’s a gimmick’ Tox was impressed but the thought-splashes were clearly unhappy at Rah being sat in Loket’s reserved place, repeating over and over “please move along, please move along,” until Tox moved in another place allowing Rah to do as directed. There followed a moment of silence. ‘Tell me about the Falseside,’ Loket began bluntly. ‘Like what exactly?’ ‘Like is it true even adults play pretend all the time?’ ‘No, of course not!’ ‘Is it true you must never let anyone know what you feel?’ Loket teased further, ignoring the clear tone of annoyance in Tox’s voice. ‘No!’ ‘So why is it called the Falseside then?’ ‘It’s not!’ ‘Then what is it called?’ ‘I don’t know…. eh! England… Earth maybe … Home!’ ‘But this is home.’ Seeing Tox was floundering Loket was playing devil’s advocate. Tox rose to her bait and raised his voice. ‘This is not my home! I just want to get out of here – get back to sanity and my home!’ ‘Loket! Mind your manners!’ Masonet shouted over her shoulder from in front of the stone-stove. Loket beamed a self-satisfied smile at her successful devilment. Tox winced at being wound up so easily by someone younger than himself. Cheffff! Cheffffff! Effffffff! ‘Come over here and help!’ Masonet ordered. 238

Omnilith Loket obeyed sliding off the end of the bench still smiling. Tox went back to thinking “him, him, him,” angrily to himself. Moments later Loket brought several large grey bowls to the table and then went back for more. After that, she brought grey stone spoons and finally a large loaf of freshly baked bread. Instantly Tox was famished again. Suddenly there were loud peels of hearty male laughter. Tox turned to see Edlokeep arrive back through the doorway accompanied by two other men. Both of the new comers were tall, one even noticeably taller than Edlokeep. Both had the signature hairy appearance that Tox had by now come to expect. One wore a heavy dusty apron over his dusty tee-shirt and home made jeans, while the other was dressed in, what Tox could only think of as, a home-made three-piece suit. He was even wearing a collar and tie of sorts. A sweep of Masonet’s arm directed the man in the suit to the round table. He crossed the room, greeted Loket and nodding to Rah and Tox, he slid his long legs under the table on the far side from Loket. ‘Sorry, reserved for Masonet, please move along - welcome guest!’ Edlokeep and the other man followed shortly after, carrying the large cauldron from the stove which they placed on the table. Edlokeep sat in his usual place. ‘Welcome Edlokeep,’ the bodiless woman’s voice announced. The other man slid in on the far side of the table accompanied by the then anticipated announcements from the stone of the seat. Masonet remained standing while she filled each bowl with a thick steaming broth, using a grey stone ladle. Edlokeep joked about breakfast being so late because he had to retrieve the Griddragons from their distraction with the Tuss and the Offworlder. ‘It’s so near lunchtime, we should rename it “lunst!”’ Tox looked into the steaming bowl in front of him. It held a rich fish stew, with lots of bits that Tox didn’t recognise – some that looked edible and others 239

TOX that didn’t. This was the sort of thing he would normally turn his nose up at back home but right then he was so hungry. Ssssstarvvvvingggg but looookkksss grossssss grosssss grossss! ‘Don’t look at it then.’ Loket said with a smirk. Masonet gave her a mildly scolding glance from the corner of her eyes. Rah was already slurping away noisily. The men were introduced as “Cutter” a stone mason and “Shapes” a design devisor. Cutter immediately turned and spoke to Tox with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. ‘Some believe the Fibs to be Falsesiders, what do you say?’ ‘Nothin’! I don’t look anything like ‘em.’ Tox protested. ‘How do you know that?’ Cutter persisted jokingly. ‘I saw their heads on the way here.’ ‘Oh them! Not sure you can go much by them. The Griddragons don’t tend to leave much in tact, if you get my meaning.’ Cutter chuckled. ‘Well they can breathe under water and I can’t.’ Tox parried with a shrug. ‘So, should we dunk you in the feeder stream to prove it?’ Cutter finished with a cruel laugh, with which, to Tox’s great annoyance, the others joined in. After that the talk as they ate was initially directed towards Rah. ‘How interesting to see a Tuss again,’ Shapes enthused. ‘Sad I suppose, that you’re the last. Maybe Tuss ingenuity is what Realland’s been missing.’ The others seemed to agree. ‘What are your plans?’ Rah’s replies were given through mouthfuls of the fish broth and were full of is new words and phrases: “Dude,” “keeping it real,” “cool,” “very much a work-in-progress,” “awesome,” “telling it like it is.” Tox began to feel jealous. 240

Omnilith After all Rah is from Realland, where as I’m from another world. Surely that should be more interesting to talk about. He then heard these thoughts begin to feed back as thought-splash and he had to concentrate very hard on thinking “him” to avoid this being detected. ‘You can use “haw” as well.’ Cutter turned and said to Tox, with a patronising smile. ‘Huh?’ ‘If you think “him” and then “haw” it sounds even more like your breathing and not trying to disguise your thinking.’ ‘I’m…. not …. Eh!’ The conversation round the table had stopped. ‘We call it “himming and hawing.” Most of us have done it, usually in our embarrassing teens, before “we got the picture,” as we say,’ Cutter continued more gently. ‘So picture thoughts don’t echo?’ Tox improvised the question to distract the company from his embarrassment. ‘They do but are not so easily picked up by the senses.’ Masonet explained. ‘A thought word sounds like the word, so when it echoes back, the listener can often make out what it probably is, but how someone pictures something in their mind can be very different from how others do and so it’s not so easy.’ ‘So what’s got you himming and hawing then?’ Loket butted in mischievously. ‘Is it me?’ She added with a flick of her heavy eyebrows that Tox didn’t like at all. ‘No!’ Tox replied with mixture of horror and disgust. ‘Of course not!’ He realised that he must have said this too emphatically because everyone, including Rah was now looking at him in silence. He felt he had to say something. 241

TOX ‘Look, why are you so on my case?’ ‘Yeah! What’s with you and the Main Man, Sister?’ Rah came to his friends support. Loket shrunk back intimidated. ‘Perhaps My granddaughter is only being polite. Perhaps she is trying not to think what you forbid yourself to think,’ Masonet said cocking her head and raising the twin grey veils of her pointed eyebrows in challenge to Tox. ‘What do you mean?’ Tox asked nervously. ‘You’ve hardly touched your casserole.’ Tox realised that after the first spoonful his appetite had deserted him completely. ‘Yeah! Well… it was eh!.. is ... is delicious but I ….’ ‘It’s what I would expect,’ Masonet said plainly. ‘Eh! What’s that?’ Tox had a strong unexplained feeling that he did not want to know the answer. The others round the table were silent in anticipation of how Masonet would reply. ‘It’s a symptom, I’m afraid, a symptom of being disconnected. Hunger, thirst, pain, are only memories in the disconnected state. When a sensation is awoken by a smell or sound or something else, it is quickly satisfied and evaporates like a wisp of steam in the wind. Sometimes the only way of coping with massive distress is to detach the senses. Or perhaps you are only being what you are, displaying the traits of all people from…’ Masonet hesitated trying to find the right word out of politeness. ‘…eh! your world. Perhaps confirming our preconceptions?’ Tox hadn’t followed completely what Masonet had said. Have I just been called a liar? ‘Lllliarrrr!’ Lllliarrr!’ ‘Lllliarrr!’ came echoing back in his thought-splash voice. God what a place! I can’t even have an embarrassing silence! 242

Omnilith ‘zzzing ssssilenssss!’ ‘zzzing ssssilenssss!’ ‘zzzing ssssilenssss!’ the walls sang back. ‘When we’ve finished eating I can show you where I work.’ Shapes offered helpfully. ‘Yeah! Great!’ Tox snapped gratefully at the offered escape route. The others went back to eating. Tox didn’t fell hungry at all. She’s right, Tox had to admit to himself and of course moments later to all assembled round the table in perfect thought-splash surround-sound. He turned to himming and hawing in desperation. Thankfully, out of politeness, the others returned to questioning Rah on his family history and future plans. Tox was grateful that there was no desert. After the single course Shapes kept his promise and lead Tox and Rah away, using the door through which the three men had entered earlier. They followed through a short corridor that opened onto a view that took Tox’s breath away. Below them was a vast circular workshop floor. As far as Tox could see there were cutters hewing and chipping away at lumps of stone of all sizes. Much of the raw stone being worked on below was white like the furniture they had seen carved out of the stone of Edlokeep’s home or like the building itself with its balconyringed walls and its high, gentle dome, that enclosed the busy scene below. The white marble was being carved into all sorts of items from chairs to weapons like the maces they had seen the guards out front with earlier. In the distance to the left, a section of the vast work area was exclusively dedicated to work on pure black stone. There the cutters seemed to be shaping the black marble stone into concave discs like TV receptors. Tox’s eyes continued his scan of the hall and eventually brought his eyes to focus on the area beneath the balcony on which he stood. Suddenly he froze. Immediately below was a large group of workers cutting implements and figures in a pure grey stone.

243

TOX ‘Grayend!’ Tox exclaimed involuntarily. Shapes swung his head around in surprise. ‘Of course! We revere Grayend. There is strong demand for this particular line.’ ‘Why?’ ‘He looks after the taken. He takes their pain, so they are not tortured beneath the waves.’ ‘But all he does to me is bring me pain.’ ‘I think he merely shows you your pain, so he can take it away.’ ‘No!’ Tox said forcefully enough to indicate he was not willing to consider Shapes’ hypothesis further. Shapes shrugged. ‘Hey! Take it easy little fellow. Come on. Let me show you my den of creativity.’ Shapes indicated right with a nod of his head. As they moved off, Tox took another look down at the series of partially formed Grayends. A shudder ran through him as he followed the other two along the curved walkway to a stairwell. Two flights up, along another walkway to the right, Shapes led the way through an open portal – circular of course – into a smallish room – (domed of course!). It was almost empty apart from a couple of white marble chairs, both of which reclined at an angle. Over each of these chairs was what looked like a halo of pure black marble, suspended from the ceiling. In front and facing the two chairs, was a single disc of the black marble attached to the wall. Huh! Reminds me of the dentist’s. ‘Wow Dude! Amazing! How cool, an imager!’ Without waiting to be asked, Rah launched himself up onto the nearest of the chairs and lay back. He then reached up and lowered the black marble halo over his head, until it was level with his eyes. 244

Omnilith ‘How cool can you get?’ Almost immediately, an image began to appear on the disc of the black marble in front of the chairs. At first the image looked like a shapeless lump of rock on a plinth with waves of coloured light washing over it from top to bottom. It was like the three-d imaging Tox had seen on computers back home. Gradually the shape of the stone image changed, as though it was being carved by the waves of coloured light. There was the shape of a figure – a man - standing on a rather grand plinth. He was dressed in long flowing robes and was stood in a dramatic pose, with his right hand on his heart and a solemn expression. ‘Ha!’ Tox couldn’t help an explosive laugh escaping as he recognised the figure’s face. It’s Rah. The figure’s head was profiled, so that his pointed features were contrasted against the pale blue sky, now visible behind the statue. Finally, squiggly symbols appeared carved into the plinth base of the statue. What’s that about? Instantly, as though in answer to Tox’s thought, a flourish of the wavy light washed across the symbols and suddenly Tox could read what it said: RAH TUSS LAST OF THE ANCIENT HOUSE OF TUSS FREE MERCHANTS TO REALLAND AND BEYOND – MOTTO: NOTHING WASTED. ‘Naw Dude - too heavy. Keep it simple, Man.’ Following Rah’s words the image returned to an un-carved lump of rock. The waves of light wafted over it again, this time producing an image of Rah dressed in a hoody and tracksuit bottoms. He had trainers on his feet and was stood on a skateboard and his body was angled to give the impression 245

TOX of balancing while in motion. This time his right hand held a mopho. Finally the inscription on the ramp-shaped plinth read: RAH TUSS – REAL DUDE. ‘How cool is that?’ ‘How did you do that?’ Tox asked ‘Black stone, tuned properly by an expert, can reflect picture thoughts,’ Shapes answered. ‘Like white stone reflects word-thoughts. That’s why it is highly prized. It can be put to all sorts of uses. Storytellers transmit the stories they create, journalists communicate news items, etc.’ Tox looked closer at the black disc. He could see no cables or electronics, which he usually associated with making such things work. ‘But how does it work?’ ‘How good are you with the science of things?’ Shapes tone clearly showed that he doubted Tox’s abilities in this area. Huh! I don’t even understand how the light switch at home works! ‘Not very!’ Shapes smiled and resumed. ‘This one’s a specialist imager. It’s been refined especially for my work.’ ‘How?’ ‘It focuses on the subject’s thoughts of how they would like to be remembered - so that I can design an appropriate monument, customised to individual preferences.’ ‘Remembered for what? I’ve never thought of being remembered.’ ‘Oh? Most people have some idea of how they would like to be remembered after they’re gone - even if it’s tucked away at the back of their minds.’ ‘Not me.’ Tox gave a dismissive shrug of his shoulders and a wrinkling of his nose. 246

Omnilith ‘Hmm! Perhaps in your current …eh…situation… you should give it some thought.’ Tox said nothing. ‘Hey Dude give it a go Man,’ Rah suggested pushing up the black halo and sitting up. ‘Naw, there’s no point.’ ‘Whatcha gotta lose Man? It’s so cool. You’ll love it. For real, Man.’ Rah jumped down onto the floor. Shapes waved his hand towards the chair. Huh! I don’t want to think what I gotta lose. But they’ll think I’m chicken if I don’t. Reluctantly Tox climbed up onto the chair. Once there, with his hands clenched together on his belly, Shapes lowered the black halo down in front of his eyes. ‘What do I do?’ ‘Picture how you want to be remembered.’ ‘I can’t. I told you!’ ‘Then think of others you know. How will they remember you?’ 'Tox thought of the kids he knew at school. None of ‘em would be bothered remembering me for very long if I was gone. He thought of all the ones he had helped through his business. No not even my clients. T-K-Q maybe – for a bit – but not for long. He’d soon find a new bro to hang with. ‘What about family? – relations?’ Shapes suggested. Relations! No way! They don’t even remember my birthday anymore. Dad? Huh! Not much chance - with his new family in Canada. Mum? Mum would. Suddenly Tox could see an upright slab of speckled white marble in front of him. It seemed three dimensional and so real he thought he could reach out 247

TOX and touch it. The waves of coloured light were back - washing over it from top to bottom. The shape changed slightly. The sides were straight the top curved in a gentle arch. The slab was about four inches thick. It was smooth and shinny but with darker flaws in it than the marble he had seen everywhere around him in Omnilith. A rectangle appeared in the middle of the slab about three-quarters up and framed a photograph. Tox focused in. It’s a photo of me! - the one Mum keeps on the sideboard. With a final flourish of the coloured waves, an inscription appeared below this: IN LOVING MEMORY OF TERRENCE, OSIN, XSAVIOUR O’SHEA th

5th OCTOBER 1998– 15 NOVEMBER 2008 CHERRISHED SON AND COMPANION DEEPLY MISSED ‘Ah! Now I see why you’re called “Tox”.’ Shapes said. ‘This is stupid!’ Tox pulled his head down and out from under the stone halo. ‘What are you trying to prove? I’m only ten for God’s sake. Mum would say you’re morbid.’ ‘So the little businessman who hid so much from Mum now wants reality filtered by her rules, does he?’ Shapes said with gentle sarcasm. ‘How do you know about my business?’ ‘Because you were thinking about it just a few moments ago. But hey! Easy little fella. What you saw was just your first thoughts - of how others might remember you. So now let’s take it further. How would you like to be remembered? It can be a monument. It doesn’t even have to be in stone – although round here metal or wood would be prohibitively expensive – especially since the Tusses ceased trading inter-nations.’ 248

Omnilith Shapes squinted at Rah. ‘Not thinking of starting up again are you by any chance?’ ‘No Man! Too heavy – too much negativity!’ Shapes turned back to Tox. ‘It doesn’t even have to be a recognisable monument. Some people have buildings named in their honour, some towns, others whole countries, planets, roses, drinks, recipes, species of animals or birds, insects, diseases, inventions, discoveries, events, prizes, maybe even a day of the year or week or even a month. Some are remembered for the way they lived, some for the way they died. It often depends on what you’ve done. So what have you done? What would be a good way to remember you?’ ‘This is stupid! I’m only ten. I haven’t had time to do nothin’.’ ‘Maybe first you need to decide who you would like to be remembered by. Who do you try to impress? You know – when you do the things you do who do you wish was watching you?’ ‘No one. I mean…’ Tox frowned. I shouldn’t have to be thinkin’ about such things… What’s that? He was distracted by an increasing noise from outside in the main work hall. Shapes immediately stood still listening. It was alarmed voices that seemed to be coming from the walls themselves. ‘Amfib attack! Amfib attack!’ The message was shouted over and over by lots and lots of voices almost in unison. The air was filled with echoing information that Tox found difficult to decipher but thought he could make out that the attack was “out front.” ‘Got to go!’ Shapes said with a sharp intake of breath. He turned to leave but stopped by the entrance and turned thoughtfully to the pair.

249

TOX ‘It’ll be better if you don’t stay here. The Cutter’s of this world see purpose in everything. They could well see you two as accomplices.’ ‘But were not! How could we be?’ ‘Omni’s normal defence cycle was broken by you distracting the Griddragons.’ ‘How, Man?’ ‘The feeding of the Griddragons is timed so that the fish canal is re-flooded by the slow incoming tide. Normally the tide is too slow to be used by Fibs as a conduit for attack. But this morning’s delay has meant that by the time feeding finished, the tide was full. So when Prime-lock was opened, a bore of water flooded in and it appears the Fibs used that to launch this attack. You have to admit it’s a bit of a coincidence.’ Tox felt guilt knot his stomach but said nothing. ‘Wow! Sorry Man.’ Rah responded. ‘Better you leave by Blackrockend - follow the women and children. I also think that’s your best bet for finding the portal you seem to be seeking.’ ‘Hey! Cool Dude. But where exactly?’ ‘Not certain, but maybe in Aranea’s cavedom – look, I must go!’ Shapes turned sharply and left. ‘Who is this Aranea?’ Tox turned and asked Rah. ‘Eh! A Queen – sort of.’ Tox and Rah followed Shapes out. From their vantage point on the walkway they saw the enormous hall below was already almost empty, apart from a few workers queuing to leave away off to the left. Many were already armed with heavy maces. The cavernous dome of the place resounded with a unified thought-splash like a growled football chant but much angrier. Tox listened hard but could not make out the words. The two companions

250

Omnilith watched Shapes join the back of the queue, without ever glancing back in their direction.

251

TOX

20 At last contact!

Even though it was a familiar sound the suddenness of it erupting into the harsh echoes of the room startled him. He opened his eyes. There was a strange light and shadows that swayed. Then he remembered where he was. It’s Crew Den. Ravi looked around. He was still alone. He must have fallen asleep. He felt stiffness in his shoulder and neck. Then he realised what had woken him. The alert for an incoming text on his Crew mopho had penetrated his uncomfortable sleep. He sat forward and scrambled impatiently in his pocket for his mopho. Chef! Man, why does that always happen? It was the wrong mopho. He had extracted his home mopho. There were three missed calls, all from Mum. It showed the time as 20:11. Since joining the Crew he had kept this mopho on total silent mode - not even vibrate. It wasn’t cool for his dumb family to intrude when he was hanging with the Crew. Dad had insisted that Ravi’s mopho was on monthly bills and, despite Ravi’s protests, Dad checked the list each month and questioned him about anything unusual. The family suspected that Ravi was “getting in with a bad crowd.” His brother Raj had made things worse with exaggerated stories from school. But SisR had sorted it. He had given Ravi a second mopho, 252

At last contact! dedicated to use on Crew business and Ravi could pay him back over time. And now Ravi had a text, a text that could only come from the brothers in the Crew. So, cramming the home mopho back in his pocket Ravi picked up his Crew mopho from where it had slipped out of his hand in his sleep. Ravi’s eyes widened in surprise - almost shock. It’s from SisR! SisR himself! SisR himself has sent me a text! Respect or what? Hurriedly Ravi thumbed it open. ‘BE AT PALACE 20MINS’ Ravi was shaking with joy and excitement. The bro’s ain’t deserted me! Init! They musta had to go somewhere, init? - to check something out or get something, or whatever. It don’t matter now. SisR wants me in, Man, back where I belong. Awesome! The Crew’s everything. The Crew’s my life init? - My respect! The Palace was on Downhill High Road. It was full of noisy machines with strobing lights, where game addicted kids honed their skills, among the desperate gamblers, that smelt of alcohol and stale sweat. The Crew sometimes collected dues there. Ravi only gave a flashing thought as to why SisR wanted to meet there, as opposed to coming to the Den. He rose excitedly to his feet, stopped at the door and went back to extinguish the oil-lamp, then, through the pink and blue light-ghosts floating before his eyes, he felt his way out into the chill of the night air. Immediately outside the entrance, Ravi froze. There was the deep mechanical rhythm of a helicopter reverberating off every surface. By the sound of it, it was not passing through. He turned his head to try and gauge its direction. It sounded like it was coming from over the playing fields on the far side of the bridge. Ravi pushed through the darkness of the embankment 253

TOX foliage. Branches and twigs invisible in the darkness, scratched at his face and tugged at his clothing. The noise was getting louder. Chef! It’s on the move. Ravi froze again. Through the arch of the bridge he could see the harsh beam of a search light poking straight down. It painted the skeleton bushes and weeds of the far bank in a cold ghostly brilliance. Chef! Is it looking for me? It don’t matter, I know where I gotta be - and nothin’s going to stop me. I ain’t gonna mess up this time for nothin’. I should a never stayed at school, Man - never! Ignoring the stinging pain and damage the sharp twigs and branches were inflicting on his flesh, he dropped straight down on to the path that had replaced the discontinued railway before he was even born. The night seemed even darker after looking at the light beam from the chopper. Ravi ran as fast as he could in the direction of the High Road. ‘Bob! Two o’clock - got something!’ Rupert Maxwell squawked into his mike over the reverberating din of the engine. On the thermal-imaging screen before him, a bright white silhouette glared out against the duller outlines of the background. Bob Murdoch swung the stick to his right and the helicopter obeyed with a surge in engine volume. Rupert swivelled the ball under his right hand and realigned the focus of his infrared camera. The helicopter’s new direction took it swiftly over the bridge then more slowly above the dark pathway on which Ravi was running. ‘TOS Central over?’ Bob squawked dispassionately into his helmet mike. ‘Go ahead Beater X-ray,’ a voice cackled back. ‘We have a potential sighting. Looks to fit the size profile for the target group but is solo, repeat solo, over.’ ‘Has potential – best we’ve had so far – investigate further, over.’ ‘Roger, TOS Central - Target is currently proceeding on foot in a northerly direction along the Little Eastern footpath.’ 254

At last contact! As the stark light beam spotlighted the fleeing Ravi, Rupert glimpsed the terror on their target’s little face. ‘We now have both visual and infrared contact, over.’ ‘Roger, Beater X-ray.’ Beater X-ray had earlier been instructed to search the recreational areas to the south of the town for a group of boys with an average age of ten years old. In the first twenty minutes they identified three dog-walkers, a couple walking arm-in-arm and two separate foxes, one of which casually cantered away and the other of which had stood its ground and simply stared back at the thunderous spotlight. So this was a lot more interesting. Ravi now realised that he was in trouble. Seconds after hitting the path running he felt the inescapable embarrassment of the blinding starkness of the full-beam searchlight. Eyes wide in terror he veered sharply left and crashed back into the growth on the embankment. This time there was no pathway or animal trail, so progress was slow, painful and filled with the noise of cracking twigs. Soon there were adult voices shouting behind him, ordering him to stop. Instinctively he had doubled back towards the safety of the Den. Overhead the harsh light was as relentless as the ugly rattle of the chopper engine. As he pushed a way through, with his eyes mostly closed to protect them against the sharp twigs that constantly scratched at his cheeks, Ravi uttered nothing except asthmatic gasps for breath. He was so scared he couldn’t think. The aggressive adult voices were gaining on him. Soon he could hear large bodies crashing through the branches right behind him. ‘Stop!’ a deep voice commanded. Ravi disobeyed and tried to push harder, which only increased his levels of pain. Then Ravi let out an involuntary whimper as he felt a heavy hand firmly grasp his small shoulder. He felt a warm liquid trickle on his thigh and feared the worst.

255

TOX

21 Perfect World

Having retraced their steps along the walkway, Tox and Rah cut through a passageway that led out to another walkway that overlooked the street from which they had entered Edlokeep’s home. Here the air was filled with thought-splashes but there was no unison. Instead a cacophony of fearful cries rebounded off the walls like popcorn in a sealed saucepan. On the street below there was a disjointed procession of refugees, almost exclusively women and children. They were all travelling from right to left as the pair looked down. On both sides of this sorry stream of refugees Tox saw men and woman, all armed with maces of various fearsome designs, attempting to make their way from left to right, against the flow. Their faces were gritted in determination and suppression of fear. Tox picked out some of the thought-splashes of the children as they passed. Many protested at having to go, others declared tiredness, others sulkily queried why they had to go, while some wanted to know where they were going. But no matter what their echoing thought-splashes whispered, there was a common fearful tone. Tox and Rah descended the three flights of stairs and tried to join the procession unnoticed. Immediately people moved away from them. The thought-splashes were clearly and purposefully being transmitted by many of the adults as well as the children and betrayed a mixture of fear and disgust. ‘Fibzzzzzz!’ ‘Deviantstststststs!’ ‘Traitorrsrsrsrss!’ 256

Perfect World Tox tried to ignore these and the looks of suspicion and hate as best he could, while trying to look as anonymous as possible as they all filed along. After about ten minutes Tox noticed that the entrances to the dwellings on either side became fewer and further between. Next the cobbles under foot petered out and the road narrowed to a gorge between two irregular cliff walls of unrefined stone. Increasingly bushes of pale green bracken fronds hung like giant motionless fingers reaching out from the rock overhead. It felt warmer and damper and sometimes the moisture made the rock slippery underfoot. Another thing Tox noticed here was that the echoes of thoughtsplashes were less and less audible and sounded more like a background muttering hum or voices heard from under the water in the swimming pool. The light filtering through the rock walls was dimmer here, as if impurities were hindering its passage. Another ten minutes and the procession emptied into a large quarry. Here the walls were of the grey marble that Tox had seen implements and the statues of Grayend being hewn from, in the arena of the workshop they had left less than half an hour before. Thousands of unhappy refugees were already in the cavernous opening, shuffling about trying to find suitable spaces to rest. From beneath yard-brush eyebrows suspicious eyes followed Tox and Rah as they gingerly picked their way through groups sat without order on the rough floor. The pair apologised frequently as they went, without gaining a single polite response. Tox felt guilty but did not really know why. At least here my thoughts ain’t echoed. A bit more then halfway across the cavernous space Tox heard a familiar voice. ‘Rah!’ It was Loket. She was standing about twenty feet away with her grandmother Masonet. Masonet seemed uncomfortable that Loket had shown recognition of the two odd strangers, so much so, that Tox decided not to embarrass her

257

TOX further by going over. Rah had no such concerns and was already making his way, stepping over and between the legs of people seated on the ground. ‘Hey Dudesses! Really cool to catch friendly faces in this cauldron of misery, Man.’ ‘Hey!’ Loket replied. Masonet said nothing and kept here face as expressionless as the surrounding stone of the quarry’s walls, while she glanced anxiously around to see who was taking notice. ‘How you doin’?’ Rah continued. ‘In the middle of a Fibs attack?’ Loket replied. ‘Sorry, silly question.’ Tox decided to follow Rah over, as standing on his own, the focal point of so many hostile eyes, felt worse than embarrassing the only locals he knew. ‘Why do the Fibs attack you?’ ‘How can we know what’s in the minds of such savages?’ Masonet answered unable to restrain her anger any longer. ‘For sport? For fun? Because they can?’ Masonet’s anger was now even apparent to Rah who went quiet. Masonet turned her eyes sparkling with anger on Tox. ‘What are you doing here anyway?’ ‘Eh! Shapes told us to go to Blackrockend,’ Tox replied apologetically. ‘I meant here in our world.’ Masonet said sternly, her eyes still glancing around to see who was observing them. ‘I don’t want to be here. I’m trying to get home.’ Tox was shocked at the complete lack of sympathy and understanding from Masonet, compared to how she had related to him earlier back in her home. ‘If you show me the way I’ll be gone in a flash.’ Tox’s voice was full of little boy hurt at being treated so unfairly. ‘That way!’ 258

Perfect World Masonet pointed towards a dark gash in the grey walls of the surrounding rock. It was slightly to the right of the direction they had been going in. ‘Blackrockend is that way.’ With this Masonet turned sharply away. Loket flashed an embarrassed smile then griped her grandmother’s dress. Tox looked at Rah and with a shrug, turned in the direction that Masonet had indicated. As the odd pair left without looking back, the foul silent looks continued, like hatred spat from those they stepped around, or over, or merely passed anywhere close to. It began to get in on Tox so much that he wished he could run. To his relief the small groups of disgruntled refugees began to thin noticeably as they neared the grey walls ahead. As Tox had suspected, the dark gash in the wall towards which Masonet had directed them, turned out to be a walkable gorge. ‘That was real heavy Man!’ Rah sighed as they finally entered the passageway. ‘They don’t need thought-splash with looks like that,’ Tox agreed as he looked around at their new surroundings. The rock walls were less then ten feet apart and it seemed to grow darker with every step. Tox examined the great cathedrals of rock rising steeply up on either side. Both sides were now totally black. The uneven surfaces supported many more pale green bushes of feather-like bracken fronds. Sections of the walls were coated in green moss where water trickled down. On both sides the rough stone strewn pathway was edged with gutters of white marble, carved as channels for collecting the water that trickled down the walls. These strips of white stone also emitted light, like fibre optic cables, which had once fascinated Tox, when he was six. The black stone walls did not seem to emit any light in the way the white and grey stone had before this. With his head tilted as far back on his neck as possible, Tox saw a gash of bright blue in the darkness, hundreds of feet above. He recognised it as sky and, although it looked dazzlingly bright in contrast to the pitch black of 259

TOX the gorge walls, it was not bright enough to add significantly to the level of light down where he was. He lowered his head slowly as his neck had begun to hurt. The pair carried on uneventfully for about another ten minutes, until they found their progress blocked by a mound of enormous sharp-edged boulders. It looked like these rocks were piled right up to the top of the ravine, where the stack brought the strip of blue sky to an abrupt end. At the foot of this massive obstacle a pool had been formed by water seeping through the mass of irregularly shaped rocks at several points and trickling down. Tox’s heart sank. He was tired and he realised they were going to have to climb this daunting obstacle. Even when we get up there, there’ll be deep water on the other side. I can’t take anymore of this. It’s so not fair. Why is it happening to me? ‘Chef!’ ‘What’s happening Man?’ ‘I’ve had enough Rah.’ Rah smiled privately. This was the first time Tox had called him by his name in polite conversation. Progress, real progress, Man? ‘I’m getting nowhere. I’m no nearer getting home or even knowing how to get there, or where it is. I’m sick of it Rah! Sick of it! Do you hear?’ ‘I do …Brother Tox.’ Rah really wanted to say something helpful. ‘But we gotta keep goin’, Man. I mean we know we can’t go back there. I mean ‘cause we been there and we know what’s there, and all.’ ‘What’s the point? Maybe there is no way back.’

260

Perfect World ‘Hey! Man, Realland has plenty of interchange points. We just gotta find them. We got here. Grayend uses ‘em. My people used to know all the passageways. They used to travel at will, Man, between all the worlds.’ ‘Then why don’t you know? Why can’t you get us out of here?’ ‘Cause I don’t know which one it is, there are so many but not all go to … home, Man. But we’ll find it Tox. You’ll see, Man.’ ‘Great!’ Tox said sarcastically. ‘I’m stuck with the last of a long line of interdimensional travellers but he’s the only one of his kind who doesn’t know how to do it!’ The pair sat against a rock listening to the dripping and trickling of the water. Tox eventually broke the silence, his bad temper having had sufficient time to subside. ‘Ok! We climb.’ The tone of his voice indicated he had rescued some determination from the swamp of his tiredness. The pair started up the steep climb. The edges of the black boulders were sharp and hurt Tox’s hands but now that they had started, they made good progress. Once again, despite his odd appearance, Rah’s superior fitness showed and he quickly built up a lead. So, while Tox was still sweating in effort twenty feet down from the top, Rah had already reached it. ‘Wow Man!’ Tox heard Rah whisper without turning away from whatever he was looking at. ‘Whazzat!’ ‘What?’ Tox managed between pants for breath, as he scrambled up the last few feet, annoyed at having to wait to find out. ‘Wha….’ The shock of what Tox saw stunned him. Peering over the uppermost boulder he saw a bush strewn plateau of black rock split in two by the gorge. However, where the part of the gorge they had already travelled far below 261

TOX was largely dry, the section in front of where they clung behind the topmost boulders was a long narrow lake, the surface of which was only about fifteen feet down. As far as the eye could see, to the left of the gorge, a series of large flexible pipes or hoses hung over its bank and from these gallons and gallons of water cascaded down into the narrow lake. The nearest of these was about twenty paces away and looked to be made from some kind of oily purple seaweed. The strands of piping seemed to appear out of the plentiful bushes that covered much of the top of the black plateau to the left. Tox realised the rock pile he had just climbed was a crude dam holding back the thin dark lake. He was mesmerised by the roar and volume of new water pumping in every second. Suddenly there was movement on the gorge edge ahead in the distance. First Tox thought it was an illusion caused by the heat haze rising from the sun-roasted black rock, like hot air from a barbeque. But then by squinting he made out dark shapes moving near the edge of the gorge top. ‘What are they?’ Tox ducked back down so that only his eyes and above peeped over the top of the dam. ‘Don’t know Man. But we need to get passed them. Maybe they’ll be friendly dudes.’ Huh! That’s not what my experience tells me. Nothing is ever straight forward here. Everything twists in some mad way and these things look big, even from here. ‘They might just be quarry workers from Omni,’ Rah suggested optimistically. ‘They don’t move right for that.’ ‘Hmmm! Something don’t smell right neither.’ Rah already had his long nose raised over the top of their cover. The pair spent a few silent moments trying to see better through the heat haze. Whoever they were observing, they did not seem to be involved in quarrying. Some whizzed about at speed over the surface of the rock, while others 262

Perfect World seemed to be able to dive into the water of the lake then leap the fifteen feet out again onto the side of the gorge. ‘We better go around them.’ ‘Left or right, Man?’ ‘I don’t know! There are fewer bushes on the right and it would be easier to run if we had to. And I can’t see none of them on that side.’ ‘Yes there are, look Man!’ There was movement on the right bank – further away but definitely movement. ‘Let’s go left, Man. We can hide behind those big pipes for cover.’ Tox saw the logic. ‘Ok!’ he agreed but didn’t move to go. ‘Right Man let’s go!’ Rah climbed up on the bank and darted over behind the nearest bush. After a deep intake of breath Tox followed. Now that the foliage was their only cover it seemed much flimsier than it had looked from the top of the dam. The gaps between the clumps of toasted beige bushes also seemed unsafely larger, as the pair scampered from bush to bush. Almost immediately they had to negotiate the first of the pipes, as it lay across the surface of the dark rock like some monstrous purple worm. It was segmented like a worm, each section about the length of two adults end-to-end. It was about two and a half feet high and smelt, looked and felt like seaweed. Tox could hear the water gushing through it. He was tempted to lie against it to cool down but Rah was already on the move again. Crouching down as they went the pair followed the line of the pipe away from the gorge. The heat from the sun was stifling. It’s like when I was in Benidorm with Mum. Tox could even feel it through the tops of his trainers. The ground was difficult and uneven and several times they had to make their way around 263

TOX sudden steep drops in the night-black rock. Spotting these drops was made all the harder because the density of the prickly foliage often obscured them until the last second. ‘Argh!’ Rah exclaimed, as having pushed through a patch of dense fern fronds, he had to fall backwards and grab hold of Tox to stop himself slipping over the edge of a sheer cliff. ‘Chef!’ Both of them lay back hearts thumping. ‘That was close,’ Tox said, for want of anything better. ‘Too close Man!’ Rah panted. When he had recovered Tox sat up and peered through the fronds. To their left there were five hundred-foot cliffs curving away, back in the direction towards Omnilith. What was most amazing was the rock. Its colour phased from jet-black near where they were crouched, through a grey section to dazzling white, in the distance. It’s like some weird layered ice-cream. From the base of the white cliffs, a flat stretch of sandy soil spread out and eventually formed the canals and grid of salt-water ponds that they had passed through earlier, on their initial approach to Omnilith, escorted by the Griddragons. This span of sand narrowed rapidly as it got closer to where they now crouched, until immediately below them, the sea was only about twenty feet out. The view was spectacular but what really left the pair openmouthed was what they saw when they looked to their right. Here, where the waves washed directly against the black cliff walls, the whole scene was glistening with activity. Everywhere was swarming with large creatures. Even though the nearest of these were some way off, Tox could see that they were considerably taller than even the biggest man. But they did not look like men. They did have arms and gangs of them were using these to haul green nets full of equipment up towards the cliff top from the sea far below. Hundreds of 264

Perfect World others were using dark cables to haul themselves up to join others assembling in platoons on the cliff tops. Tox saw that the pipes that were carrying the water to the narrow lake, stretched out of the sea and up the cliff walls like masses of thick dreadlocks. But this was where it got really weird. Tox noticed that most of those gathered on the cliff top seemed to be balancing on what looked like large, dark-green beach balls, a bit like pictures he had seen of seals in a circus. As he squinted against the heat haze, something dawned on him. They don’t have any legs or feet. Instead they ended in a flared shape like the flippers of fishtails. ‘Wow! Sweet Oasis, Dude! They must be …’ Tox cut in on Rah. ‘Amfibs! I… I… think it’s an invasion force.’ ‘Heavy! How do you know?’ ‘Seen it on TV.’ They watched mesmerised at the sheer numbers. ‘We gotta warn Loket, Shaper and the others.’ Tox whispered earnestly. ‘What about getting us home?’ ‘I know!’ Tox said, annoyance clearly audible in his whisper. ‘But we can’t just leave them. We can’t just let them die. Can we?’ Rah didn’t reply. ‘Anyway we can’t get by this way can we? We’ll have to go back.’ There was a further pause. ‘Maybe we could rap with them.’ Rah eventually whispered. Tox looked at him to see if he really meant it. He did. ‘Are you dumb? Dur! Oh yeah sure!’

265

TOX Tox loaded his reply with as much sarcasm as he possibly could, which Rah obviously missed as he immediately stood up out of their cover. ‘Great! Lets do!’ Tox grabbed hold of him and manhandled him to the ground, twigs and branches pricking them where they fell. ‘Nutter!’ he whispered as loud as he dared, having pushed his face as close to Rah’s as he could. ‘I didn’t mean it!’ ‘Then why did you say it, Man?’ ‘I … I ….’ Tox was too flabbergasted to explain. ‘Look, never mind. That won’t work. They don’t look like reasonable sorts to me and we were told what they do to the people of Omnilith.’ ‘But my family built a business empire on rappin’ with people, Man. If you don’t rap you never find out what people want and what they got to trade.’ ‘Yeah! And just how many of you are there left, exactly?’ Tox said hoping the cruelty would kill the debate. It almost did but Rah had to have the final word. ‘And where was our back-up in the Tusses’ hour of need?’ Tox didn’t know what to say and so said nothing. Carefully they picked their way back along the side of the prone pipe towards the dam. It took them longer this time, as they stopped frequently to ensure that their presence had not been detected. At the gorge the water level was noticeably higher. It was now less than the height of a man from the top and more and more cascaded in every second, churning the surface to froth along the entire length of the lake. With the water black from the rock that enclosed it, it reminded Tox of a huge bath of cola. He was sweating profusely and was instantly thirsty again.

266

Perfect World Remember it’s sea-water. And anyway Masonet said I’m not really thirsty – just remembering what thirsty feels like, or somethin’. He scraped his dry swelling tongue with his top teeth. Huh! Feels real enough to me. There was a twenty-yard gap between the bushes that they were crouched in and the top of the dam. Rah grabbed Tox by the arm and signalled with a wide-eyed nod of his head for him to look to their left. Chef! About one-hundred-and-fifty feet away there was a group of about twenty Amfibs gathered by the edge of the gorge. Some were balancing skilfully on the dark-green beach balls. Suddenly five of them leapt into the air in unison and splashed down into the foaming waters. Almost as if by reflex, five more leapt like huge dark salmon up out of the dark waters, carried out a neat synchronised somersault in mid air and landed with great precision onto waiting beach balls. Tox thought he could hear high-pitched squeaks and clicks but couldn’t be sure over the constant roar of the in-pouring water. He could see them clearer now. Their arms were well developed with bulging muscles. Their faces were pointed like dolphins or sharks and their skin was mostly grey but with some darker mottling and a whitish patch that ran down over the chest area from under their snouts. Of most concern was the speed and dexterity with which they manoeuvred over the rough terrain while balancing on their beach balls. It was almost like they were on mini hover-crafts. Tox estimated that their average speed was several times his fastest running speed, even when he was on the flat track at the sports ground. ‘Chef!’ he whispered. ‘We’ll have to make a run for it.’ ‘OK Dude! Maybe we’ll be faster climbing down than we were coming up,’ Rah said positively. This only worried Tox more. He hated climbing down even more than climbing up. He could never see where he was going, so it was more difficult to see where to place his feet. 267

TOX ‘You go first, Man - I think I can run faster so… Argh!’ Tox turned to see an Amfib on its ball towering over him. It had plucked Rah straight out of their cover and was holding him off the ground, examining the flailing Tuss at arm’s length. It looked incredibly strong. Before Tox could think, it swung its pointed snout upwards and emitted a loud series of fast clicking noises. Its teeth were smaller than Tox had imagined they would be – not so sharp nor anywhere near as numerous as those of the Griddragons. It’s a bit like an ugly dolphin but without an air-hole in the top of its head. Instead it had four slits down each side of what should be its neck. These opened and closed as it made the dreadfully loud clicking noises. Chef! It’s calling others, Tox thought coming to his senses, gotta do something – quick! Instinctively Tox had backed away out of the cover of the bushes and now stood about ten feet away in the clearing. He dared not turn around but imagined that the other Amfibs were now making their way rapidly towards him. Rah was dumb with terror. His eyes were bulging with fright. Think! Once again Tox looked around for something to use. There was nothing that would be effective against something so formidable and strong. Come on! Think! Then in desperation a desperate idea came to him. I’ve seen plenty of red-cards dished out for this - but there ain’t no referees here. - But will it work? The Amfib looked heavy. Tox felt very small and feeble. Rah let out a whimper as he dangled several feet off the ground. It has to work!

268

Perfect World Tox took two steps backwards, took in a deep breath, then charged as fast as he could accelerate. Five feet from the target Tox leapt feet first into the air while letting out an angry determined ‘YEARGH!’ His two-footed tackle landed hard towards the top of the Amfib’s beach ball. It was much more solid than Tox had anticipated. Tox felt the jolt of its resistance travel rapidly through his little body and instantly feared his effort would be too weak. For what seemed like an age nothing happened but then Tox saw what he assumed was shock spread over the Amfib’s strange face as, in slow motion, it began to overbalance and topple backwards. As it fell, the Amfib released its hold on Rah, who now went flying through the air, arms and legs doing pointless helicopter impressions. Tox rose to his feet. Shaking off the shock to his body from jolt of the impact he ran stiffly towards where he had seen Rah land in the dried bushes. Rah was still lying on his back dazed, when Tox rustled through. ‘Run!’ Tox ordered, grabbing Rah by the shoulder of his hoody and hauling him upright. Tox kept on going. Rah shook his head to clear it, then followed. Tox clattered through prickly bushes and leapt over dips in the uneven rock. Soon he heard multiple thumping sounds getting louder behind him. He guessed it must be the sound of the Amfibs’ flippers propelling their beach balls after him but he dared not look, in case it slowed him down. Suddenly something passed him about fifteen feet to his right. It was Rah, his face full of utter terror. He was right, he can outrun me. This means they’ll catch me first! The thumping sounds were now right behind him. He heard their burbling and cackling. Next they were clicking in unison, like a chant of cicadas. Instinctive curiosity forced his head to turn and look. He instantly wished he hadn’t. To his intense horror, several Amfibs rolled with ease over every obstacle less than ten feet behind him. He saw his nearest pursuer lean over in preparation to grab hold of him. Tox went to look back towards where he was going but suddenly the ground was gone from under him. 269

TOX The cliff? The empty gorge? His stomach felt sick. He braced himself for the jolt of landing hard on the black rock. It didn’t come. His head quickly dropped below the foliage that had hidden the drop and then he was descending though darkness. Now it was his turn to have his arms and legs flail pointlessly like stubby helicopter blades. Where am I going to land? Tox just kept falling. Nervously he looked down past his feet. There was light below – getting bigger. Woosh! He passed through a large wide cave, dimly lit by the light from below. Before he had time to observe anything he was out the bottom of it and into clear daylight. Immediately, strong wind rushed at him sweeping his hair back and flapping his clothes. It was strong enough to turn him around. He was now facing downwards and was terrified to see a rocky terrain a long way below. He felt like one of those skydivers he’d seen at the air-show during the summer. Ever since then, he’d fancied doing it himself but as he fell, he was mindful that he didn’t have the luxury of the parachute needed for the final manoeuvre that he had seen the people in red jumpsuits make. Suddenly there was a jolt, like Tox sometimes experienced in dreams where he was falling but this time he didn’t wake up in bed. Instead he found himself suspended in mid-air thousands of feet above a scene of different coloured rock formations. Some were stone coloured – as he would describe them – but others were purple, yellow, pink, green, red, brown, in fact almost every colour Tox could think of. But what‘s stopping me falling? The wind? Can the wind do that? Without thinking his reflexes had caused him to assume a skydiver’s pose with his arms like the prongs of a fork and his legs parted and bent at the knees. After a few seconds of not falling, he felt brave enough to try and turn round and look up at where he had come from. He found he could turn but something was sticking to him. He could feel it but couldn’t see it. It felt sticky 270

Perfect World on his bare hands and face. It felt a bit like the candyfloss mum always insisted on buying him at fairs, no matter how much he protested that he preferred Snake Bars. The more he moved the more he seemed to get entangled. He could even feel it on his eyelids but could still not see it. Now he was stuck facing upwards. Overhead he could see that there was a large overhang of black rock. Roughly in the middle of this was a gaping hole that darkened into a cave. Tox felt disorientated. Shouldn’t I be over the sea or somewhere in the interior of Omnilith? Tox turned again to make sure there was no sea below him and in achieving this, he managed to wrap himself up even tighter in the invisible stickiness. No, I saw right before, there’s no sea below. It doesn’t make sense. And what’s holding me up? I’m so tired of all this nonsense. It’s just so unreal. There must be some way of waking up out of this. I mean how ridiculous is this? The sun was shining. There were a couple of white clouds in the otherwise blue sky. The strong wind continued blowing all around him. It smells funny - like I never noticed wind ever smelling before. He was thousands of feet above a jagged rocky landscape but was suspended from falling by some increasingly sticky substance that was invisible. Tox shut his eyes tightly and tried concentrating on not being there. It didn’t work. Tox’s instincts told him he shouldn’t move about too much, being suspended as he was, so high up, without visible (or logical!) support but he couldn’t resist. I gotta try something, even if all I get is stickier. And more stuck is what he got. Eventually he couldn’t move. This is stupid! I feel all wrapped up like a mummy. Great! Now even my eyelids are stuck – open! 271

TOX After a while like this, Tox caught movement out of the corner of his eye. There was something sparkling in the sunshine. It was like a thin arc of light and it seemed to be coming towards him from the rim of the gaping hole above. It looked quite beautiful, like a string of tiny diamonds and was definitely descending towards him. What now? Tox tried to be blasé about it, after all that had happened to him recently but he couldn’t fully shed the fear that he could still fall. The arc grew tighter as it drizzled nearer and Tox realised that it was in fact ring shaped. Soon it was on him and all over him. He was still unable to move but as a couple of the tiny sparkles passed in front of his eyes he saw what they were. Ugh! Tiny spiders – they’re tiny spiders - but shiny - like polished micromirrors. Tox didn’t like spiders of any sort but he was totally powerless to do anything. After a few moments he felt a tightening around his whole body, then he felt a tug, before he began to ascend so quickly it took his breath away. He was ascending as fast as falling only in reverse. Once again he felt he had left his stomach behind, suspended in the sunshine and wind. He swept back up through the gaping cave mouth. He was moving so fast that he began to worry that he would go all the way back up to where he had parted company with the Fibs. With another jolt he came to a halt suspended about forty feet down from a dark rocky roof that was heavily hung with huge pointed stalactites. ‘Who do you think you are?’ It was a woman’s voice and a very cross woman from the tone of it. ‘How dare you?’ ‘Hmphhmph! Hmphhmph!’ Tox couldn’t answer. His lips were sealed shut. ‘Oh! How ridiculous!’ the woman said impatiently. ‘Bring it here.’ 272

Perfect World Tox felt his invisible cocoon being tugged sharply to his right. Because of the angle he was at he couldn’t see where he was being taken but increasingly, in the corner of his left eye, he could see the long drop again below him. Moments later he was lowered down and found himself lying at a pair of bare feet sticking out from under a full length mirror. At least that was Tox’s first impression. It was in fact a neck-to-ankle dress, which seemed to be made from the same highly reflective material as the tiny spiders that he had glimpsed close up, not long before. Reflected in this dress Tox could see himself, frozen by whatever invisible threads were binding him so tightly. He tried to turn his head to glimpse the woman’s face but could not. ‘Unbind its ugly little mouth,’ the woman ordered. To his utter amazement the hem of the woman’s dress began to unravel and wind rapidly towards his paralysed face. They‘re spiders! Her dress is made of spiders! The thin sparkling thread swept over Tox’s mouth and though it felt numb at first, he moved his lips around savouring the return of control over them. That dress must tickle something awful. ‘Cheeky child! The comfortableness of my attire is none of your business,’ the woman scolded. Chef! Another psychic! ‘And watch you language, brat!’ ‘Forwy!’ Tox managed to utter through lips tingling with pins and needles. ‘Right!’ the woman continued in a haughty tone. ‘First of all, what exactly are you?’ ‘Vell, I came here by miftake anf I only…’ ‘Not the whole book - single word answers, you fool!’ ‘Now, again, what are you?’ ‘English, sort of…’ 273

TOX Tox hesitated. ‘Inglishorta? Never heard if it! So does this explain your stupidity?’ ‘I’m not stu…..’ The woman cut Tox off again. ‘You must be to dare to defile Perfect World. I suppose you will now try to plead ignorance?’ ‘Well, I …’ ‘Honestly! What do you take me for?’ I don’t know! Who are you? Tox thought, forgetting in his anger that the woman could read his thoughts. My you are a bold child! I am Aranea custodian of Perfect World, the woman thought back at Tox, while the reflection in her dress shimmered and changed to display an image of the rocky landscape Tox had seen below. ‘Perfect World? What that place down there? It didn’t look exactly perfect to me!’ Tox said, his courage increased by his sense of frustration and the feeling that he had little left to lose. Aranea moved a step further away from Tox. He could now glimpse her face out of the corner of his left eye. It looked very dark, sharply pointed at the bottom and she was wearing the biggest pair of shades Tox had ever seen. So, let us see, Aranea thought at him, infusing sarcasm into her haughty tone. What do you call perfect then, a world full of bullying, thieving, trickery, greed, wars, perhaps?’ As Aranea’s thoughts entered his mind Tox saw his reflected image in the bottom of her dress shimmer again and be replaced by scenes from his past and images he had seen on TV – images ranging from SisR’s sneering ugly face to CNN footage of a war zone.

274

Perfect World ‘But for all I could see, there was nothing there - hardly perfect,’ Tox protested. Nothing! Aranea was indignant. You stupid child! It has everything – colour – just look at those glorious geological structures! Again the bottom of Aranea’s dress changed to show a panorama of wonderfully colourful rock formations. And it’s got seas, rivers, lakes, volcanoes, clouds of all shapes and sizes, rain, snow, hot weather, arctic conditions, crystal clear stars at night, misty dawns, brilliant sunsets. Perfect! Aranea finished with a challenging note. Tox wasn’t daunted. ‘Yeah but no life!’ Tox said with a sneer. Life! Life! Life brings all imperfections! Aranea’s thoughts sounded shrill in Tox’s head like a headache. As she thought, Tox saw the images of bullying, thieving, trickery, greed and wars, flash up again on Aranea’s dress, before the bare rocky panorama of the world below, reappeared like a screen-saver. ‘Ok!’ Tox felt he had to concede some ground. Mum often said the world would be much better without Mankind. Mum - who ever that is - is right. ‘But that’s just people. What about birds and animals and plants, I don’t see any trees even?’ It’s not just people, it’s all life. Life fills the universe with despicable acts of avarice and violence. Let us take a world overrun with people. The scene on Aranea’s dress changed to a bustling city, with cars and buses, pedestrians milling across at traffic lights, skyscrapers, advertising boards, billowing smoke, etc. And remove them. 275

TOX The streets were suddenly deserted. All lights went out. The traffic was stopped and the vehicles empty. Litter tumbled along the middle of dusty streets. How long before their place is taken? The pavement was moving. The focus zoomed in. The pavements seemed shiny and the roads too. Then Tox saw what they were: cockroaches, billions of golden brown cockroaches. And how long before these are replaced? The cockroaches morphed into streams of rats twisting and tumbling over each other in their scramble for food. Rats were attacking and killing rats. The scene changed again, this time it was a coastal view with imposing cliffs and a cloudy sky filled with masses of swirling seabirds. Birds rob other birds for food. A big black-winged gull swooped down on a black and white puffin that was carrying four silver fish in its rainbow beak. The gull caught the puffin by the tail and swung it around in mid air, until the puffin dropped its cargo. Next Tox saw a falcon crash down onto a dove’s back with its sharp yellow talons. Would you have a world of fish? Aranea thought sarcastically. A Great White Shark opened its gaping jaws and sank its rows of razor sharp teeth into the side of a Marlin, flushing the surrounding water to a red cloud. Then the image changed to millions of tiny creatures twirling about in all directions, some attacking their neighbours, until the dark constantly gaping mouth of a black and white Manta Ray vacuumed up everything in sight before it flapped away on its voyage of constant feeding. This is turning into that David Attenborough Mum watches. Tox thought. Aranea ignored it. Your perfect living animals even murder their own kind. Tox saw an old lion being attacked and killed by two younger lions on a dusty sun-dried plain. 276

Perfect World How small should I go? Bacteria killed by a fungus? Fungi killed by a virus? Tox was already convinced but Aranea continued. Plants did you say? A weed will choke a flower. Trees stretch out their canopies to steal the light in the forest, while pale saplings shrivel and perish in their shade on the forest floor. So what part of life exactly do you consider contributes anything to perfection? Well? Well? I thought so! That is why I and the Arachnidian Guard preserve the sanctity of Perfect World from the disgusting pollution of life such as you. OK! OK! Please! Enough already! Tox’s thoughts screamed, the pain from the mental deluge, having caused him to forget Aranea would hear. You are a cheeky child! Aranea replied with disgust. So what about you and your creepy spiders? Tox thought involuntarily as he realised that he should not. We are the overseers. We are here, not there. Even we do not enter Perfect World, Aranea replied haughtily, then swung around so fast to walk away, that some of the mirror spiders forming her dress, lost the shape of it. As she turned Tox realised that what he had thought were a large pair of shades, were in fact Aranea’s multi-faceted eyes. ‘Wait! Where are you going?’ Tox shouted as she strode away leaving him paralysed with his head resting uncomfortably on the hard uneven black rock of the floor. ‘Wait! I need to get free. I need to find Rah and to warn the Omnilithians hundreds - thousands will die!’ Tox pleaded. Aranea did not turn or hesitate. None of that is any concern of mine, she transmitted. And you should concern yourself primarily with your own fate. I have yet to decide your punishment, for you previous transgression. I promise you this, that when I am finished with you, you will never do it again. ‘No! Wait! Please!’ But Aranea merged into the darkness like a wisp of steam into a night sky. 277

TOX

22 Grey end

Tox was shocked. How dare she leave me like this! I’m just a kid! It’s dangerous here. From where he lay he could see the daylight shinning up through the hole just over a foot away from his head. He couldn’t tell how much space there was behind him but it didn’t really matter just then. His thoughts returned to others. I have to do something to warn Locket, Shapes and all. But what? I can’t do nothin’ like this. Maybe Rah got away and… But then he remembered the image of Rah in full flight and the speed of the pursuing Amibs on their beach balls. No! It’s down to me. I gotta find a way of doin’ somethin’. I gotta warn ‘em. But how – how do I get out of this? Tox was bound up so tightly and completely that he couldn’t even feel himself straining to test his binds. Out of the corner of his eye he looked at the hard cold rock on which he rested. It was black, and looked to be the same black marble the Omnilithians used for imaging.

278

Grey end Its unshaped but it looks the same. Maybe I can use this! Send a message a mental picture of what I’ve seen. Maybe Shapes or someone else’ll pick it up and warn the others. Tox remembered the sight of the tri-coloured cliffs. After all, the rocks are all joined up. However his gut felling was that he wouldn’t be able to make it work. But what else can I do? I gotta try. He took in a deep breath and held it to help his concentration. He pictured what he had seen. At first it all started as an excited jumble but after a moment he settled down. He pictured the legions of Amfibs and their equipment, their speed and agility on the beach balls as they had chased Rah and him. He pictured the long lake filling up behind the mound of boulders. Then he pictured what he thought would happen once the dam was removed. Tox was horrified by what he saw in his own imagination – Omnilith completely flooded, its marble structures breaking up and its citizens drowning or being slaughtered by wave after wave of Amfibs swimming easily in their natural element. When he had finished Tox lay there waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. How will I know if I got through? Will I get a message back? Maybe I should have asked for one, like a receipt or something - but how do you do that in picture thoughts? Should I try again? Maybe I gotta to reach out more – be more tuned-in – like in Shapes’ chair – reach out through the stone itself and find someone – make sure the message gets through. Maybe I can get them to come and help me, even. Ain’t got nothing better to do. Ain’t going no where like this. Tox decided to concentrate on placing the thought pictures into the stone itself. He concentrated on where he could feel the chill of the cold rock, through the hair on the left side of his head. After a few moments of doing 279

TOX this, he could feel the coldness of the rock beginning to spread inside his head. No! - Should be the other way ‘round. He concentrated harder. He imagined the warm part of the inside of his head expanding into the cold. It began to work. After a bit his head felt warm right out to his hair. He tried harder. He had to get his thoughts into the rock itself. He held his breath. It was like trying to blow up a new balloon. He let out his breath and grabbed in another one to hold. He was nearly at the end of that one when something happened. He felt the stone getting warm. Then he felt himself expanding into it like warm water seeping into a kitchen towel. It felt weird and frightening and he had a strong urge to stop. No gotta keep going - I’ve gotta get through - for Loket, Shapes, Rah – for me even! He forced himself to continue. Soon he could feel the rock all around him. He kept expanding further and further out. Now he felt part of the structure of the cave itself. It was getting easier. He poured through the walls, then into the stalactites, gushing down to the wet tip of each one. Then he realised he could see straight down into Aranea’s “Perfect World,” again with its multicoloured bare rock formations thousands of feet below. He instinctively felt he should hold on to something to stop himself from falling but his hands were not there. He looked over to his left. There, in the half-light lay his motionless body, on a narrow ledge about a foot in from the edge of the steep drop to Perfect World. His body looked so small and alone, frozen in its isolation. But Tox no longer felt alone. There was someone else with him, all around him. It was the rock itself. It welcomed him. It reached out to him but not just to him. It reached out in all directions and allowed Tox to reach out with it. Tox could feel the rock’s affinity with the lichens, mosses and fungi lingering in thousands of dark damp patches all over its multifaceted surfaces. He touched the roots of ancient ferns hanging in shade and the parched bushes in the naked sunlight on the surface. Tox shared the strange 280

Grey end awkwardness of the new lake and felt the deep sense of separation and lose, the black rock felt for the recently severed boulders that the Amfibs had used to form the dam. Under the bright blue sky the wind whispered haughtily to the rock – and now to Tox - of hotter and much colder places it had blown, of blossom-fragranced groves but also of stench-filled villages, towns and cities. At the foot of the cliffs the sea gossiped of changing times, of times past when it proudly fed countless shoals of varied species of fish, how it had supported busy shipping lanes then embraced and rusted the sunken hulls in coral, to shelter shrimps and octopi. As their scaly bellies rested on the hot rock, lizards bemoaned their conflicting needs of shade and sunlight. No longer wanting food, single minded crickets sang of one desire. Tox felt the rumbling of the Amfibs as they moved about in their preparations. The Amfibs’ water pipes vibrated gently where they lay on the rock surface, like hair strands tickling a cheek. This reminded Tox that, fascinating though all this was, he was doing it for a purpose. Gotta get focused. Gotta find the way to reach out to Omnilith. He steered his concentration in the direction of Omnilith, seeping through the rock like water in an enormous black sponge. He even gathered speed as he spread himself down the steep sides of the ravine that had brought Rah and him to the dam. This is awesome! Wait till I tell… His exuberant thought was suddenly interrupted. For, as he neared the opening into the quarry where the refugees from Omnilith had gathered, he felt resistance. Huh? What’s happening? His progress was slowed more and more. He had reached the interface with the grey rock and the grey rock was not the same. It interlaced with the black rock that Tox now felt at one with. The two rock forms conversed but it was like they spoke in different languages. They seemed to talk at each other in

281

TOX many voices all at the same time but could not understand each other, nor seemed particularly interested in doing so. Tox tried to barge his way through but it was like there was an invisible barrier. It was like trying to turn round and go backwards in time. He began to get frustrated. Chef! It was all goin’ so well – but I gotta get through. Thousands of lives might depend on me. Tox pushed and pushed but nothing happened. I’ve – got – to – get - through! He gathered all the strength of his will and concentration together at the interface, withdrawing from all the interesting places his new status had opened up for him to experience throughout the black rock. Then with every ounce of strength he could muster, he pushed at the membrane between him and the grey rock. It seemed to be working. Tox felt some movement. One – final - push! Then whoosh! He was being propelled rapidly upwards, faster than a rocket. He shot up out of the rock, through the spindly sun-bleached bushes on the surface and high into the air above. Tox looked down in terror. He could see all of the tri-shaded rocks far below. There was a fierce battle taking place on the plain, to the front of the white point of Omnilith itself. He could see the vast ocean stretching to the horizon, the mountains neatly ranged in sizes, the griddragon marches, the extensive green of the marshes, the city of Wysiwii cradled in the arm of the mountain ridge, the grey lake beyond and way in the distance, other small towns and villages, some surrounded by forests, others by cultivated fields of brown, green and yellow. It was all spread out like a huge map below him as he continued to ascend rapidly. At a point where Tox could clearly see the curves of the world in all directions and was beginning to worry about being unable to breathe in outer space, his ascent slowed and then halted. Now, even more to his horror, he began to fall and as he looked, the scene below changed. A lattice of roads, 282

Grey end busy with traffic, wound their ways through the mountains and across the marshes, joining Omnilith to Wysiwii and many other places besides. The trishaded rocks of Omnilith were spread out much more extensively than how he had observed them only moments before. Wysiwii did not have the huge Shaping Centre dominating its buildings. Instead there were lots of smaller factories and warehouses. There were quays with lots of dark cranes hauling cargo on and off big trading vessels. Other ships were coming and going across the sea. The sea itself was dotted with numerous silvery shoals of fish, twisting to evade the attention of schools of Amfibs hunting like dolphins. Then as Tox’s descent accelerated, the scene changes sped up. Omnilith’s rocks were rapidly quarried, shrinking smaller and smaller while more and more, bigger and bigger fishing boats came out from its port and scooped up the vast shoals of fish. The grey multi-pointed star shape of the Shaping Centre appeared in Wysiwii and the ships vanished from its port, followed by the quays themselves. The lattice of roadways joining the towns and cities was grown over by the spreading green quilt of the marsh grasses. In panic Tox looked down to where his feet should be. They were not there but where they should have been, Tox saw the black and grey rocks beneath growing rapidly nearer. His mind did a quick calculation of when impact would occur and at that point Tox shut where he believed his eyes should be and cringed. Suddenly silence. After a few moments Tox dared to open his eyes – total greyness. There were no shapes, no lines, no corridors, no spaces, just greyness. ‘Ugh!’ Tox heard a groan behind him. He spun round. There was a body lying about ten feet away in mid-grey. ‘It’s Rah!’ But before Tox could move he spotted another figure standing over Rah. With a shudder Tox recognised Grayend. 283

TOX ‘What are you doing?’ Grayend who had been facing away from Tox turned to face him, smiling his annoyingly calm, patronising smile, as he recognised Tox. ‘He is hurt badly. I can take away his pain.’ ‘Yeah! I know what your taking away pain is like,’ Tox said, his anger subduing his fear. Grayend broadened his smile. ‘Do you? What do you know? What do you really know? Perhaps you are only dreaming this? Is Rah really lying here hurt or is he only a Tox thought? Or are you lying hurt in Rah’s dream?’ As Grayend said this, an image appeared like a hologram, between him and Tox. It was dark and hard to see what it was. ‘What’s that?’ Tox asked sarcastically. Grayend didn’t reply, so Tox looked harder. In the darkness he saw a circle. Then the image seemed to focus in. In the darkness of the circle there was something slumped. Tox didn’t want to look. He walked round the hologram and bending down, touched Rah’s shoulder while turning towards Grayend. ‘See? He is real, not just a thought!’ ‘But are thoughts not real?’ ‘Thoughts come into your head and then fade in an instant and are gone.’ ‘But are they gone? How can you be so sure?’ ‘Aw! You’re doin’ my head in again. Look they’re in my head when I think them and then they’re not there – gone! Disappeared!’ ‘So, let us say a hen conceives an egg….’ Grayend began. Here we go again! Tox decided just to nod as it was giving him time to think what to do while Grayend was pre-occupied. 284

Grey end ‘…the egg is inside her. Then she lays it. It rolls out of her little cage onto the farmer’s conveyor belt and is carried away on its journey to the supermarket. The hen no longer thinks the egg exists but if it is put in front of you for breakfast, is it real?’ Tox imagined the egg in his egg-cup with its top taken off and aromatic steam wafting from the exposed yolk. Aw! Now I’m hungry again! He nodded wistfully. ‘So, what happened to my thought about the egg? After it left my head did it appear in yours? Just because you have stopped thinking a thought does not mean it doesn’t exist.’ Grayend’s smile broadened with self-satisfaction. Tox had had enough. ‘You’re trying to do my head in again. Everything here is doing my head in.’ Grayend gave a slow polite nod and turned away, then bent down as if to touch Rah. ‘No! No! Stop! What are you doing? Stop!’ ‘I’m merely doing my duty - what your Tuss friend here asked me to do.’ ‘When?’ Tox asked his tone full of angry doubt. ‘Just before you arrived. If I may say, I believe there is a conflicting realities problem here and none of us can leave until it has been resolved.’ Grayend’s voice was as annoyingly calm and even as ever. ‘I was simply going to do so.’ He turned back to continue. ‘No!’ Tox commanded. ‘Look, your friend here wants to go to your world.’ Grayend waved his hand towards the hologram. It changed to show Rah hanging with a posse of kids. This image of Rah clearly knew all the cool 285

TOX facial and hand gestures – touching knuckles, high fives – and the shapes to throw with his shoulders - everything. He looked like he really belonged. His pointy face looked so happy. ‘So?’ Tox said shrugging his shoulders. ‘Let him! What’s the problem?’ ‘You are!’ Grayend smiled patronisingly again. ‘You and the Tuss are linked somehow. If he goes you go.’ ‘And the problem is?’ Grayend waved towards the hologram again. It changed. T-K-Q was there, in bed, talking to a couple of helmets. Then it changed again. A group of boys were huddled near the mouth of a dark drainage pipe. ‘Who are they?’ The picture moved in on a face that was instantly familiar. Tox instinctively pulled back. It was SisR but now he looked scared. They all did. The image changed again. It was Mum’s friend Carole walking into the front room with two mugs of coffee in her hand. She handed one to Mum. ‘Mum!’ Tox looked at Grayend. ‘So what’s the problem? We can both go to my world.’ ‘You,’ Grayend said gently, pointing back towards the hologram. It had changed again, back to the darkness with something slumped in a circle. Tox felt his stomach churn. He didn’t want to look, as the picture got closer and clearer. ‘It’s me isn’t it?’ Tox asked hesitatingly. Grayend nodded smiling gently. ‘Am I dead?’ ‘No.’ ‘So, if I go back that’s where I’ll be?’ Tox’s voice was full of despair. Grayend just tweaked his smile momentarily. 286

Grey end ‘So this is it then?’ Tox sighed. Grayend shrugged as he gestured towards the hologram again. Now there was a big crowd of people all cheering and waving banners. From their clothing and hairiness Tox knew they must be Omnilithians. He recognised the white marble street that he and Rah had traipsed along with the sorry stream of refugees. But now the balconies on each side were festooned with bunting and flags. The view moved to a platform full of smiling faces. They must have been saved. Then Tox saw himself. He was on the platform stood beside Edlokeep, Shapes and other men in suits. The scene changed again. It was the tall cylindrical entrance hall that had been his first experience of the interior of Omnilith. The focus moved in on a statue of grey marble in a large alcove in the bright white wall. It was a statue of Tox. He looked so dignified. He was staring thoughtfully into the distance. ‘What’s all this?’ ‘Perhaps it means your efforts to warn them were successful. You could go back there and be worshipped as a hero, be admired and loved for the rest of your life.’ It had instant appeal. Hey! This sounds good. Better than dying in a mingin pipe, maybe never to be found. But what about Mum? Hmm! Either way I won’t see Mum again and Mum won’t see me neither. His whole being was flooded with unbearable sorrow. Tears welled in his eyes. ‘This is so unfair. I’m only ten. Why do I have to make such a choice? What’ve I done wrong to deserve this? Why am I being punished like this? I ain’t done nothing wrong!’ Tox yelled. ‘Well nothin’ too wrong, anyway.’ ‘Interesting concept, I had not considered that before.’ Grayend replied calmly. 287

TOX ‘So you are suggesting that bad things only happen to those that deserve punishment? Hmm! Interesting. So according to your theory, the righteous should be identifiable by say, their opulent life styles and the evil by poverty and deprivation and squalid conditions?’ Grayend seemed to be genuinely interested in considering the implications of what Tox had said during his emotional outburst. ‘Hmm! I will ponder this some more later.’ Tox hadn’t been paying attention. He had been looking at his statue in the hologram of the entrance hall. It’s gotta be better hasn’t it? I mean, I know I won’t see Mum but I won’t either way, will I? And me and Rah can… ‘Oi! Where’s Rah in all this?’ Tox asked suspiciously. Instantly the picture refocused. Tox saw a statue of Rah. He was depicted not as the modern active kid he had chosen on Shapes’ imager but in the formal stance and clothing of the last of the line of Tuss, that he had so clearly rejected back then. ‘But where is he then? I didn’t see him on the podium.’ ‘In this Realland the Tuss line is ended,’ Grayend said calmly. ‘Rah knows this. The Tuss were always the epitome of imagination, ingenuity and indeed wit, in Realland but now finally their time has passed. They travelled from culture to culture, nation to nation, civilisation to civilisation, getting ideas and artefacts to trade. They invented new uses for the things they found and were the only conduit for trade between the naturally reserved peoples of Realland. They were respected and wealthy because of this, even if they were regarded with fear and suspicion by many.’ ‘But what happened to them?’ ‘The Wysiwiians were the first. Servicing your kind brought total selfsufficiency. They stopped trading. Indeed they stopped making anything to trade. Once a steady stream of Tuss ships visited the port of Wysiwii, trading 288

Grey end ores from the kingdom of Metal, grains from Grassland, timber from Arbour, monuments and tomb stones from Omnilith, fish from Amphibia and much, much more - but no more.’ Grayend shock his head gently and smiled sadly. ‘Now, in Realland, no one trades and the Tusses have become redundant, to the point of extinction. Ironically it was Rah's ancestors, who seeing the needs of the Falsesiders, devised the mechanisms that bring your people here and allow the Wysiwiians to provide their services. But even Tuss’ technology will eventually fail. And what happens then? The Wysiwiians will be unlikely to be able to maintain it. They do not understand how it works.’ Tox felt a dark sadness come over him with the thought that Realland was well on the way to self-destruction. ‘But surely someone can make them see, get them trading, swapping ideas?’ ‘Are you applying for the vacant position?’ Grayend asked with a slight lift of his grey eyebrows. ‘No! I mean…’ ‘Rah knew that it is not just his line that is extinguishing in Realland. That is why he wants to make a new start in Falseside - to belong - to try out new ideas.’ Tox looked down at Rah still lying there unconscious. Rah looked peaceful but also weak and vulnerable. I’ve kind of grown to like him, even though he brought me trouble and lost me my mopho. All that seemed so insignificant now. He turned back to Grayend. ‘Why can’t Rah live in Fals….. in my world and I stay in Realland?’ ‘I’m not sure why. I don’t make the rules but you can’t. The three of us are stuck here until both of you go one side or the other.’ ‘But why is it my decision?’ 289

TOX ‘It isn’t. The Tuss has already given me his instructions. I am obliged to act upon the last instructions I receive. I was about to conclude matters as per his wishes when you arrived. Your previous request, do you remember when we first met at Dr Girl’s laboratory?’ Tox nodded solemnly as Grayend continued. ‘It has been superseded. Rah said his decision was easy, once he understood that your destinies were entwined. He said you consistently told him how much you wanted to leave Realland and return to the Falseside. So, in his mind, there could only be one decision - for the sake of his new “best bro.” He had always intended to use you to piggyback to your world, “the world of opportunities” he called it. But then he realised what would happen.’ The hologram changed again, back to showing the figure slumped in the dark pipe. ‘The Tuss has chosen his Realland destiny, so that you can have a life there.’ The hologram changed back to Tox on the platform before the celebrating crowds. Tox felt a volcano of emotions well up inside him at the realisation of what Rah was willing to do for him despite how he had treated him. Tox stood staring down at Rah. ‘So,’ Grayend’s gentle voice broke the silence, as he turned again towards Rah. ‘Now it is time.’ ‘No! Wait!’ Tox ordered his voice full of panic. Grayend halted briefly but did not turn around. ‘It is time.’ ‘No! I’ll go!’ Tox said gaining control. ‘I’ll go back. Leave him alone.’ Grayend nodded as he straightened up. ‘So be it.’ Now Tox was frightened again. 290

Grey end What have I done? He expected Grayend to come towards him but he did not. Instead the hologram began to slowly expand. It still showed the dark circle of the pipe. It grew bigger and bigger filling out the grey void, which surrounded the three of them. Maybe Rah will wake up and demand the reverse of this. ‘Will it hurt?’ Tox blurted out wishing he could change his mind. ‘I take away pain,’ Grayend said soothingly. ‘But there may be a brief moment on rejoin. But I will make it as short as I can. I promise.’ Tox remembered the pain he had felt on their previous meetings and was terrified. His hands tightened into fists by his sides. His teeth clenched and his chin rose ahead of the expanding vision. Soon it was all around him. He could smell the putrid water on the stale damp air. He seemed to be floating in front of the dark opening of the pipe. Through the bottom of his eyes he could just make out the outline of himself lying in the dark circular opening. Like a pale grey ghost, Grayend now appeared to be floating between him and the dark pipe. Tox flinched as Grayend raised his grey gloved hand towards him. Tox wanted to turn and run but he couldn’t. He was frozen. He felt himself being sucked like smoke towards Grayend’s pointing fingers. ‘No!’ he yelled as the glove finally touched his forehead. Tox was instantly sucked like a tissue into a vacuum cleaner, back into his slumped body. The pain flooded back, his head his arms, his leg, his side and other places he did not know the name of. But before he had time to scream his agony, it was gone. Grayend had kept his promise.

291

TOX

23 Angel

Without knowing quite why, Tox had expected to experience nothing more but he did. He was back in total darkness but there was that mingin smell. Then almost like a fading thought-splash he heard Grayend’s deep even voice. ‘I am told you are meant to go towards the light.’ I can’t move! Tox could not feel any part of himself and didn’t want to. Anyway, there is no light! There was only the sound of trickling water. Grayend, Rah and everything else of Realland was gone. Tox was totally alone. I feel weak after all I’ve been through – but did I? Did it really happen? Did it really? Or was it just in my head? Did I imagine it all - right from first meeting Rah? How can I tell? I know - my mopho! If I’ve still got it then it didn’t happen. But Tox could not feel his hand to try and find his pocket. I’ll have to let it lie for now. Huh! I can’t even tell if my eyes are open or not. He listened to the gurgling of the water passing below him in the darkness. It sounded like recorded laughter speeded up. The short echoes from the surrounding concrete made the sound sparkle. 292

Angel It’s almost like music. The sounds began to write green lines and squiggles in Tox’s fading mind. It seemed rather soothing. Occasionally, the patterns made by the sound of the running water were crossed by a drip, that splashed blue in Tox’s mind. Sometimes the blue drips exploded in quick succession while other times there seemed to be an age between drops. Just when Tox had decided there were not going to be anymore, three or four would follow in quick succession. Then Tox heard a dull rhythmic beat. It added a regular pulsating crimson undertone to the pattern in his mind. Must be my heartbeat. I must still be alive, he thought without taking any comfort from this fact. With nothing else to do, Tox lay there listlessly listening and watching the patterns the sounds were painting in his mind’s eye. Soon there was a new sound like a breeze rising and falling that added a pattern of red waves. Maybe my breathing. Tox thought lazily, as he was finding it increasingly impossible to muster the energy needed to even think. Now there were other sounds joining in making the patterns ever more complicated. The colours they made danced around him, going one way and then the other, moving up and down like a crazy carousel. Tox felt dizzy. The colours became more intense and brighter. It sounded more and more like music, strange instruments, possibly even voices, repeating short phrases over and over. The dancing patterns began to rise up around Tox like a cylindrical wall. They were like glowing pulsating diamond shapes. Higher and higher they rose until they seemed like they were joined overhead in a high dome. Where the distance brought the patterns together the concentration made the colours intensely bright, yellows and golds that merged to a pure white light at the centre. I am told you are meant to go towards the light. Tox remembered Grayend’s final words of advice. How? 293

TOX There was a high-pitched metallic sound like trumpets playing wild music in a style Tox had never heard before. The pounding rhythm got louder and louder and was vibrating through his being. Suddenly the white light was very bright and washed down over him. The beauty of it all overwhelmed Tox. The gold and white diamonds near the centre of the dome vibrated like white hot steel straight from a furnace. Tox now saw that these were wings, like huge gold tinged half-folded swan’s wings. The chorus of weird musical instruments and voices was so loud it was all embracing. Go towards the light. - How? As if in reply, a pair of wings broke free from the pattern overhead and spiralled gently down towards Tox, like a giant shinning sycamore seed made of sunlight. As it neared him Tox saw the face of a man. The face had a bright light shinning through its forehead. He beamed a broad smile at Tox. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got you,’ he said in a voice barely distinguishable from the wonderful symphony blazing all around them. ‘I’m going to take you up.’ Aw Mum! Tox found the strength to think, you were wrong about angels too. The angel said something Tox could not understand, then they were moving upwards, pirouetting slowly as they ascended. Tox felt elated. He no longer felt any fear. He felt a warm glow through his entire being. After they had ascended for some moments the rhythms got louder and clearer. To Tox’s surprise the repeating instruments not only got clearer but also harsher, sharper and less pleasant to his ears. Soon the squeaking was hurting his ears like un-oiled machinery. The singing chorus was replaced by spoken voices too, shouting excitedly. The light was blinding him, hurting his eyes. Then there was a very familiar voice full of worry and concern. ‘Terence! Terence! Oh please! Oh God!’ It was Mum and she was praying, when she had so often said she didn’t believe in anything. 294

Angel What’s Mum doing here? Tox thought weakly. ‘Oh God! Please let him be alright. I’ll do anything, please God!’ Mum was crying. ‘Will he be alright? Please, oh please!’

295

TOX

24 A dude from school

Tox could hear a voice. It was a familiar voice, soft, happy tones with which he felt comfortable. It wafted a sense of security and safety through his entire being. It was a voice he liked - no - more than liked - loved even. It was like sunshine. I could lie here forever and just bask in it. He tried to remember where he had heard it before but memories were like a swirling fog that he couldn’t get hold of. Who is it? He tried harder, furrowing up an imagined brow. A face began to form in the fog, mouthing the words he could hear. It was a very familiar face but it was talking to someone else. He had a noise he associated with this face. MMMMMM!. He felt this was close but not right. He tried to picture the sound in his mind’s eye. This was even harder to do and the strain hurt him. Then he heard a voice from behind him. ‘You can’t picture a sound Dumbo.’ This voice too sounded very familiar. Now he had another feeling. He felt he owned something. Something was his, his and nobody else’s. It’s this second voice. It’s mine! It’s my voice! But what about the first voice? 296

A dude from school He tried again. MMMMMMMMM! No good - wouldn’t connect. He tried harder still. MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM! Then the second voice - his own voice - interrupted his efforts again. ‘It’s Mum, Dumbo!’ Then the image of a gentle expressive face, the voice he could hear speaking to someone else and the sound he associated with its tone and nuances, all came together in a satisfying swirl and exploded over his being like a fire-work. It’s Mum. Tox tried to open his eyes but they refused to obey. He felt tired, exhausted in fact. He would have to leave it for now. Try later maybe.

Tox was too tired to take any meaning from the words Mum was saying. He somehow remembered that failing to do so could be dangerous. He had a feeling he had done this before and there had been trouble. But Mum’s tone now had no anger in it, quite the opposite. I ain’t heard her so happy since… since… ever! Some of Mum’s words started to get through, perhaps because they were so unusual coming from Mum. “God!…” “Thank God!…” “Thank God….” “Thank goodness.” Is this really Mum? Is she praying? Has she found religion or something, while I’ve been away? Have I been away? Tox couldn’t remember. He drifted off again.

297

TOX Mum’s voice was there again, the same warm comforting tones of hugging security that he could almost smell. But confusingly he could still make out words that were so un-Mum. “Thank God ……” “Thank Heavens…” What’s happened to Mum? Will she start making me go to church like Jaap’s Mum makes him do every Sunday? “Thank God for the police…” “If the police hadn’t got that kid from St Wilson’s to talk…” “I don’t know…” “God knows, I mean….” Now Mum’s voice sounded distressed, tearful. ‘I mean the police knew Terence was in there somewhere. But there are miles and miles of them old underground sewer tunnels. The News said it might take days and Terence could have died of exposure. But thank God the police got that boy to talk and take them to the ruin of the old distillery where the little brats had chased Terence the day before. Thank God and…, I never thought I’d hear myself say this but thank God for the police. That’s all I can say. Is he going to be all right, Sister?’ Sister? Who’s Sister? I don’t have a sister? Another voice answered Mum, a woman’s voice, polite, calm and unfamiliar. ‘Dr Boateng said he thinks so. Your Terence is a strong little boy. He has been through a lot but Dr Boateng believes he will pull through.’ Tox detected caution in the tone. He tried his eyes again but the effort made him feel queasy and that he was going to faint, so he did.

The download sounded sweet but strange. Tox liked it but wasn’t sure he had ever actually heard it before. It projected dancing shapes in his mind’s eye. There was a vocal but in the background behind the beat and main bass-synth riff, and not the proper rhythm and rhymes of rap - more just people talking.

298

A dude from school As he strolled aimlessly Tox saw the posse of mean looking kids hangin’ in his path. He considered crossing the street as a precaution but there was no street. As he got closer, the posse stopped their interactions and looked directly at him. One of them was different. He must be their leader. The leader was wearing a furry hoody. It’s Rah. It was Rah but he wasn’t smiling. He stepped out of the posse and strode up to Tox. The others, all stony-faced, fell in behind him. No one said anything. Tox tried to greet his friend but no words came out. Rah opened his thin mouth as if speaking but Tox heard no words. Still without smiling, Rah raised his right hand and, with his spindly index finger, poked Tox in the chest. Tox looked quizzically at him but no explanation came. Without losing eye contact Rah moved his hand to the right and poked Tox again. The touch of his finger felt cold on Tox’s bare chest. Rah repeated the action this time a couple of inches further down. Tox was getting annoyed. ‘Oi, cut that out Rah!’ he yelled and opened his eyes. A dark-haired woman with a smooth mocha coloured face was leaning over him. A yellow blouse peeped above the lapels of her white coat. Her ears were streaming silver. It was a stethoscope. ‘Ooh, bossy!’ the doctor said with a teasing smile. ‘Not you, Rah,’ Tox tried to explain. ‘Nice to have you back. So who’s this Rah then, that you don’t want to touch you?’ ‘Rah Tuss,’ Tox replied finding it more than an effort. The doctor seemed amused. ‘Hmm! A Latin scholar and still so young,’ she said with mock surprise. ‘And wise to be concerned about catching Weil’s disease. Well young man, I think

299

TOX you are beginning to show signs of recovery. And there’s someone here who will be absolutely delighted to hear that you are back in the land of the living.’ The doctor turned away to her left. Tox tried to turn his head but couldn’t. There was instant pain in his neck and there was something around it that restricted movement. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the rough white ridge of a bandage on his head. ‘Mrs. O’Shea.’ Tox heard the doctor say gently from outside of his field of vision. ‘Siobhan! He’s awake.’ Moments later Tox almost melted with relief and joy as Mum’s face appeared, full of concern. ‘Terence!’ was all she could manage to say. ‘MMMMMM!’ he replied full of a desire to be cuddled closely. ‘Oh Terence! Thank God!’ ‘GGGGaud? Mmmmmum, GGGauod?’ Tox tried to ask. Mum looked puzzled and turned to look at the doctor for instructions. ‘He may be quite incoherent at times, for a while,’ the doctor advised with a comforting tone. Mum nodded acceptance. ‘Talk to him. Keep him talking,’ the doctor prescribed. Mum gulped and turned back to Tox. ‘Oh! I’m so proud of you. You’ve done so well. You’re so clever.’ Now Tox was puzzled. He had had a vague feeling that he should expect a ear-bashing, although he couldn’t quite think why. ‘You’re so clever,’ Mum repeated. ‘How did you ever think of doing that with the phone? I’d never have thought of that. Even the police said it was dead smart, a stroke of genius. Putting it 300

A dude from school in that old ice-cream container so it floated to where there was a signal, so cleaver. How did you know to do it?’ ‘Wah,’ Tox said trying to get his numb lips to say ‘Rah.’ ‘It wa Wah.’ Mum forced a worried smile. It was difficult seeing the son she loved so much, in such poor condition, unable to talk coherently, head swathed in bandages, neck in an oversized surgical collar, one leg and both arms trussed up. To the irritation of Tox, Mum persisted in following the doctor’s orders. She banged on and on asking inane questions about anything and everything that Tox had no interest in whatsoever. After what seemed an age, she was interrupted by a call on her mopho, much to Tox’s relief. It was from her friend Carole. So, as Mum gushed her good news out to Carole, Tox took, the by then, well deserved opportunity to drift off to sleep.

Over the next couple of weeks Tox improved. Without really being aware of how many days or nights passed, he spent the hours drifting between sleep and consciousness. He often woke to find someone different at his bedside. Sometimes it would be hospital staff other times relatives. Once it was Jaap with both his parents. Jaap stood sheepishly as his mother banged on and on about him being so worried about his “best friend” Tox. And how brave her Jaap had been to volunteer to go to St Wilson’s to try and identify those boys. T-K-Q also came to visit with his mum. T-K-Q just kept apologising to Tox. ‘For what?’ Tox asked. ‘For everything. Sorry man, really sorry,’ T-K-Q kept saying.

301

TOX Tox found this increasingly embarrassing until he was really glad when T-KQ finally left. T-K-Q’s mum had kept asking questions. She was worse than the helmets. The helmets had wanted to see whether Tox wanted to press charges against SisR and his St Wilson’s Crew. Tox didn’t and the helmets explained to Mum that it was difficult to see what they could be charged with, especially as Jaap did not want to give evidence regarding the theft of his mopho.

One evening, Mum brought in a card that had arrived from Dad. As well as ordering Tox to ‘GET WELL SOON,’ it invited him to travel to Canada to recuperate in ‘THE WIDE OPEN SPACES.’ Although the idea appealed, Tox knew it was a non-starter. Mum would never go, especially as the invitation didn’t even mention her and, right now Tox knew how much Mum really meant to him. After what he had been through recently, being apart from Mum was not worth considering.

Two days before leaving hospital Tox had another visitor. Tox was sitting up in bed supported by pillows. He was listening to a download of ‘STAY OFF MY MOPHO MOFO’ when the door to his room opened so slowly, Tox thought he might be imagining it at first. Cautiously a kid’s head appeared in the gap, looked at Tox, and then scanned the room. On seeing they were alone, he stepped rapidly into the room and let the door shut behind him. He looked to be about the same age as Tox and was dressed in slightly scruffy, matching sky-blue tracksuit bottoms and hoody-sweatshirt. He had rosy cheeks and a slightly podgy physic. Tox took out his earphones. ‘Who are you? This room’s private.’ ‘Hi!’ the kid said with a sheepish smile and a nervous shrug. ‘They call me Pinki.’ Tox’s eyebrows furrowed. 302

A dude from school ‘What do you want?’ ‘Eh! …’ Pinki glanced nervously left and right out of the corners of his eyes, as if he still expected someone else to suddenly appear in the room. ‘Eh! SisR sent me.’ Tox sat upright unsupported by the pillows. ‘Naw! Naw! Nothing like that!’ Pinki said seeing Tox’s alarm. ‘SisR sends his respect. SisR says yo’ solid, Dude.’ Tox’s eyes widened in surprise at what his ears were hearing. ‘Huh?’ ‘Yeah Man! Yo’ cool.’ Pinki’s smile was more relaxed now. Tox however, was not. What’s this all about? ‘SisR respects your silence. We all do. SisR respects your class. He likes the way you work. Says he likes your thinkin’ Man.’ Tox only nodded. He was afraid if he said anything he would blow his new found image of cool. ‘SisR says he can do business with you. He says he can work with you.’ Pinki walked across the short distance from the door to the bedside. Tox instinctively flinched as Pinki poked his right hand out towards him. It held a small card. Tox took the card. It had a mopho number carefully written on it in blue ballpoint. Pinki looked directly into Tox’s eyes. ‘SisR says call him when you get out. Says he likes yo’ ideas, Man. He says we need an ideas man. Says yo’ and him will work, Man. You got good ideas but you need the right crew, to make ‘em happen, not them Mickey Mouse posses you been usin’. You need the SW Crew.’

303

TOX Tox curled his bottom lip up slightly and nodded gently to show he was considering what had been said. Pinki raised his left eyebrow like he’d seen in the movies. He was enjoying playing the envoy of the Godfather. ‘So, yo’ pho’ SisR soon, yeah?’ Tox nodded slightly, not wishing to commit but realising that the tone of Pinki’s question implied choice was not intended as an option. Pinki recognised that Tox did not seem fully convinced. SisR had given him fall back instructions should this turn out to be the case. ‘Oh! I almost forgot.’ Pinki leant to his left to fetch something out of his pocket. Without warning he grabbed hold of Tox’s hand, turned it over and placed a dark object onto the open palm, knocking the card that Tox had been holding, onto a fold in the bed sheet. ‘A little something from SisR - and all The Crew.’ Tox looked wide-eyed at the object. It was a PLUM mopho but not just any PLUM. It was a ‘SIGNATURE 6,’ the very latest model and it was the black edition. It had gold trim and the key scripts were supposed to be embossed in real gold and they looked it. When Tox next looked up Pinki was already heading for the door. Pinki put his hand on the door handle then turned back towards Tox. ‘So, no excuses, yo’ pho’. Yeah?’ Pinki put his hand between his mouth and ear, with the thumb and finger extended. ‘The number’s in there already. Right?’ With that, the door opened and Pinki had to step back to avoid being clattered. It was Mum. Pinki looked up at her and gulped. ‘Sorry,’ he said meekly.

304

A dude from school Before Mum had time to react Pinki had slipped past her and disappeared through the gap in the doorway faster than wet soap in a squeeze. Mum turned to look after him but the door swung shut. Tox took the opportunity to stuff the Signature 6 under the bedclothes. He had already struggled to come up with a spurious reason for having the second mopho that the police had found in the ice-cream container and didn’t want to start that again. ‘Who was that?’ Mum asked, her tone expressing her surprise and suspicion at the rapidity of Pinki’s exit. Tox spotted the card lying in a fold of the bedclothes and managed to snatch and hide it while Mum was still distracted. ‘Eh! Pinki.’ Pretending to try and get more comfortable Tox surreptitiously edged the SIGNATURE 6 further down under the bedclothes. ‘He’s just a dude from school,’ Tox lied non-challantly. Huh! Like a proper Falsesider.

305