FIREPOWER









BY ME






PART ONE




~~~ PROLOGUE ~~~


THE STORY SO FAR


IN THE BEGINNING THERE WAS NOTHING… THEN THERE WERE THREE THINGS.

These three things were very powerful beings, and they knew it. They looked into the infinite darkness surrounding them, and knew they should probably do something about it. They formed matter and energy, space and time. They came to call the rocks and stars they had made “Our Matters”. But the grey rocks floating around were still not enough. So each being set about making something INTERESTING happen.
The first of the three beings, whose name was Myrano, was the most powerful of the three. His strength was greater than the combined force of both of others. He set about making a force that could be used to create, destroy, and be known universally, once some more beings showed up. In time, Myrano invented fire, and with it light and heat, a limitless source of energy for the boring grey rocks. He identified himself with golden crown mounted with flames - and so Myrano became the God of Fire.
	The second of the three beings, whose name was Liaguo, was the most cunning of the three. His intellect was unmatched, and his opinions unchallenged. Jealous of Myrano’s invention, he began combining elements to make new substances, to shape and make the boring grey rocks more interesting. In time, Liaguo invented water, which became great oceans and clouds, and huge fields of ice. He identified himself with a deep blue medallion with a rippled texture - and so Liaguo became the God of Water.
	However the third of the three beings was not as eager to flash his vanity in the faces of the others. His name was Vityro, and he was the kindest of the three. He got into making a being like himself, a friend for himself. In time, Vityro had finished his very first being, with whom he was so pleased, he made thousands of other beings in his form, to thrive on the faces of the boring grey rocks. He became the grand master of his very own species and identified himself with a large imposing scythe, with an eerie green glow - and so Vityro became the God of Life.
	The Gods, as they were, all saw their own invention as the greatest. They would’ve destroyed themselves over the disagreement, had the wise Liaguo not have came up with a solution. Each God would exist as a superior to one of the others, and inferior to the other. The God of Water would be powerful over the God of Fire; the God of Life would be powerful over the God of Water; and the God of Fire would be powerful over the God of Life. None of them would dare make a move against another. And so they set themselves up in this inter-galactic game of rock-paper-scissors, and for a long time, the Gods and “lesser beings” lived in harmony. The Gods accepted the beings as guests, and the beings accepted the Gods as their leaders. The Gods were mostly pleased with the arrangement, especially Vityro, the God of Life.
	However, Myrano, the God of Fire, became greedy. He saw himself as a titan compared to the feeble lesser beings, and found entertainment in destroying them in their thousands. When Vityro complained, he turned on him, and the God of Water was forced to destroy him. Nothing but his burning crowd remained, which was mounted upon a statue to remain as a reminder of his existence, as if anybody could forget. And so the God of Fire was gone, and only two Gods remained. Only after Liaguo had interfered and put an abrupt halt to Myrano’s rampage did he realise that he was completely at Vityro’s mercy. But Vityro was a kind man, and let him be his right-hand man. So he remained humble and stayed under the God of Life’s command.
	This all took place around 11 billion years ago, according to most scientists and historians. Then nothing really interesting happened for a long, long time. Liaguo had become bored. He had served under Vityro for far too long, and being the wise man that he was, he organised a plan to take him down. He knew that Vityro was weak to fire, and that simply starting a fire in his room at night, which was located at the top of a VERY tall building, it would be enough to take care of him for good. And it very nearly worked, but he accidentally tripped over a box of CDs on the way on the ground floor of the building and then knocked over a lamp. He never liked CDs, or lamps. Alarms wailed and dozens of lesser beings arrived in the building. Liaguo was quite able to hold most of them off for around 10 minutes, until Vityro came downstairs in his dressing gown and blew his face off. And so the God of Water was gone, and Vityro was the only God who remained.
	This all took place around 5 years ago. Nobody knew what happened to the medallion that Liaguo always wore. Some people said that Vityro had destroyed it. Some said that one of the security staff had stolen it. But the fact remained that Vityro was now completely unopposed, and the most powerful being in the universe. Even though he had his billions of lesser beings to accompany him, he felt alone.
	However, this story is not about Vityro. This story is about a lesser being. Several lesser beings, in fact, from an obscure planet called Earth, which had only just even become aware of the thousands of other life-inhabited planets like itself. This is the story of their successes and failures, their lives and their deaths, and the horrific events they witnessed.
	Let’s begin.




~~~ CHAPTER ONE ~~~


RISE AND SHINE


ALAN NEWTON AWOKE TO FIND HIS MEMORY GONE AND A GUN POINTED INTO HIS FACE.

His eyes found it hard to focus and his mind was half asleep, but he recognised the blurred shape of the handgun pointed directly in the spot between his eyes. He immediately snapped awake. Think, he thought, being the apt thinker that he was. He knew that anyone who wanted to kill him could’ve done it while he was asleep, so why would he wait for him to awaken? Why would someone point a gun in his face? It occurred to him just then he couldn’t remember how he got where he was. He tried to recollect some memories. It was the year 2027, AD, a Thursday, and he was 11, a child by most measurements, and he knew he was ambidextrous, and he knew he was extremely smart for his age. People told him all the time how anyone could possibly be that intelligent. He often asked them back how anyone could possibly be that stupid. He tried to remember if he had any friends, but none came to mind.
Where had he been in the last day? He remembered that he had attended a Yeryerskah Initiative meeting. That rings a bell, said his own consciousness. YI, as everyone called it, was the exceptionally exclusive children’s genius society. He remembered there being 13 members, himself included, but who they were, he couldn’t remember.
It suddenly occurred to him that he still had a gun in his face. The man holding it seemed vaguely familiar, but it was obvious that someone had done a serious number on his memory. Whoever this man was, he wasn’t just going to executing him, so he was probably after information. Good luck with that, considering his memory had been cut off at the head.
‘What is your name?’ asked the man with the gun, slowly.
You see, said his consciousness, You can’t even answer a simple question like that. He told his mind to shut up so he could think. His eyes searched the room, looking for any kind of hint as to the answer to this somehow taxing question. He seemed to be in some kind of infirmary, with white beds, white walls and white cupboards. The people in the room provided the only splash of colour on the bland canvas.
Alan’s eyes focused on the inhabitants of the beds. There were 6 other people lying in beds just like him. The sullen face of unconscious boy in the bed to his left sparked a memory on his head. This was Frank Galvini, who he remembered from YI. The Initiative was worldwide organisation, and not all of the members were from the Anglo-Americano Empire like himself. Franky was born in Italy and was only half English, but Alan was firmly British and proud of it. He wondered what Franky was doing here with him. He had always considered Franky as a good acquaintance. Not a friend, though, Alan thought that friends were a one-way trip to disappointment. He knew that Franky had one very good friend though, despite being a very depressive person that reads the newspaper just to pick out the miserable headlines.
Sure enough, on the bed just to the left of Franky was Danny. While Franky was in YI because of his extraordinary poetic talents, Daniel Parsons’ reason for attending was a mystery to him. Rumour had it that Danny’s Dad was secretly a ninja, but nobody was about to believe that. All Alan knew was that Danny was the joker of the group, the one who could cheer everyone up, even if Franky had just read his selected headlines of the newspaper to everyone.
The man with the gun pushed the firearm into his forehead. ‘I asked you a question,’ he said, his voice free of emotion. Alan was desperate now. His eyes darted around the room, forcing himself to concentrate on recovering his lost memories. On the bed to his right lay Justine Jenner, the best basketball player he had ever seen, and on the bed opposite was one of her closest friends, Abby Pascal. None of the memories seemed to give him any clue as to his own name. This was just about the stupidest situation Alan had ever been in. He could just about make out the curly hair of the boy on the bed opposite to him. William Mach was a musical savant, who had first picked up about four instruments at once at the age of 2 and been hooked ever since. He was a remarkably charming person, as anyone he looked at seemed to fall under his spell. This spell seemed especially affective on girls. On the bed to Mach’s right he saw Michael Wren, who everyone knew as Mikki. He was a moderately dark-skinned American member, who was world class at Thugby, the traditional Anglo-Americano sport. Alan remembered that Mikki was fairly new to YI. He had been recruited about three years ago. Mikki was known in YI for his attitude and habit of nicknaming everyone. Mikki had come up with the name “Boltus” for him two years ago, due to his ability to solve extremely intense mathematical equations in a measure of milliseconds, and since then the name stuck. People called him Boltus instead of Alan quite a lot now at meeting.
Alan! He felt an imaginary light bulb appear above his head. Alan Newton, yes, he was fairly sure that was it.
‘My name,’ said Alan, measuring every word in his mouth before he said it in case he somehow upset the armed man, ‘is Alan Newton.’
The arm holding the gun immediately slackened and Alan allowed himself a deep breathe of air. His mind was flowing with memories now that the mnemonic of own his name had hit him, and he felt a lot more comfortable about his situation. His short-term memory still seemed to be locked off to him, but he could now remember everything earlier than a day ago. He thought about the day that YI had met the Pseudo Royal Family, and the time that they had been pursued by that gang with bowler hats and suits, and Mikki had jumped out of van backwards and incapacitated every single member. But the memory that kept jumping out of him was the day he joined YI…

~*~*~*~*~

The year was 2022 and little Alan was six years old and they already sold bobble heads with his little face on. From the day he was able to speak he asked his father what happened if you divided 0 by 0, and said he could think of five possible answers and he couldn’t think which answer was correct. Now he was joining one of the most esteemed clubs on the planet, the Yeryerskah Initiative. Nobody seemed to know what Yeryerskah meant, or why there should be an Initiative based around in, but in those days, people rarely asked questions like that. Everyone knew about YI, but it never occurred to him that he might have been a suitable member until he met a kid five years older than himself who told him he would be perfect for them. Alan greatly appreciated praise and wrote the letter of application himself as soon as he got home.
	Alan stepped into the meeting room. Seated were just five other children his age. At the head of the table was an imposing man wearing a top hat for some reason. Alan was confused about this. Everything had to have a logical explanation from his point of view, and there was no upside to wearing a top hat. He could only think that the hat was something to do with fashion, a concept that he never expected to understand.
	‘Ah, hello Mr. Newton. We have been awaiting your arrival,’ said the man at the head of the table, his thin mouth stretching into a wide smile. ‘Please, take a seat. My name is Matt Rhead. People, would you like to introduce yourselves?’
	Alan sat cautiously on the side of the table with two people. The other side had three people, so he had evened the table out. This was good, he told himself. Symmetry was a vital concept of life. Uneven things made him feel very nervous.
	‘Hi.’ Alan turned to face the boy he had just taken a seat next to. He looked about his age and had a round face with very child-like eyes.
	‘My name is Franky. They told us that there was a new kid arriving. What’s your talent?’
	Alan was instantly put off. His name obviously was not Franky. His name must’ve been Frank. Adding an unnecessary “y” was an unorthodox edition to his name. Alan did not approve. Nevertheless, he felt he should at least have the courtesy to field the foolish boy’s question.
	‘Hello. I was invited to this organisation due to the fact that my superiors deem my mathematic and scientific skills as outstanding. I would’ve said that their skills were merely far below the acceptable standard, but it was not my place to argue.’
	The eyes of the people on the table widened. The kids didn’t see it natural that a mere child their age should have such an extensive vocabulary. Alan leant back in his chair with a sense of success. Matt seemed to think that the child would make a good member of parliament.
	‘Well put, Alan’ said the man, seeing this condescending attitude as a good sign. ‘It’s good to see such an early maturity among young minds. Now, Franky, would you like to explain how you all got here?’
	Franky shifted in his seat, seeming much less eager to make communications after Alan had opened his mouth. But he knew better to disagree with Matt, so he explained.
	‘I’m here because I can do Literacy well,’ said the young boy. ‘I wrote a poem and they said that it was world class. Also, a boy said I’m very special. He came to my mental house and said that my burst is like magic.’
	Alan was following this well until the bit about magic and mental institutions. And what was a “burst”? Alan hoped that he might find out more by listening rather than asking, considering how less inclined the boy was to talk after he spoke.
	Franky continued. ‘This is my friend Justine’ he said, pointing to the girl next to him. ‘She’s really good at sports and stuff.’
	The slim girl with the ponytail named Justine looked up, looking somewhat surprised to be involved in this conversation. ‘Oh hi,’ she said. ‘I play basketball, netball, and webball. Do you play any sports?’
	Alan felt a little reluctant to reply, but he knew he should. ‘No,’ he admitted. ‘I don’t see the point in the physical fitness of your body if I’m only going to go and die eventually and lose it.’
	This statement had the exact effect Alan had expected. More people feeling uncomfortable in their seats. ‘Anyway, go on,’ said Alan hastily. Franky cleared his throat.
	‘This is Abby,’ said the anxious child, pointing to the tough looking girl on the other side of the table with the blonde hair. ‘She’s really strong. And she can make fire, but without matches.’ More mention of supernatural powers, thought Alan. He still wondered if he should be careful about what he was getting into, but he still he kept listening to every word.
	‘This boy is Will,’ said Franky. ‘Will is really good at Music. He can play the piano and the guitar and the duh – the digi – the…’ Franky’s face contorted into an expression of serious thinking. ‘And the didgeridoo,’ he concluded. ‘He can even write some music, like you hear on the music channel.’
	Matt cut in. ‘Indubitably. YI is very influential. Several of the songs you may have heard in the charts recently actually have synthesised background music designed by William here.’ Will sat up straight in his seat, looking very pleased with himself.
	‘And here is Timmy,’ said Franky. ‘Timmy is an artist. He can draw really well.’
	Alan was drumming his fingers on the table. He didn’t care for art or music. He saw them as very effective ways to waste your life. Neither subject was practical in real life in any possible way, so he just hoped that the conversation would accelerate a little faster.
	‘We’re getting - might be getting a new member soon,’ said Franky, grinning. ‘I saw his profile. He’s called Danny. He’s really funny.’
	‘That’s really great,’ said Alan, who was getting bored of the get-to-know session. ‘Could you explain more about the, uh, “magic” that you mentioned?’
	Franky opened his mouth to speak, but Matt cleared his throat urgently. ‘Whatever “supernatural” abilities our members have are not for them to discuss until you… reach a more appropriate age. That is company policy.’
	‘Company policy you just made up on the spot, I assume?’ Alan shot back at him.
	‘Don’t speak like that to meet, Al, or I’ll have you thrown out and you can go back to solving crosswords for money.’ Matt retaliated harshly. Alan decided that this was one man he probably shouldn’t get into an argument with, but nevertheless he continued the conversation.
	‘What did you mean by “when we reach an appropriate age”?’ he asked innocently.
	‘I meant,’ explained Matt sincerely, ‘that by the time you turn eleven you’ll be qualified to take this thing more seriously. We are aiming to meet in around about five year’s time, when we are going arrange a trip into space. In the meantime, we want to develop your skills. Each of you will be trained, and your abilities honed, to be your best. And you, Alan, will receive the finest mathematical and scientific tutoring this planet has to offer.’ Matt looked at him meaningfully. ‘How much of the Theory of Relativity do you know?’
	‘All of it,’ replied Alan smugly.
	‘And Quantum Mechanics?’ asked Matt.
	‘Most of it’ replied Alan, the smug smile slipping off his face.
	‘And how about putting the two together? Quantum Gravity?’ questioned Matt, with a smug smile now appearing on HIS face.
	A look of something that could’ve been surprise spread over Alan’s face. ‘It’s not possible… yet. I’ve been trying to get it to work but I just get a load of infinities over and over again.’
	The other kids on the table had no idea what they were talking about, but they listened still, knowing that they should get to know what Alan was like.
	Matt played his trump card. ‘I know a guy. From another planet, not Earth. He knows Quantum Gravity. It’s possible. If you get here next week, and you remember your place in the group, and be friendly with the others, we’ll teach you the most advanced scientific discoveries not only in Earth, but the whole UNIVERSE. How does that sound?’
	Alan was hooked on that. The look of surprise was quickly replaced by a huge smile. ‘That’s a deal, Mr. Rhead.’
He thought about what he could know. Lessons like that would sharpen his mind to exceptional standards. He would be possibly the smartest Earthling in the universe. He quickly remembered what Matt had said about what was going to happen in five years. Going into space… Alan had never been into space. He knew what it was like and how one should prepare for it from the books he had read, but he was curious to see how it would actually feel. He couldn’t help wondering what would happen after they went into outer space.

~*~*~*~*~

Al had only just realised that they were in outer space.
He hadn’t been able to see the bland darkness with white pinpricks in earlier, as the gun in his face limited his view, but now the man had left the room, giving him five minutes time before he returned.
In that time he had taken a proper look around the holding room. It was clear now that he must be in some kind of space vehicle, though he had absolutely no idea what kind of force was pinning him to the floor. Another question to add the list, he supposed.
‘Oh, so you’re up now? Oh, goodie.’
Alan spun round to see Franky sat up, wide awake on his bed.
‘I woke up ages ago, but I thought, “Hey, if Matt didn’t shoot me while I was asleep, pretending to stay asleep might be a good idea”, right? Hey, what’s my name again?’
Alan blinked at what he was listening to, and then answered the question. ‘Your name is Frank.’
Franky grinned. ‘Oh yeah.’
‘Franky?’
‘Hm?’
‘Did you say the guy with the gun is Matt?’
‘Oh, yeah. Guess your memory isn’t quite what it’s cracked up to be.’
Alan scowled at that. One thing he was known for in YI (and several parts of world, and in fact several illegal casinos, under the pseudonym “Mr. Boltus”) was his incredible memory. You could give him a random sequence of digits 40 numbers long and he could repeat it back to you two years on, and probably the exact date and time he was told them on.
	‘You can’t talk, I had to tell you your name,’ Alan retaliated. He enjoyed retaliating.
	Franky laughed at that. ‘You seemed to be having some trouble remembering yours.’
	The conversation was interrupted by a gasp. Alan and Franky quickly twisted their heads to see Daniel Parsons awaken, taking deep breaths, his wide eyes flickering around nervously.
	‘Hi there Danny,’ said Franky calmly.
	Danny’s look of anxious confusion quickly became relief at seeing his friend. ‘Well, haider Franky. What are we doing in beds? I can’t remember much. Like my name, but who needs names anyway? I bet it was something boring anyway.’
	‘Your name is Daniel.’
	‘Yup, boring.’
	‘We call you Danny,’
	‘That’s much better.’
	Franky and Danny halted their strange conversation when Matt re-entered the room.
	‘Ah, you two are awake,’ he said, pulling the gun out of what must’ve been the back of his trousers. ‘Your names, please?’
	‘Frank Galvini.’
	‘Daniel Parsons.’
	‘Well, that was easy,’ remarked Matt, slipping the gun back into his trousers. ‘Sorry about pointing the gun and everything, but I needed to make sure that your minds were all intact. The Mindnuke we ran into knocked us all out, so I was just checked it hadn’t destroyed your sanity or anything.’
	Alan blinked. ‘Mindnuke?’
	‘Ugh, is your short-term memory still acting up?’
	‘Think so.’
	‘Damn it. So you don’t remember everything I told you about Our Matters and aura?’
	‘What’s Our Matters?’ asked Danny innocently.
	‘Bleugh,’ said Matt. ‘I spent ages going through all of that.’
	Alan sat down on the side of his bed. ‘Matt, what happened to our memories?’ he asked.
	‘Long story,’ said Matt, ‘and one I’ve already told you once. In short, we were on our way to the moon, but that bloody government guy came along and tried to stop us.’ Matt rolled his eyes. ‘Said we didn’t have clearance on this space vessel.’
	‘Government guy?’ asked Franky, who happened to be quite into politics? You mean Simon Trench?
	‘Yeah, that’s the one,’ confirmed Matt. ‘We tried to leave, so he started shooting at us. Lasers and everything. Then he used the EXPERIMENTAL Mindnuke. It didn’t catch me because I was in the other side, but it got you three pretty bad, and got the other four ever worse.’ He pointed to Mach, Mikki, Abby and Justine, still all unconscious in their beds. ‘Honestly, trust a son of a bitch like that to use experimental weapons on someone for trying to fly their own ship a little distance.’
	A question from earlier suddenly returned to Alan. ‘Where are we going?’
	Matt sighed, clearly unhappy with explaining everything he had explained on the previous day. ‘We’re going to the moon.’
	‘The moon?’
	‘The moon.’
	‘Gonna tell us why?’
	‘Not yet.’
	All of a sudden the whole ship lurched. They all spun around to see several blue spheres out of the window, with windscreens and turrets.
	‘Oh, bloody hell,’ moaned Matt. He ran out of the infirmary and sat himself at a control panel. The children followed him obediently. ‘Flying a ship single-handed while under heavy fire was not in my job description.’
	‘Ooh, can I help?’ asked Danny, grinning.
	‘Out of the question,’ replied Matt, pressing a few buttons on the control panel at what seemed to be at random. The ship lurched to the left sharply. ‘You need five degrees in astronomy and two in astrology to even stand next to this panel.’
	‘If you have a manual, I could learn,’ stated Alan. Everyone turned to him. ‘I’m a quick learner, remember?’ he explained, smirking.
	Matt made a sort of “hmmph” sound. He ducked down under the table he was sat at and pulled at the door of a small cupboard. It was locked, but it seemed like Matt didn’t have the time to mess around with fiddly little things like keys. He pulled back his fist and punched at the lock, and it burst off the door. The cupboard swung open and he pulled out a very thick and dull looking book with no title.
	‘The manual,’ said Matt. He threw it at Alan who only just caught it. ‘800 pages of bland picture-less text. Have fun.’
	Matt returned to the panel, steering the ship without any use of a steering wheel. Alan stared at him. He had never seen technology like this before, so he assumed it must’ve been some kind of extra-terrestrial design. But didn’t that mean… Alan flipped a few pages into the book. It was completely written in an alien language. Helpful.
	‘Matt?’
	‘Hm?’
	‘What the hell is this?’
	Matt turned round to look at the pages Alan was showing him. ‘Ah,’ he remarked. ‘Yes, that’s written in Yeryerskah. Sorry, I think I have an Anglo-Americano copy in here somewhere…’ Matt returned to the cupboard that he had broken open and started throwing books out until he found one with a bright pink jacket that he was satisfied with. He opened the book about half way in, recognised the Anglo-Americano literature and threw it to Alan. He had to drop the alien book he was holding to catch it.
	‘There, now hurry up and be bored by the horrible, horrible book,’ concluded Matt, turning back to the control panel. All the buttons were glowing red. He pressed one of them and it fell off.
	‘Oh, bugger,’ he explained.
	The ship lurched upwards, then backwards, then Alan lost track of which directions were which. He heard sirens going off, and then the lights went out. Alan took the book and flicked through it, remarking to himself at how much Matt had overcomplicated it. It all made sense to Alan, though he was rather special. What language did he say that the foreign book was in? “Yeryerskah”? But that was the name of the initiative. He decided to ask about that at a more suitable time. He found a part that said about defence systems. He found something called an APEL, which apparently stood for “Aura Powered Electronic Laser”.
‘Matt!’ Alan yelled over the wailing of the siren. ‘Do we have an APEL?’
	‘APEL? Yeah, but it’s over the other side of the ship. Pretty hard to use while I’m dodging lasers, thank you very much.’
	Alan looked over at Matt, who was no longer pressing the buttons, but he seemed to be trying to pry the top panel off of the wall it was attached to. Alan ran over to the other side of the ship. ‘Franky, Danny, come with me!’ he yelled behind him.
	‘ALAN!’ screamed Matt. ‘WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT NEEDING DEGREES?’
	Alan wasn’t listening. He seated himself at a panel over the other side of the ship. He was sat right in front of a windscreen, from which he could see three of Simon Trench’s blue spheres, darting around angrily. On the panel was a big appealing joystick with a red button on top.
	‘Alan, do you know how to use this?’ asked Franky.
	‘I do now,’ he replied. ‘Franky, help me get this on.’ Alan pointed to what looked like a metal glove attached to the panel. Alan slipped his right hand in and Franky pulled the latch on it stiff, so that Alan’s hand was trapped. He felt the glove get warmer, and remembered from the book to focus on that hand, to feel as if that hand was all powerful.
	‘Al,’ said Danny, staring at the joystick, ‘are you going to shoot lightning at those blue things?’
	‘Hopefully,’ replied Alan helpfully. He grabbed hold of the joystick with his left stick, suddenly glad of the fact that he was ambidextrous. He moved the joystick and he noticed that the windscreen had a small crosshair projected on it. He positioned the crosshair at a blue sphere that was stationary, and –
	‘WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING IN SPACE?’
	A very good question thought Alan, though not exactly how I would’ve phrased it. It sounded like a certain arrogant YI boy had just awoken…
	Mikki stepped into the room. ‘Alan, what are we doing here? Why can’t I remember anything?’
	Franky turned around to speak to him. ‘We’re going to the moon for some reason but we’ve been attacked by giant blue balls and we’re trying to attack them with a lightning ray.’
	Mikki frowned. ‘That’s a bit strange but OK. How long have you guys been awake? Me and the others just woke up.’
	‘Uh, about five minutes. Now I just need to shoot the lightning ray…’ Alan repositioned the crosshair, but the blue sphere he was aiming at shot a laser directly at him. It hit the ship somewhere to the side, causing the entire spacecraft to lurch. The sirens switched themselves off, and there was silence. Alan felt himself rise upwards.
	‘What the…’ he said, as the artificial gravity that had been holding him down suddenly gave way to the freedom of outer space. He looked around and saw Abby pull herself through the door.
	‘Hey!’ she yelled, struggling to keep herself at an acceptable angle for conversation. ‘Matt says we’ve lost power! The gravity and engines are out!’
	Alan suddenly recovered a memory from yesterday. The space simulator in the USA, where they learned to get used to zero-gravity conditions. It seemed to have worked, seeing how nobody was passing out.
	Danny yelled at Alan. ‘Shoot the bloody ships, Alan! They’re gonna blow this thing to pieces!’
	Alan’s focus snapped back to the APEL system, where there were still three angry looking spheres. He pointed to one of them, and pressed the red button with his thumb.
	Nothing happened.
	He tried to think back to the book, and the advice it gave… Oh yeah, he forgot to think about his right hand being all-powerful. He focused on that right hand, feeling the energy in the glove, wishing it to work. He pressed the button on more time.
	A huge bolt of lightning shot from the lightning rod positioned above the APEL system. The bolt shot through the black void at the speed of light, and smashed into the blue sphere that Alan had aimed at. It instantly shattered into pieces, but the bolt didn’t stop there. It was conducted to the second sphere, which was also smashed to fragments, and then destroyed the third sphere as well. Then the bolt faded into nothing in the dark abyss.
	The children stared, some of them upside-down.
	‘Wow,’ remarked Franky. ‘So that’s what that was.’
	‘Well, they’re gone. We should probably get back to Matt,’ Alan instructed. He pulled the latch off the glove and removed his right hand, which was now slightly red. He floated off the seat and swam through the air to the doorway, where he pulled himself across the cockpit, and the other four kids followed.
	‘Hey, Matt,’ said Alan. ‘What’s the damage report?’
	The control panel was in pieces all over the table. Matt, who had strapped himself into the seat, seemed to be in the process of fixing each button individually with a screwdriver.
	‘Well, our battery is completely knackered. We’ve lost our gravity, as I think you might have noticed, and we’re flying on liquid fuel. At this rate, even if we could steer towards the moon, we would have no hope of landing, not with the ship being this heavy. At the moment we have no gravity so there’s no weight, but once we get to the moon, we’d need to be lighter or we’ll smash straight into the surface.’
	‘Wow, you’re beginning to sound like Franky,’ stated Danny. Franky stared at him. ‘What? You’re always the depressing one.’ Franky shrugged his shoulders in agreement.
	‘So what we need to do,’ said Mikki, thinking hard, ‘is to lose weight. So we just throw a load of unneeded 800 pages foreign instruction manuals and medical kits off the ship, and we get to safety, right?
	Matt shook his head. ‘That won’t work. If we open the doors, the pressure difference would suck us all out. The only safe way of getting rid of anything is the escape pod, and that can only be released from the inside.
	The children remained quiet. Then Abby piped up. ‘I’ll do it.’
	The others turned to her. ‘No way,’ said Matt. ‘You’d die out there.’
	Abby shrugged. ‘If I don’t, we die anyway. Besides, I can steer it.’
	‘There’s no steering.’
	‘There is if I say so.’
	Matt didn’t know what to say to that. He thought for a minute, and then said, ‘Well, it would get rid of some excess wait. I really don’t want to do this, but you’re right. If someone doesn’t do it, we all die. OK kids, take anything that isn’t nailed down and put it in the escape pod.’
	The escape pod was opposite the infirmary. Alan started throwing the manuals from the broken cupboard into the pod. Danny and Franky raided the infirmary, working around Will and Justine, who were still lying in bed, not unconscious, just sleeping lightly. Matt had come in and strapped them down so they didn’t float into a box of scalpels or something. Danny took the box and threw it into the escape pod, where it burst open and sent very sharp knifes going everywhere.
	‘Sly,’ remarked Franky.
	‘I meant to do that,’ explained Danny. ‘We’re a team, go pick them up.’
	‘What? No!’
	‘Aharhar, you’re scared.’
	‘No, you can clean up your own mess.’
	‘Ok Mr. Negative, I’ll do it.’ Danny put on a fake exasperated tone. ‘I thought we were friends.’
	Meanwhile, Mikki and Abby were cleaning out the back room of the ship in silence. They had dismantled most of the APEL system, which was extremely heavy. They dropped the large weightless metal chunks into the escape pod, which shifted slightly under the weight. Matt watched them as they threw in the last few bits and pieces.
	‘That should be enough,’ Matt decided. The others cleared the area and let Abby float in. ‘The released switch is on the wall,’ Matt said, pointing to the large switch on the wall. ‘Do NOT pull it until the door is closed, or we all die, and that would be pretty dumb. To steer, I guess only you know that,’ said Matt, feeling a bit sad that this girl he had known for five years now had to sacrifice her future for them. She stepped in, and faced them to say goodbye.
	‘See you on the other side,’ she said, her face expressionless, as Matt closed the chunky metal doors, obscuring her from view. Nothing happened for a second, and then they heard a large clunk, and the sound of the escape pod detaching itself. They all looked out of a round window and saw the metal sphere with no windows fly away from the ship, taking with them the heavy objects and the girl named Abby.
	There was silence, before Matt cleared his throat. ‘I should go back to fixing the control panel. We need to be able to land or all of this will have been for nought.’
	Alan and the others floated around the room, thinking to themselves. For whatever reason, they had been dragged away from Earth, and it had already cost them one YI member. And where were the others? Alan stood there, slowly turning upside-down, wondering why they were being taken away from their homes, and what was going to happen to them now.




~~~ CHAPTER TWO ~~~


MEETING MR. MORT


HARI HAD ACCIDENTALLY STUMBLED UPON THE SECRET OF ETERNAL YOUTH AND HE DIDN’T LIKE IT ONE BIT.

He looked at himself his full length mirror in his main bedroom on the 4th floor of his mansion, and marvelled at the way he hadn’t grown a millimetre in four months. The doctors had never seen anything like it, though, to be fair, the doctors didn’t know about his powers, either. He had first learned of his natural telepathy when he was about seven, and caused an innocent dog to attack an estate agent. Since then, he had learned to take control of the power. Of course, many people think that telepathy means mind-reading. Although mind-reading is ONE of the uses of telepathy, it is not the most useful, nor the easiest. The most common use of telepathy is to control – to plant messages into people’s subconscious and make them unwittingly carry out your demands. Planting a message into someone’s mind on a conscious level so they could hear you, or listening in on what people were thinking, would be much, much harder.
 Over the years, he had developed the power until he was pretty much the best telepath in existence. And he was going to be the best who ever lived when he reached adulthood. Unfortunately, that never happened.
Because by the time he was eleven he was experimenting with dangerous telepathy. He was not only messing with other people’s minds, but he was messing with his OWN. And all it took was one little mind message to himself saying to never grow up, and he was stuck. Growth hormones jammed, adolescence alarms put on hold. And he couldn’t reverse it himself, which was bad, since there was no telepath in the universe better than him.
He stared at his reflection. The year on Earth was 2022, but he wasn’t an Earthling. He knew all about Earth though. He had read whole books on Earth culture and language, for what he had planned. He was never usually the type to read books, but he needed to. He HAD to know all about Earth because he had spoken to Vityro, the God of Life himself. And Vityro said he could fix him, but only if he did a favour for him – a favour that involved masquerading as an Earthling. So Hari had done everything he could to prepare himself for what was planned. He decided that his hair was suitable for Earth standards, and he reminded himself to make sure that nobody noticed his four nipples. He bent down to a draw, and withdrew a file that Vityro had handed him. He withdrew the pictures from within. Six Earthling children, their names Frank Galvini, Timothy Wells, Justine Jenner, Abby Pascal, William Mach and Alan Newton. He stared at their young faces, and wondered if he was doing them any good by dragging them into a world in which they did not belong.

~*~*~*~*~

The moon landing was surprisingly smooth. In the time it had taken them to reach Earth’s satellite Matt had managed to fix the control panel, with, he neglected to admit to the others, a little of Alan’s help. Will and Justine had awoken as well, and Danny and Mikki had filled them in on the situation.
	‘We’re flying to the moon so we can teleport millions of light-years away,’ Danny had explained as thoroughly as he saw fit. ‘Also, Alan shot lightning at some giant metal balls with an apple.’
	Justine frowned. ‘Where’s Abby?’
	‘Oh, she ran off on the escape pod. She went with all of our lightning ray and medical supplies too, so she can tend for herself. Also, Alan threw in a load of books so she’ll have something to read.’
	Mikki cut in. ‘Actually, they were all the same book, in different languages,’
	‘Oh, were they? Well, maybe she can use them to learn new languages.’
	‘What about the others?’ Will asked. ‘Robbie, and Tabby, and the twins?’
	‘And Alex, and Kat?’ added Justine cautiously.
	Neither Danny nor Mikki had known, so they had turned to Matt.
	‘Oh, yeah,’ explained Matt once they asked him.
	‘Well, that clears that up,’ said Danny sarcastically.
	‘Uh, Robbie, Tabby, and the twins are going in on a separate ship. It was faster, but it didn’t have APEL or anything. I think they’re alright.’
	‘And what about Alex and Kat?’ asked Justine, getting more and more anxious.
	‘We had to leave them behind,’ said Matt. ‘We didn’t have time to get them onboard after Mr. Trench came along and screwed everything up. They’re safe, they’re with YI.’
	‘Are they going to catch up later?’
	‘Possibly,’ Matt lied. ‘Once we reach the facility in Yeryersk, you’ll be sorted in different Angles. You’ll probably be in Angle L; the ones on the other ship will be in Angle F.’
	Alan, who had been sat reading the English manual that he had not thrown off with Abby, looked up. ‘Yeryersk?’
	Matt smiled. ‘Yeryersk is a great continent on a planet very far away. It’s one of the most powerful nations in the universe. We named the Initiative after it because, well, it was so amazing.’
	‘If it’s a nation very far away,’ Alan asked slowly, tasting the words in his mouth, just to make sure he didn’t miss something big, ‘then why are we flying to the moon?’
	‘Oh, we set up a teleporter on the moon a while ago,’ explained Matt, grinning more. ‘Your first trip is always the most fun.’
	And now they had landed in the moon landing bay which was established by the Anglo-Americano Empire in 2019, to get rid of convicts. Now, it was a pressurised and ventilated and used privately by Mr. Matt Rhead.
	They stepped out of the craft, and remarked on the low gravity. At least there IS gravity, thought Alan, remembering floating around in the spacecraft, throwing around weightless books. He followed quickly after Matt, who was the only one not even attempting a somersault. After a quick walk through some bland corridors with dark grey boarded up doors, they reached a dark grey boarded up door. Matt pulled back his hand and pushed again the planks with his palm. The planks snapped like twigs and the door burst open. He stepped in straight away.
	‘How did you do that?’ Will asked.
	‘Probably the same way he blew open a locked cupboard earlier,’ muttered Alan. He really hoped that whenever they reached the distant planet that he would receive a decent explanation.
	The room they were in was grey and full of cabinets and draws, and at the end of the room was a small cubicle, which was sealed with a pair of rusty sliding doors. On the outside was a large switch that looked like it was in control of the electricity flow in the entire station. Matt had gone into one of the cabinets and pulled out a metallic canister with a small keyboard on it. But instead of the standard QWERTY layout, it had the same alien symbols that Alan had read in the book earlier. Yeryerskah, that’s what it was called. Alan made a mental note to try and learn this language some time. Matt had typed a quick message onto the canister and pushed a button the top. Then he walked over to the other side of the room, wrenched the rusty old doors open, threw the canister inside, and let the doors slam shut. Then he grabbed the large switch with both hands and threw it down.
	‘UNEXPECTED ITEM IN THE TELEPORTATION AREA,’ said a synthesised voice from the cubicle.
	‘Oh, bloody hell,’ muttered Matt, as he pulled the switch back up and pulled the doors open to inspect the cubicle. He really hated self-checkout teleporters. He spotted a small pebble lying on the floor. ‘Aha,’ he said triumphantly as he threw the pebble out of the cubicle. ‘Moon dust, worthless,’ he mumbled, as he returned to the switch. He threw it again, and this time there was no synthesised voice. But the switch latched in place, and the doors sealed shut, and the cubicle was filled with random colours and strange sounds like white noise. They danced inside the cubicle, sometimes making flashes of light. And then all of a sudden it all went away, and the canister was gone.
	The children stared. Matt, who seemed so hasty with the whole ordeal that he must’ve done it way too many times before, returned to a cabinet, withdrew a notebook and a pen, seated himself on the dusty floor and began scribbling notes. Will cleared his throat.
	‘Uhhh… Matt?’
	‘Hm?’
	‘What the hell just happened?’
	Matt sighed and placed his pen in the book and closed it on the floor. ‘I just teleported a message over to the guys on the other side. A go-ahead. We just have to wait a few minutes for them to prepare a few things.’
	‘And the book?’
	‘That’s nothing. That’s just something to pass the time.’
	Will frowned and walked off, wandering around the room while whistling a tune that nobody had heard before. Matt picked up the book and returned to his writing. Danny slowly slid his head around to try and see what Matt was writing, and Matt lightly stabbed at him with the pen. Danny jumped back quickly.
	‘Woah, sorry I tried to read your alien scribbles.’
	Matt scowled, considering going into a rant about how many years he had trained in Earth culture to learn flawless English, and decided against it. He just returned to the notebook.
	Alan, meanwhile, was pondering how his life had winded up here. He had joined YI when he was six, and there were only five members: Franky, Justine, Abby, Will and Timmy. Danny joined a few weeks later and almost instantly became best friends with Franky, which Alan still saw as one of the strangest friendships ever. A few years later, Timmy had been pulled out of the organisation, and was never heard from again, but then another five members showed up - Kat, Alex, Robbie, Tabby, and Mikki. While the others struggled to catch up with the group, Mikki took to it instantly. Which is probably why Mikki was in a ship with Matt and the original members, and the other four weren’t.
	Original members. Alan smirked at that. He was actually late to the first meeting, but nobody seemed to care. How nice they were. One thing that stuck out in his memory was who had recruited him in the first place. A boy called Hari. He would be around sixteen now, thought Alan. He wondered what had happened to him since then.

~*~*~*~*~

The eleven year old boy had arrived on Earth, with his disguise, ID and pseudonym. From now until his job was over, he was now known as “Hari Twibbet”, a name that Matt Rhead he chosen for him especially. Matt was an expert in Earth culture, and told him that it was a standard Earth name like his own. It was Matt who had introduced him to Vityro, after all, and Hari trusted his word.
	He was leaning against a wall in a small completely insignificant town in England. Completely insignificant except for one thing: the six year old resident Alan Newton. It was Hari’s job to get Alan into YI. YI was just a large set-up to conceal Vityro’s larger plan, and even Hari had no idea what it was. But even with the cover up, Vityro had known that the children would not just attend a meeting because a letter popped into their e-mailbox. They needed persuasion. Persuasion, of course, was Hari’s speciality, being the exceptional telepath that he was.
	He snapped out of his memories when he saw Alan walking through the street, carrying a plastic bag. His parents were nowhere to be seen. This was the perfect time to approach. He stepped off from the wall and intercepted young Alan’s path.
	‘Hello there, little child,’ he said with a huge smile on his face
	Alan froze straight away. This was the exact situation he knew to avoid.
	‘Sorry,’ he mumbled, pushing the older boy aside, ‘I don’t speak to strangers.’
	Vityro had been right, thought Hari. This one is a confident one.
	‘Wait, do not go,’ Hari said, holding out an arm to block his path. ‘You want to know what I am talking about, don’t you?’
	Alan immediately tried to run the other way, but he just didn’t. You don’t want to run, he was thinking. You want to know what he’s talking about. He agreed with his mind.
	‘What are you talking about?’ he asked, only vaguely aware of saying anything.
	‘Why, you want to know what I am talking about?’ asked Hari rhetorically, smiling at how easily he was about to use his telepathy. ‘I work for a little company called the Yeryerskah Initiative’. Alan’s eyes widened a little at that. Everyone knew about YI. It was all over the news. An organisation designed by the finest, for the finest, to breed a generation of exceptionally talented children, instead of the terrible generations that they had then. Alan nodded slowly.
	Hari paused for a second before replying. ‘What is in the bag?’
	Alan knew that this was definitely something he shouldn’t be talking about with a complete stranger, but he was still curious, and there was a voice in the back of his head saying There’s no harm in telling him, there’s no harm in telling him, over and over again. He decided that there was no harm in telling him. He opened the bag. ‘I’ve just gone out and bought some food supplies,’ explained Alan, ‘and some bobble heads and notepads. I ran out of space on my old ones.’
	Hari nodded a few times, having a good idea already of whose face was on the bobble heads. Alan was already very well known in his own right. The poor kid was only six, and Hari was just dragging him into even more chaos. Hari shook the thoughts from his mind, remembering that this was the only way to fix his growth. ‘Notepads, eh?’ Hari commented. ‘What do you need notepads for?’
	‘Well, you know the theory of relativity and the theory of quantum mechanics?’ asked the six year old child as if it were a standard question. ‘I’m trying to combine them into a whole new universal theory that could explain everything like black holes and the Big Bang, but it’s proving quite difficult.’
	‘I see,’ said Hari, not understanding anything the kid had just seen. He made a mental note to pass the few words he understood on to Matt. ‘Well, we have an open space available at the Yeryerskah Initiative,’ Hari explained. A wide grin spread against Alan’s face without Hari using any telepathy. That was a good sign. ‘We do not yet have a member as intelligent as yourself. Maybe you would be interested in joining us?’
	Alan’s response was almost immediate. ‘Where and when is it?’
	Hari pulled one of Matt’s business cards out of his pocket and handed it to Alan. ‘The first meeting is at 3:30 on Thursday,’ Hari said, seriously hoping he had remembered the dates and times correctly. ‘The address is on the card.’ Hari turned away from him and started to make his way down the pavement.
	‘Wait!’ yelled Alan, before Hari could walk away. ‘What’s your name?
	Hari hesitated. ‘You may call me Hari,’ he said, before twisting back round and walking off down the path.

~*~*~*~*~

‘It’s time,’ said Matt, looking up from his watch and tossing the book and pen back into the open cabinet. We’ve given them almost ten minutes to prepare, if they aren’t ready yet, then, they suck.’ He walked back over to the dormant teleporter and pulled the doors open. ‘Everyone inside!’ he yelled, while holding the heavy doors apart. The children obediently slipped into the small cubicle. Justine actually somersaulted in. Mikki was the last to wander in, but Matt blocked his path. ‘Hold up a sec, Michael,’ Matt grunted, clearly struggling to hold the doors open. ‘Could you throw the switch for me? I have my hands a bit full right now.’ Mikki shrugged and placed both hands on the large switch, and threw it down. ‘In quick!’ Matt yelled, ushering Mikki into the cubicle. There were already colours starting to dance in the air, like last time. The moment Mikki was in, Matt jumped in, letting the doors slam shut.
	Now that Alan was in there while it was working, he noticed just how weird the dancing colours were. He could hear the white noise again, but this time he felt the temperature suddenly rise or drop at complete random. He wondered if this was completely safe.
	And then, without any warning at all, they were in a different cubicle. This one looked much cleaner, as if someone had actually given it a scrub in the last few years. The doors were white and gleaming, and opened automatically. They stepped into an entire hallway of teleporters just like the one they were in.
	Matt turned around. ‘Is everyone OK?’
	Alan suddenly realised that he had just travelled millions of light years in a split second, and he felt absolutely fine. Then he lost his balance and fell over.
	‘Ow,’ he said blatantly. He looked around to see if anyone was giggling, but Franky, Justine and Mikki had fallen over as well, and Danny and Will had passed out.
	‘Told you that your first teleport is the most fun,’ Matt said with a grin. ‘Alan, Franky, pick up Danny. Justine and Mikki, you take Will. We need to hurry up and get to the demo, and I don’t have any smelling salts on hand.’
	Alan frowned at this, but nevertheless he pulled himself off the floor and grabbed Danny’s arms. Franky grabbed his legs. Mikki didn’t bother with the whole “teamwork” business, and just grabbed Will in a fireman’s lift. Justine walked along side Matt, looking somewhat disappointed to have a reasonable level of gravity back. The strange group walked off with Matt and Justine taking the lead and the rest bringing up the rear. It took a rather long time to get out of the teleporter room. ‘Just how many teleporters are there here?’
	Matt had to think for a second. ‘One hundred and thirty seven, I think,’ he replied. ‘Most of them lead to major places all over the world. They all come in pairs, though. It’s always one for going to one place from another, it’s one way,’
	‘You just said an odd number of teleporters though,’ argued Alan, still dragging Danny’s limb body.
	‘The one we just came through was the exception. There’s no exit teleporter for Earth’s moon.’
	‘So we can never go back?’
	‘My my, you catch on fast.’
	Alan followed Matt through the teleporter room door, which turned out to be a lift, and wondered if waking up this morning was really a good idea. Who knows, he thought, maybe I’ll go to sleep and wake up in my boring old life again.
	They all stepped into the lift and Matt hit the lowest button, which Alan could only assume was for the ground floor. The lift rumbled for a very short time, and then there was a ping. The doors opened.
	‘That was quick’, mumbled Franky, picking up Danny again. They trudged into the ground floor of a building covered in maps and flags.
	‘This is our languages department,’ explained Matt. ‘We call it the Tongue Block.’
	‘How many blocks like this are there?’ asked Mikki.
	‘Five. We’re heading off to the Core Block right now.’
	‘Why is the teleporter room in the languages department?’
	‘Well, where would YOU put it?’
	Mikki shrugged and held onto Will tighter. As they walked through, Alan noticed that the various alien scribbles over the walls were written in various alphabets. Different languages, Alan supposed. He looked around them and one map caught his eye. He pointed it out to the others. ‘That one’s in English.’
	The kids turned. The title of the map read “Map of the Yeryerskah World”. They saw several continents, with the largest one by far marked in grand letters as “YERYERSK”. It was somewhat bird shaped.
	‘Where are we?’ asked Justine.
	Matt pointed to a spot near to the centre of the west coast. ‘Here,’ he said. ‘In a little place called the Facility.’
	‘The Facility?’
	‘Indubitably.’
	‘Is that the whole name?’
	‘It’s in a small town not marked on the map called Storarch.’
	‘Ah, fair enough.’
	They had reached the very large front doors of the facility now. Upon leaving, they realised that “the Facility” was larger than they could’ve imagined. They were standing in the doorway of just one of dozens of buildings, all looking modern, dotted around at random.
	‘I thought you said there were only five blocks,’ stated the cynical Franky.
	‘Well, yeah,’ Matt admitted. ‘Most of these buildings are for defence and stuff.’
	‘Why would we need defence?’
	Matt didn’t answer, he just kept walking. He led them up a large flight of stairs, and past a large building that smelled strongly of chlorine. And then they reached the largest building. Not only was it one of the tallest, but it was also hundreds of metres wide. The Core Block, no doubt. The building was L shaped; a large rectangle shape with a lump on one end. They passed by a very large pair of automatic doors on the long side and made for the lump. A very ordinary door awaited them
	‘Why are we taking the smallest way in?’ asked Mikki.
	‘You kids ask a lot of questions,’ Matt mumbled.
	‘But, why?’
	‘This is the back entrance; it’s a shortcut to the main hall.’
	‘But, why?’
	‘We need to speak to our assistant head before the demo starts.’
	‘But, why?’
	‘None of your business. Yet.’
	Mikki opened his mouth to retort, but Franky shook his head at him. It was probably better to wait.
	They stepped through the door and headed through a brief white corridor with a window in the door. Through the window you could see a few men and women talking amongst themselves, with around a hundred children seated in front of them. Matt rapped his knuckle on the door.
	The adults turned around to look. One of them, who was completely bald and dressed in a smart suit, smiled, and walked up to open the door to him.
	‘Matt, I was wondering what happened to you,’ the man said in a dominant voice. ‘You’re late, everyone else has already arrived.’ The man took a peek around him to see the two unconscious children being supported by the others. ‘Matt, were there a few complications?’
	‘You might say that,’ Matt admitted. ‘The Earthling, Simon Trench, objected to our intentions.’
	‘How immature.’
	‘Indubitably. He slowed us down us down considerably. He would’ve taken us down completely if young Alan here hadn’t have used the APEL system.’
	Alan suddenly felt quite comfortable as the authoritative man’s eyes slid from Matt to him. He struggled to keep his head up under that glare.
	‘You’ve already used aura technology?’
	‘What?’
	‘APEL. It stands for Aura Powered Electronic Laser. It’s powered by your own life force.’
	‘Life force?’
	The man sighed and his gaze steered back towards Matt. ‘You didn’t tell them?’
	Matt looked as if his dignity he just been heavily dented. ‘I did. But that Trench man hit them with a Mindnuke. They forgot everything I said.’
	‘That man sounds like a bit of a nuisance.’
	‘A little.’
	‘Why are two of them unconscious?
	‘First teleportation threw them off a little. They’ll be fine after a few slaps in the face.’
	The man stayed quiet for a few seconds, and then said, ‘Lerv skand Berf askoish art iev haik sispibair.’
	The children stared. Presumably, this language was the spoken version of Yeryerskah. That didn’t get them any closer to understanding it.
	‘Aim skoi Berf oach bernf?’ Matt replied, clearly having no trouble in speaking the alien language.
	‘Oonkspoo siem Int with askoi,’ the man replied bluntly. ‘Lerd Int eef erlaim.’
Matt bowed a bit. ‘Gainf, Mort.’
‘Erl each Eesh ESKIV Mort art askand, Matt’
Matt rolled his eyes. ‘Gainf, Eskiv Mort.’
‘Siemmeeng iev sengpaiteh, Matt.’
Matt sighed. ‘Gainf, Eskiv Mort. Oonfiev, Eskiv Mort.’
‘Oiteet. Ech Int.’
Matt bowed and left, ushering the children to follow. The man closed the door.
‘And what was THAT about?’ asked Franky.
‘The reason we switched language was to speak in private, I’d have thought that much was obvious.’
‘But what did you – ’
‘That’s enough.’
Franky stopped talking. None of the children had any idea what had just happened, so they just decided to forget about it. But Alan was different. He could remember every word, every single syllable uttered in the conversation. And when he got the chance he would find out what they were talking about, just because he really did not like being kept in the dark.
Matt lead them back out of the very normal door and took them round the large electronic doors they had seen earlier. The main corridors of the Core Block were… really something. It was a large hallway, which somehow managed to portray classic architecture and modern conveniences simultaneously. The marble stairways lead to an upper level that was only separated from the lower level by a railing. The halls were a perfect white, the clean colour disturbed only by posters with very complicated equations and mathematical related jokes dotted around. Matt took them to the right and lead them down the white halls, past various rooms that looked like lecture halls, only designed for fewer people, and with much more room for practical activity. The last room they passed before they reached the end of the hallway seemed to have an aeroplane hangar installed. Whatever we’re doing here, Alan thought, It might be fun.
They found themselves in a reception area. Matt turned to the left and spoke to a woman behind a desk, who had turquoise hair.
‘Hello there,’ said Matt. ‘We need to accelerate these kids’ minds a little.’
Alan twisted his head sharply. ‘What?’
Both Matt and the woman ignored him. ‘You can have ten minutes,’ she said, and pointed towards the door on her right. Matt thanked her and took them in. He locked the door behind him.
‘Matt…’ Franky started. Matt ignored him completely and turned a tap on. He turned a dial on the side all the way to a snowflake symbol and took a glove out of a cupboard and filled it full of freezing water. He turned off the tap and pinched the end of the glove so the water wouldn’t pour out.
‘Matt, what the hell is this?’ asked Mikki, having absolutely no idea about anything that had happened in the last hour or so.
‘Put Danny and Will on the floor,’ Matt instructed, seeming to get satisfaction from ignoring children. But they obeyed, gently laying the unconscious pair on the floor. Matt knelt down at Will’s side, and carefully took his pulse. Then he pulled around the glove full of ice water and slapped him in the face. Will suddenly awoke, arms flailing in the air.
‘Wharablargarble,’ Will murmured, trying to grab a hold of the situation. Matt turned and took Danny’s pulse. He couldn’t find it, so he looked up sharply.
‘There’s no pulse,’ Matt said quietly.
‘What?’ Franky yelled.
Matt took the glove and slapped him a few times. It didn’t work. He pointed the glove upwards above his head and let go of the end. A stream of icy water splashed over Danny’s face. He shot upwards, let out a girly scream and spluttered a bit. He gasped for breath.
‘Wha… uhh… why’s everyone looking so shocked?’
‘You were dying.’
‘What?’
‘You had no pulse.’
‘Seriously? Wow. I could’ve died? What a tragic loss.’
Will piped up. ‘What happened?’
‘You both passed out when we went through the teleporter,’ Matt filled in. ‘It was your first time, don’t worry.’
‘How come you guys didn’t pass out?’ Danny asked.
Franky shrugged. ‘We’re special.’
‘You’re very special.’
‘Thank you.’
Matt cleared his throat. ‘OK, now everyone’s nice and conscious, let’s hurry up. We’re late enough as it is.’ He led the group to a locked door, which he pushed his palm against and blew open. Matt, Alan assumed, was not a fan of keys.
‘Matt?’ asked Alan. ‘Do you know what happened to Danny?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you going to tell me?’
‘No.’
Alan sighed. They walked into a room with eight chairs and helmets attached that looked like colanders.
‘We’re going to mess with your minds slightly,’ Matt explained. ‘There are some legal issues with what we’re doing. See, we’re not allowed to just take children like we’re doing. Sixteen year olds, however, are fine.’
‘You’re going to change our age?’ asked Alan, very afraid of the answer.
‘Only your mental age,’ answered Matt. ‘Don’t worry; your bodies should remain the same. You’ll being to think like sixteen year olds though. You will do for the next five years, until your body catches up. Think of it like this: you’ll get to skip straight past puberty. That’s a real pain for most people.’
‘You can’t just change our ages,’ objected Franky. ‘There must be some law against it… it’s not even possible, is it?’
‘The machines were both designed and authorised by the God of Life himself,’ said Matt proudly. ‘They’ll HELP you. You’ll be able to think better. You’ll be able to use powers you couldn’t dream of before.’
God of Life? thought Alan. Powers? Probably more stuff I can’t remember from yesterday…  He decided not to ask.
‘What if we say no?’ asked Will.
‘You won’t, because you have nowhere to run,’ answered Matt. ‘Get in the chair.’
With no other option, the children each found themselves a chair and pulled the helmets over their heads. ‘Once you have undergone the changes, you will need to pick a name for yourself. Something simple. Just two names, that’s all. Oh, and Yeryerskah people rarely share their surnames, so don’t worry about that too much.’
Danny looked up from under his colander helmet. ‘A new name?’ he stated. ‘Don’t we get any time to think about it?’
‘We usually give out leaflets about it,’ said Matt, ‘but we’re running too late as it is. Now sit back while I throw the big switch.’
‘Will it hurt much?’ asked Franky.
‘You’re about to go through five years of your teenage mental life in a matter of seconds, it might hurt emotionally, I suppose.’
He came around to all six children and strapped them into their seats securely. Once they were all completely incapable of movement, he walked over to a very large switch, similar to the one that had powered the teleporter they had arrived on. He gave a toothy grin as he threw the switch down.
And the most absolutely STRANGE feeling shot through the steel helmet and into Alan’s mind. His muscle tensed and he felt as if he were receiving an electric shock that didn’t harm him. He felt amazed, then alarmed, then betrayed, then depressed, then cheerful. He had absolutely no idea what was going on. And then, just like that, it was over. Matt had pulled the switch back up, and then shock treatment was over. Matt came around and unbuckled everyone from their chairs. Danny fell out of his chair when he was unbuckled, wriggling on the floor. This was fairly normal though.
Alan was lying back on his chair, trying to regain some control of his own head, but it was racing, and then he felt sleepy and energetic at the same time. He felt uncomfortably warm while at the same time feeling rather cold. Maybe that was how all sixteen year olds felt. He saw a shape pass over his sleepy vision, and recognised it to be Matt.
‘What do you choose for your name?’ Matt asked.
Aw, not again, Alan thought. He remembered being in pretty similar circumstances earlier that very day. What was that nickname that had triggered his memory? He put the effort into moving his head to one side, to see Mikki there, nearly half asleep. Boltus, he thought. That’s what Mikki had called him. Alan looked up to stare Matt in the eyes.
‘A,’ said Alan, suddenly realising speaking was much harder than he’d predicted.
Matt frowned. ‘Were you going to say Alan?’
‘Al,’ said Alan. ‘Al… Boltus.’
‘Al Boltus?’
‘Yeah.’
Matt wrote something down on a clipboard that Alan – or Al, was he was now – had suddenly noticed that Matt was holding. Matt then moved on the person next to him, but he couldn’t see who it was, and he couldn’t make out the conversation. He just wanted to SLEEP. But Matt wouldn’t have it.
‘OK, everyone on their feet,’ Matt instructed. ‘We’ve done everything on the checklist and we need to get to that demo NOW.’
Al, knowing better than to ignore Matt when he said “NOW” like that, forced himself off of the seat, slipped, and nearly fell over. He stood up dizzily, to join the other five children whose names he didn’t know. Matt walked out of the room, and they followed. On the way, they discussed their named. Justine and Mikki, like him, had kept it simple. They were still Justine and Mikki. Will had chosen his surname, and called himself Mach Lander. Franky and Danny, however, had been a little more adventurous.
‘Psycho Franky?’ Al repeated back to Franky, exasperated.
‘Indeed.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘I spent nearly a year of my childhood in a mental home; of course I’m bloody serious.’
‘But seriously… PSYCHO Franky?’
‘Danny’s is worse.’
Al turned to look into to face of the never-take-anything-with-any-degree-of-seriousness face of Daniel Parsons.
‘What did you choose, Danny?’
‘Well Haider.’
‘Well Hai – WHAT?’
‘It’s a greeting. Like “Well, hello there!”, only better sounding.’
‘You named yourself after a GREETING?’
‘Yeah, of course. Now people can say “Well haider, Well Haider”.’
‘And you’d like that, would you?’
‘Of course! All my life I’ve had a boring name. This very morning I woke up and forgot it, and had to face the disappointment of remembering it. Now, I have a new one. An ORIGINAL one. It’s cool.’
‘It’s really not.’
‘Neither is your face.’
‘What?’
‘Yeah, I went there.’
‘Everyone shut up now,’ Matt said. The walk out of the room in the reception to the door that led to the main hall had not been a long one. Matt opened the door, to a room full of a hundred and fifty children from various races and planets, all the same age as them and having gone through the same mind zapping and name choosing process as them. Matt led them to the right hand side of the room, ushering them to sit in a few available spaces in the middle, not too close to the front or the back. He went into a box located on the floor on the right hand wall, and picked out six packaged boxes, and handed one to each of the Earthlings. They were fully aware that everyone was watching them. Five of them tried to ignore it. “Well Haider” seemed quite happy about it. ‘Open them quick, pull out the headphones and put them in,’ he whispered. They obeyed, opening the boxes. The content of each one was a white tablet with a touch screen that was currently blank. They each put the buds in their ears. ‘Ok, can you understand me now?’ said Matt. ‘How about now? And now?’
Al frowned. He could see Matt’s mouth moving, but the words didn’t match the mouth movements. He immediately realised what was happening. The tablet was translating for him! He grinned as Matt walked off up the aisle through the middle of all the children to the front, where he shook the hand of the bald man and walked off to the side, to stand with the other adults. The bald man walked up to a podium in front of the children and cleared his throat.
‘Welcome,’ he began, ‘to our little facility.’ He grinned at them. ‘I’m sure many of you have questions, which I hope I will cover here. You are here because you all have talent, whether you are aware or not. You have all been selected by Vityro to come here, to train, to work, and become the future of civilisation. Whether your ability is mental aptitude or sheer physical strength, we will train it. If you can use your aura, we will strengthen it. If you can’t, we will show you how. We are determined to make you the best that you can be.’
Al frowned at some of this. Who was Vityro? And “aura”? Didn’t someone say something about aura being life-force? He looked at the cardboard box in his hands. It was completely plain and gave no clue. He decided that continuing to listen would be a good idea.
‘My name is Mort,’ said the bald man, ‘but you may call me Mr. Mort. I am assistant head of this facility. Vityro is our head, but you won’t see him around much, so as long as you are here you will answer to me. I’m sure many of you have met Matt, our Human Resources manager.’ Matt looked up at them and waved his hand. ‘There are one hundred and fifty six of you,’ continued Mr. Mort, ‘and you will be sorted into six groups, or “Angles” as we call them. Could everyone please open your boxes now?’
Al looked around as all the other children opened boxes by them, and inspected their content. They all had white tablets like him.
‘This is the only piece of equipment you need here,’ explained Mr. Mort. ‘We call it the Omnifact. It has already got your names, information and languages inputted. It is a calendar, notepad, calculator, search engine, translator, and horoscope. These cost a lot of time and money to engineer for you and you will not be supplied another one, so do NOT lose it.’
Al carefully slipped his Omnifact into his pocket.
‘Tomorrow, you will begin your classes, but for today, you may return home. Your timetables, Angles, teachers and classmates, have been installed into your Omnifacts. They really are quite useful.’
The Earthlings frowned. HOME? They had no home. But Mr. Mort was still wrapping up his speech.
‘Tomorrow, you will meet your designated Angle leader, but now, it is time you were dismissed. You will leave row by row for now.’
As Mr. Mort began dismissing the rows, they left through various doors, seeming to know exactly where they were going. How did they know? How would Al know? Then he remembered the Omnifact. He pulled it out of his pocket, and once he was dismissed he headed straight towards Matt.
‘Head of Human Resources, eh?’ Alan commented.
‘Uh-huh. My job was to get you guys where you were supposed to be.’
‘It took you five years.’
‘Yes it did. Next comment please.’
‘Our homes.’
‘Ah.’
‘Where are we staying?
Matt thought for a second, as if trying to remember exact instructions. ‘You have apartments.’
Al blinked. ‘Apartments?’
‘Indubitably. You all have simple homes. You need to go into your Omnifacts, and then press Notes, then My Stuff, then – wait no, you press My Stuff, and then Notes, then you click the note marked “Getting Home”. I put it on there myself. Just go back to the Tongue Block, and follow the teleporter paths. You’ll reach your destination in no time.’
‘What if I can’t remember how to get back to the Tongue Block?’
‘There’s a map for that.’
‘What if I can’t read which teleporter is which.
‘There’s a translator for that.’
Al sank, and walked off through the door they came in through. He couldn’t help wondering if they were being dealt too much responsibility to themselves. Just because he was mentally older now did not mean he had to take on so much for himself. He didn’t feel like he should be in control of his own situation so much, after everything that had happened so far. He left the hall and returned to the reception, returning down the hall he had come down, with the rest of the Earthlings following his every step without him even noticing.




~~~ CHAPTER THREE ~~~


DAY ONE


THE FIRST THING THAT AL LEARNED ABOUT TELEPORTATION IS THAT THE ONLY PEOPLE UNQUALIFIED ENOUGH TO OPERATE THEM WERE FAILED BUS DRIVERS.

He had found his apartment quickly enough. Upon his return to the teleportation room, he checked the note that Matt had left him. It had taken three separate teleports to reach his new hometown. The first one he found he had found in the teleportation room led to the public Storarch teleport house. All of the other children who were not from Earth had got home quickly, but the Earthlings had taken longer. Luckily, Al had some company on his teleporter journey, as “Psycho” Franky and Mikki were following the same route as him.
After the first teleport, the teleporters were no longer self operated, but had unshaven and poorly clothed men pulling the switches every ten minutes. It did not look like a very hard job. The place that they teleported to second was a strange place called Crang, which had a pink teleport house. Al’s final teleport took them to a lovely little town called Muchly, which was where Al’s apartment was located.
‘Well, Franky, this is my stop.’ Al said.
‘Mine too,’ said Mikki’
‘Please, my name is Psycho now,’ replied Psycho.
‘Very well,’ said Al. ‘See you tomorrow, “Psycho”.’
‘Presuming I don’t wake up and realise it was all a shame.’
‘I hope you don’t. That would mean that I’m just a figment of your imagination. I’d rather be real.’
‘Don’t worry, you’re really real.’
‘Al,’ said Mikki, ‘shut up. Let’s go.’
Al and Mikki left. Psycho Franky still had one more teleport before he reached the neighbouring town of Gazip, but Al and Mikki were done. Al had found a map of Muchly on his Omnifact, which proved that Muchly was not very big at all, and he left Mikki located his apartment quickly enough. He had taken up the very quick lift to his very blue apartment, found the very comfortable bed, and fallen asleep very quickly.
In the morning, Al had found a tumble dryer that had somehow cleaned his clothes in a matter of seconds perfectly. They were even folded. Al made a mental note to find out how it worked after he finished his first day. The Omnifact had requested him to arrive at 9:00, by catching the Muchly-Crang teleport at 8:30, then the Crang-Storarch at 8:40, followed by the very limited access Storarch-Facility at 8:50. It seemed odd that this alien planet had exactly the same time system and time in one day as Earth, but he didn’t dwell on the matter. While waiting in the Muchly teleport house, Al noticed two other children their age holding Omnifacts. He pointed them out to Psycho and Mikki.
‘More of Vityro’s happy little kids,’ Psycho said quietly so they wouldn’t notice. One of them, a strong looking girl with reddish hair noticed.
‘Bearnt?’ she said, looking confused. Al frowned. Not many people spoke English around these parts. He took out his Omnifact and plugged in his translating headphones. He gestured for Mikki and Psycho Franky to do the same.
‘Sorry, I only speak English,’ Al explained to the girl. She clearly didn’t understand, so he pointed to his headphones, and she realised what he was doing. She pulled out her own Omnifact and did the same. He repeated his message, and her face lit up in realisation.
‘So you’re one of the Earthlings, are you?’ she stated more than she asked. ‘Earthlings speak English, right?’
Al frowned at Franky, and shrugged. ‘Yeah, we both are. My name is Alan New – My name is Al. This is Mikki, and this is Psycho Franky.’
Franky shook his head. ‘Just Psycho, please. What about you?’
She smiled, looking glad to meet some new people. ‘My name is Lyle. I was chosen by Matt because of my strength. I’m quite smart, as well.’
Psycho nodded. ‘Very fit. What about your friend?’
‘Hmm?’ She looked around at the other Omnifact user, who was a short boy in a hooded jumper, sticking to the corner of the teleporter. ‘Oh, he’s not my friend. I don’t know him.’
The boy looked around. ‘Good to meet you. Name’s Tiner. What’s yours? Oh, that’s nice. Good to meet you. Kay, bye.’ He turned back around straight away.
‘What a charming fellow,’ mumbled Al sarcastically. ‘Do you know anyone going too?’
‘Oh yes,’ Lyle said. ‘I have four friends coming aswell. They’ve all been put in the same Angle as me. Isn’t that nice?’
It suddenly occurred to Al to check his own Omnifact to check out their classmates. He looked at the screen and pressed the button marked “Profile”. He saw the answer right there.
‘Angle L,’ said Al. ‘What about you?’
‘L,’ said Psycho.
‘L,’ said Mikki.
‘L,’ said Lyle.
‘That’s good,’ said Al, now searching his Omnifact for the list of the rest of the people in Angle L. He found it surprisingly quickly. The others, Tiner excluded, crowded around Al’s Omnifact.
‘Look, there’s Justine, Mach, Well,’ said Franky, grinning. Then he frowned. ‘What about the others? The ones who went in on the other ship?’
‘No idea,’ said Al. ‘Maybe they chose names we don’t recognise. Maybe they’re in a different Angle.’
Mikki sunk. ‘I hope they’re still with us. Hey, how many Angles are there?’
Al pressed a few more buttons and found the list of Angles. ‘T, L, P, Z, D, and F,’ he read. ‘The first six letters of the alphabet, it says.’
Mikki and Franky looked confused. Lyle understood. ‘The Yeryerskah alphabet,’ said Al to explain.
‘Oh, fair enough,’ said Franky. He opened his mouth to continue, but then he was teleported. The cubicle was pink. They were in Crang.
‘Wow, I didn’t even feel the teleport that time,’ said Mikki as they walked out of the cubicle and headed for the one leading to Storarch. ‘No more people for this stop? Shame.’
Ten very boring minutes passed before the goon by the switch threw it, and they reached the Storarch teleport house. The five of them walked over to the sealed off Facility teleporter. This one required a slightly more experienced goon to operate. ‘This teleporter is available to Friends of Vityro only,’ he said in one of the most boring voices Al had ever heard. He frowned. He had had no problem getting through it yesterday…
‘Wait a second,’ said a voice coming from behind them. They turned around to see another girl pull out an Omnifact. Lyle grinned happily. ‘Hi, Sashah.’
‘One of your friends, I presume?’ said Al. Lyle nodded as she let the girl named Sashah through. She pressed a few buttons on her Omnifact and then a recording of a man’s voice came out.
‘I, Vityro, hereby give permission for Sashah to enter the Storarch-Facility teleporter,’ said the voice. The goon nodded and let Sashah in. The other five children searched their Omnifacts aswell. Al’s permission recording arrived first, then Lyle’s and Psycho’s, and finally Mikki’s and Tiner’s. The goon gave out a little cry and let them all in so that the nasty noise would leave him alone. They spent the remaining ten minutes before they reached the Facility getting acquainted with their new teleporter buddy.
‘My name is Sashah,’ said Sashah, ‘and it’s not Sasha. I don’t like the name Sasha. Sashah is much better.’
Once that was out of the way, Al asked a question that had been troubling him for a while.
‘Who is the God of Life? And Vityro? Who are they?’
‘They’re the same guy,’ explained Lyle.
‘What?’
‘Vityro IS the God of Life. He’s the guy who invented life.’
‘I thought life was created by lightning strikes through certain gases.’
‘No, that’s a terrible theory. Who said that?’
‘Earth scientists.’
‘I see.’
‘Vityro’s the one who chose all of us to do this program,’ said Sashah, grinning. ‘He chose Matt to go and recruit everyone he chose.’
‘But why WERE we all chosen?’ asked Psycho. ‘Why are they “training us up”? What are they trying to do?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Sashah, the grin slipping from her face momentarily, but then immediately resurfacing. ‘But it’ll be fun to find out.’
Upon their arrival in the Facility, which still didn’t appear to have a name, they explored the buildings. They got as far as checking out everything in the Tongue Block that they had arrived in before a bell sounded, signally the start of the day.
‘Time for registration, I suppose,’ Al muttered. He checked his Omnifact, which was seeming more and more like the most useful gadget he’d ever possessed, and discovered that Angle L were registered in Room C-4, which meant the fourth room of the Core Block.
‘Cool,’ muttered Mikki upon realising this. ‘Let’s get going then, don’t want to be late…’
They left the Tongue Block and headed up a flight of stairs to the Core Block. They entered and, after checking maps, headed left. They found a door that Lyle and Sashah identified as reading C-4. They opened the door and stepped in anxiously.
‘Woah, Jesus,’ said Mikki, upon seeing the man seating in the seat in front of the class.
‘What?’ asked Al. ‘What’s the pro – Holy God.’
Lyle hit him. It hurt. ‘Be quiet, don’t be so offensive.’
Al was surprised by that. ‘Offensive?’
‘You can’t just discriminate people because of how they look.’
‘But…’
‘But what?’
‘He has four arms.’
‘So what? Let’s just sit down and be quiet.’
Lyle walked over and sat with three other girls and Sashah followed her. Tiner headed straight over to a crowd of boys at the back. Al located Danny and Will, and went to sit with them. Psycho and Mikki followed suit. Danny welcomed them with open arms. ‘Al, Psycho, Mikki. My Earthling brethren. Come, sit. I insist you receive our top hospitality.’
Psycho slapped him and Danny slapped him back. ‘It’s rude to slap,’ he said.
‘Ah, shut up Danny,’ said Psycho, relaxing into a chair.
‘My name is not what you think it is, Earth Brother. You may call me Well Haider.’
‘Oh right, forgot about that. Shut up Well Haider.’
‘Actually, call me Well. It is my first name after all.’
Psycho rolled his eyes. ‘Danny?’
‘Well.’
‘Well?’
‘Yes?’
‘What happened in the medical room yesterday?’
‘What happened in the medical room what?’
‘You died.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Yet you’re still here.’
‘You want us to run off and start solving mysteries?’
‘Do you know what happened?’
‘I had a dream.’
Al looked around at this point. ‘A dream?
‘Yeah. A dream. You know, the things you see when you’re asleep?’
Al sighed. ‘What happened in the dream?’
‘I was in a place that was completely white, and I had no body. But I made one, and then some clothes appeared. I walked around in the complete whiteness for a bit, then I got bored and a dancing monkey appeared. Then Matt splashed icy water in my face and I woke up. It was very realistic.’
Al rubbed his temples, as he always did when he was getting exasperated. ‘Realistic?’
‘Yeah. It all felt real.’
‘That’s normally what realistic means…’
Well opened his mouth to reply, but the four armed man at the front had stood up. ‘Everybody quiet now. I would like to take register.’ He sat down at his computer and began reading off names, the same names that Al had read on the class member list. He looked around to see who he recognised. Justine was there, mixing with a girl over the other side of the room, but there was no sign of any other Earthlings.
‘I guess the rest of us are in a different Angle,’ said Al to the others.
Mikki’s large shoulders slumped. ‘So we’re not gonna see them in any classes?’
‘Doesn’t look like it,’ replied Alan. ‘Yes sir,’ he added as his teacher called out his name. ‘You never know, we might see them at breaks and lunch and stuff.’
‘I suppose so,’ Mikki murmured. ‘Yes sir.’
A few moments later the register was complete, and they were dismissed. Al checked out his timetable, stared for a second, and hit a snag.
‘Um, what day is it?’ Al asked to Will, who was now called Mach.
Mach looked around. ‘No idea. Ask an alien.’
Al caught Lyle and Sashah as they left the room with their friends. ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘My name’s Al and I have no idea what day it is.’
A couple of them looked at him with patronising eyes, but Sashah explained. ‘Calm down guys, he’s an Earthling; he’s new to, like, civilisation.’ Sashah turned to face him. ‘It’s Sintist today. First day of the six day week.’ Al looked down at his timetable to see the “Sintist” lessons.
‘History, PE, Break,’ Al read. Then he squinted slightly. ‘Then Tactics, Aura Studies, Lunch, and finally Yeryerskah.’ He looked at the girls. ‘Sounds fun,’ he said.
They checked which room they had History in, and found it. They were in Room H-7, the seventh room of the Hand Block. Al thought that building sounded too much like a karate defensive manoeuvre. On the walk to the new block, the girls introduced themselves. They had all known each other, and now got to go to the same facility together. There was a ginger girl called Nil, who was very similar to Lyle, as they had known each other for a long time. Then there was Guibian, a slim girl who was very good at mathematics. And finally there was Nara, who was a little short, but announced that she was here because she had very special powers, which she was going to show later.
Upon reaching the Hand Block, they realised that it was by far the tallest building there. They entered, and realised the entire first floor was composed of one classroom and few offices. They reached the lift, and headed to floor 6, where the seventh room was located. They arrived to a bland room, covered in posters written in Yeryerskah displaying timelines and famous battles.  On the electronic white board at the front of the class was a seating plan.
‘Excellent,’ muttered Psycho.
Al found himself at the end of a row, seated next to a tall boy he didn’t know. He was playing a game on his Omnifact that looked like ping pong, except with more explosions. Al stared as the old female teacher pointed at him with a stick. ‘No games in my class,’ she growled. The boy sighed and hit a button in the corner, and the game vanished.
‘I didn’t know Omnifacts had games on,’ said Al.
‘They don’t,’ said the boy. ‘I programmed it in myself.’
Al blinked. ‘You coded a whole game in one night?’
‘It’s a very basic game.’
Al stared for a second, and then shook the amazement from his head. ‘Sorry, hi. My name’s Al.’
The boy stuck out his hand. ‘Name’s Lowin. Professional programmer and mathemagician.’
Al shook the hand. ‘Unprofessional wonderer and general wise-guy.’
Lowin smiled for a second, then asked, ‘Hey, what did you think of our tutor earlier?’
‘Four arms, didn’t say anything, won’t reveal his name?’
‘That’s the one.’
‘Enigmatic, I’d say.’
‘Really? I’d just say bored.’
Al was about to reply when the teacher in front of the class began their first class. ‘Alright,’ she said, pausing to make sure not a single person was talking. ‘My name is Leorard, and I will be teaching you History for this year.’ She walked over to her computer, to start a slideshow.
‘Do all adults share their first names for everything?’ Al whispered to the boy named Lowin.
‘Well, yeah,’ said Lowin. ‘You’re from Earth, right? Things are different there, aren’t they? Here, people use their first name for EVERYTHING. They don’t usually even share their surname until after they die.’
‘Are you talking, boy?’ scowled the woman at the front.
‘I was,’ replied Lowin calmly. ‘Not anymore.’ He frowned for a second. ‘Well actually I AM now, but you know what I mean.’
The teacher’s frown somehow turned even sharper than it already was. ‘Just so long as you don’t speak again.’
Lowin shrugged his shoulders and reclined in his chair. Leorard cleared her throat.
‘As it is our first lesson, I feel that we should start from the very beginning. Easy starter question, who were the three main Gods?’
Hands shot up in the air. None of them from Earthlings though.
The teacher pointed the hand of the girl called Nara and she answered. ‘Vityro, Myrano, and Liaguo.’
The teacher nodded at each one. ‘Good.’ She wrote their names in bubbles in a triangle formation on the whiteboard, and then, upon looking at some confused faces around the room, wrote them again in English below on the whiteboard. ‘Now, who can tell me what they’re the Gods of?’
Nara stuck her hand up again, but this time Leorard chose her friend Guibian. ‘Myrano was the God of Fire,’ she answered. The teacher nodded, writing her answer below Myrano on the board. She looked around again, and this time chose Nara again.
‘Isn’t Liaguo the God of Water?’ she asked and answered at the same time. The teacher nodded, and wrote that up too.
‘And what about Vityro?’ she asked. Al, sensing an opportunity, stuck his hand in the air.
‘You...’ The teacher paused to check him on the seating plan. ‘You, Al? What’s your answer?’
‘The God of Life,’ Al answered, lowering his hand as he did.
Leorard smiled slightly. ‘Well done… Al,’ she said, as she wrote the answer on the board. ‘Do you know much about the Gods?’
‘Not at all. I learned that this morning.’
‘Well, that’s what these lessons are for. Keep up, you might learn something.’

~*~*~*~*~

Al’s recruitment had been, as far as Hari was concerned, an enormous success. He left seeming very interested, and now it was time to recruit the next kid. The next one on the list was called Frank. According to the profile he had been given, Frank lived in a mental institution. That couldn’t be good.
Wearing the strange Earth clothing, Hari approached the six year old Frank Galvini as he strapped down to the bed.
‘Who are you,’ moaned the boy. ‘I don’t know you. Are you a doctor?’
‘Hari looked down at him, pitying him. ‘I am not a doctor,’ he said quietly. ‘You need to trust me.’
Franky wanted the boy to go away, but a voice in the back of his head stopped Franky from yelling out. You can trust him, the voice said, over and over again. Franky decided he could trust him.
‘I can trust you, can’t I?’ the young boy whispered, his eyes wide. ‘I think I can trust you.’
‘You can trust me,’ Hari said. He smiled, partly trying to reassure the boy, partly because his telepathy had worked again.
‘What do you want?’ asked Franky.
Hari didn’t answer. He paused, and let a very long moment pass. ‘How did you wind up here?’ asked Franky.
‘I did a bad thing,’ Franky lamented. ‘I was standing next to a man I didn’t know and I burst, and now he’s really sick.’
Hari frowned. This wasn’t in the profile. ‘You… burst?’
‘Yes. The doctors don’t know what it is.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, I feel sleepy, then I get more and more excited, then I just sort of… burst.’
‘Do you have a video or something?’
Franky nodded at a draw, looking sadly at it. Hari walked over to it and withdraw a video from inside. He looked all over it, and pressed a button that played it. He had to point it at a wall to even receive an image. Hari really didn’t like Earth technology. They didn’t even have decent holograms.
The video played, showing Franky talking to a man. There wasn’t any sound, so he couldn’t tell what they were talking about. Then the boy looked like he was about to pass out, and then… he burst.’
Hari blinked, and rewound it a bit so he could watch the footage again. He could actually see a wave of raw energy erupt from the boy. Colours danced around the wave, with little flashes of light appearing in random places. The wave enveloped the man, smashing him to the floor. The footage ended.
‘You actually… burst,’ Hari muttered. ‘How did you DO that?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Franky sullenly. ‘I just do it sometimes.’
‘You know something?’ said Hari, spotting his advantage. ‘I come from a little company called YI.’
‘YI? The smart person thing?’
‘We don’t just take in smart people,’ said Hari, grinning. ‘We take in people who are really strong, or really poetic… or have a unique talent.’
‘Are you talking about my burst?’ said Franky, wide-eyed again.
‘I am,’ said Hari. ‘Maybe you would be interested in attending?’
‘Would I like to come?’ Hari looked around the room, and then down at the straps on the bed. ‘But the doctors wouldn’t let me come.’
‘I’ll arrange something,’ said Hari, triumphant that he was winning this now. ‘Do you want to come or not?’
Franky was silent for a second, then he nodded enthusiastically. ‘Yes, please.’
Hari pulled out a card and made to hand it to Franky, then when he realised that he was strapped down, he put it on the desk instead. ‘The first meeting is at 3:30 on Thursday,’ said Hari. ‘Address is on the card,’ he added as he left, having made another successful recruitment. Matt and Vityro would be so happy.

~*~*~*~*~

The rest of the History lesson had passed reasonably quickly. They had discussed in quite a lot of detail about the day the Myrano, the God of Fire, had died, and after one hour the lesson concluded and Al left to go to PE. It turned out that they had been split into two sets. Al was placed in bottom set. That was a little disappointing.
‘I don’t really mind,’ said Well, who had been placed in the lower set aswell, ‘because they say the most powerful muscle in the human body is the brain.’ He tapped his head meaningfully.
Al nodded, heavily agreeing with what he said. They were changing into a Thugby kit for a PE lesson which Al could only assume would be about Thugby. He knew that Thugby had been invented by the Anglo-Americano Empire in 2020, and that over 267 people had died playing it on Earth, and that was it entirely. Once everybody had changed, the boys met up with the girls on the large field on the east side of the Facility. The grass looked like it was especially trimmed for the occasion.
Al and Well were lightly jumping up and down, attempting to keep warm in the chilly breeze, when the PE teacher descended upon them.
‘ALRIGHT, LET’S GET STARTED!’ the teacher yelled, instantly destroying every conversation that was taking place in the small group. ‘One lap of the whole field, GO!’
The kids ran straight away, as if too much of the yelling voice would seriously injure them. Al and Well took off straight away, and when they were out of earshot of the teacher, Al made a beeline for Lowin, who was in the lower set aswell. ‘Hey,’ said Al, making Lowin’s head twist round. ‘You enjoying bottom set PE?’
‘Loving it,’ said Lowin, adjusting the Omnifact headphones in his ears as they turned a corner. ‘Are you much good at PE?’
‘None at all.’
‘Hi-five.’
Lowin and Al hi-fived each other as they made it around the second corner. This field was a lot bigger than they had first thought. It was then that Well joined in.
‘Haider,’ said Well. ‘Is anyone else getting muscle spasms?’
‘No,’ replied Lowin. ‘I don’t think that’s nor – Ow!’ he continued, interrupted by Well’s hand hitting his face. ‘What was that for?’
‘It wasn’t me,’ explained Well. ‘I get muscle spasms when I do strenuous exercise.’ He shot an arm out to the right and then fell over, got up and overtook them just to try and prove his point.
‘Is he always like this?’ asked Lowin, rubbing his nose.
‘He is who he is,’ explained Al as they rounded the third corner of the field. ‘I’ve known his for four or five years, I’ve never really met anyone like him. He’s special.’
‘Very special.’
‘Don’t mind him, he’s just… zany.’
‘Very zany.’
‘Stop that.’
They completed the lap, and then the coach said that he was unhappy with all manner of fighting, hi-fiving and falling over going on during the first lap so he sent them off to do a second with no break in between. The lesson continued this way for pretty much the whole lesson, and by the end none of them were feeling well enough to actually listen to the rules of Thugby. The fifteen minute break between PE and the next lesson was very welcome indeed.

~*~*~*~*~

Hari left the mental institution and made for an alley. When he was fairly sure nobody had followed him, he pulled out a Yeryerskah phone. He knew that Matt was probably hundreds of thousands of light-years away right now, so he had no idea how the phone actually worked. But nevertheless, he heard Matt pick up and answer.
	‘Mmmmhello?’ replied the voice on the other end of the phone, spoken in Yeryerskah.
	‘It’s Hari here,’ replied Hari, putting considerable emphasis on his own name.
‘Oh, hello. How’s the recruitment going?’
Hari smiled. ‘Great. I’ve already got two of them, and I hardly even needed to use any telepathy.’
Hari could hear the laughter on the other end of the line. ‘Excellent job! Vityro will be so pleased with us. You know how important he says this is.’
‘You know how important this is to ME,’ said Hari. ‘I’m sick of being stuck as an eleven year old. I should’ve turned twelve a few months ago.’
‘Of course, of course,’ replied Matt. ‘Just as soon as you recruit the other four. Who did you already recruit, by the way?’
‘The smart kid, Alan,’ said Hari, ‘and the psycho guy, Franky.’
‘Psycho guy?’
‘Yeah, he bursts.’
‘Bursts?’
‘You really need to see it to understand.’
Matt frowned. Vityro had told him that the kids he had chosen were unique in their abilities, but he hadn’t been very specific. Matt had never heard of this “burst”.
‘Well, I’m coming over in a few days,’ said Matt.
‘In the secret teleporter?’
‘Yes, the one that nobody is supposed to know about.’
‘OK. Bye now.’
‘See ya.’
Hari cut the connection and slipped the phone back into his pocket. Two more, four to go. If sending these children into a future where their entire lives were dedicated to the servitude of a God was what it took to cure his mind, then maybe it would be worth it.




~~~ CHAPTER FOUR ~~~


CURIOUS EDUCATION INDEED


THE SCHOOL DAY STARTED TO GET QUITE SERIOUSLY IRREGULAR BY THE TIME THEY REACHED THEIR “MATHS LESSON”, WHICH WAS ABOUT LEARNING HOW TO ESCAPE FROM BEING TIED TO A CHAIR.

Their teacher was the same man who had registered them in the morning, their Angle Leader, their tutor. He hadn’t actually spoken at all except to tell everyone to keep quiet, and left the speaking to a video tutorial. He had, however, put his four arms to good use, in tying the children up in various sinister looking knots.
Al had proved quite good at this. He had been the first to escape, closely followed by his new friend Lowin. Well, Psycho and Justine had at least managed to escape in the first twenty minutes of the activity. Others had been less successful.
‘Mach?’
‘Yeah?’
‘I got an idea.’
‘I’m listening.’
‘You chew my rope until I get out, and I’ll untie you.’
‘Mikki, that’s a terrible idea.’
‘I’ve been working on that idea for ten minutes, thanks.’
‘How about you chew ME out?’
‘How about no.’
‘Then we reach a stalemate.’
The other Earthlings looked down upon Mach and Mikki, pitying them.
‘I think we should show them the video again,’ said Psycho. He went over to the desk, (from which their unnamed teacher had abandoned a while ago to get a cup of coffee,) and clicked the replay button on the video. It returned to the beginning. Mikki, who had been furiously chewing on his own ropes, looked up to watch the video.
‘The thing about ropes,’ said the escapologist in the video, ‘is that ropes, though tight, are FLEXIBLE. By sliding forwards when you are tied up, you can give yourself a considerably larger amount of room to escape with.’
Franky hit the pause button, and looked up at the pair in the chairs patronisingly.
‘I don’t even see how this is Math related,’ mumbled Mikki. Mach tried to slide forwards in his chair.
‘You’re supposed to slide forwards BEFORE you get tied up,’ said Well, coming over to sit on his lap. ‘You’re trapped now,’ continued Well, stroking a hand down his neck. Mach bit at it viciously and Well recoiled. ‘Wow, sorry.’
After around five more minutes of this childish fun, their teacher returned to the room. He looked at them, and looked at Mach and Mikki and about six other children who had failed the task. He was silent for a second, as he usually was, and then spoke. ‘Class dismissed,’ he yelled, and returned to sit at his desk.
Well and Psycho left immediately. Mikki frowned. ‘Wait, how to we get out?’
The teacher didn’t react. Mikki frowned, and then started shuffling his chair out of the room, Mach and his chair along side him, desperately trying to keep up with the others in the marble halls.

~*~*~*~*~

The third and fourth kids on Hari’s special list knew each other, so getting them at the same time would save a lot of time. Their names were Will and Timmy – a musician and artist duo. Hari would be quite interested to see what they would be like as a pair.
	Hari knocked on Will’s door. After a few moments, Will’s father answered the knock. His eyebrows narrowed.
	‘What do you want?’ asked Mr. Mach bluntly.
	‘I work for a company called YI,’ said Hari. ‘I have some business cards if you want them.’
	Mr. Mach looked sceptical. ‘YOU work for a big company like that? You’re, what, eleven, twelve?’
	Hari had a response prepared for that one. ‘If you let me in, maybe your son could be working for a big company like that too. We’re quite interested in young talent, you know.’
	Mr. Mach’s face was expressionless now. ‘Do you have a business card?’
	Hari’s hand dived into his pocket and grabbed a business card. He thrust it at Mr. Mach.
	‘It’s hologrammic,’ said Hari. ‘They don’t come cheap.’
Mr. Mach seemed convinced. ‘OK, you can come in,’ he said. Mr. Mach led Hari into the living room, where Will was playing on an electronic keyboard with Timmy.
‘And if you press these three together you make a happy major sound…’ Will halted his lessons, seeing his father with the strange visitor. ‘Daddy, who’s this?’
‘This is…’ Mr. Mach looked around at the strange boy, realising he hadn’t even provided a name.
‘Uh, call me Hari,’ said Hari. He was getting quite used to going by this pseudonym; he hoped he was done soon, though. He felt that his real name was much better. ‘Hari Twibbet,’ he mumbled to himself. Twibbet sounded funny. It didn’t match the first name.
‘Okay,’ said Mr. Mach. He turned back to his son. ‘Mr. Twibbet here wants to talk to you about a job.’
Will frowned. ‘But I have a job. I do music.’
‘Well, then, this is a better one,’ said Mr. Mach. ‘With this one, you’ll be famous and make more money.’ He turned to Hari, who nodded in confirmation.
Will nodded enthusiastically. ‘Yes, please.’
Mr. Mach clapped happily. ‘Well, that’s that,’ he said. ‘When do we show up?’
‘3:30 on Tuesday,’ answered Hari. ‘Address is on the card.’
Mr. Mach squinted at the card and seemed satisfied. ‘Fair enough. Thank you for your time, Mr. Twibbet,’ he said, gesturing to his front door. But Hari didn’t want to leave yet.
‘Wait a second,’ he said, focusing his attention on the boy Timmy. ‘Would he like to come to? It’s that kind of talent we’re looking for, after all.’
The boy Timmy looked up at Hari, then at Will, then at Mr. Mach. ‘Am I allowed?’ he asked cautiously.
‘Well I’ll phone your parents,’ replied Mr. Mach, ‘and we’ll see if it’s alright.’ He focused on Hari again. ‘Is he allowed to just turn up if he likes?’
‘Yeah, we’re not keen on paperwork,’ said Hari. He personally hated paper. Pointless non-electronic junk. ‘I’ll tell the security guys that you might be coming, then they won’t beat you up or something if you try and get in.’
The pair of six year olds suddenly looked anxious, but Mr. Mach reassured them. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, ‘I’m sure Mr. Twibbet here is kidding.’
Hari gave a forced laugh. ‘Of course, of course. Well, I must be on my way now. Goodbye, people.’ The two children waved at him as he left their house, and then returned to the keyboard.

~*~*~*~*~

The fourth lesson of the day was Aura Studies. From what Al could tell from a girl named Darl, whom Al sat next to, this was going to be fun, practical lesson. Mikki and Mach, who were still actually tied to their chairs, had other things on their minds.
‘He called it a freaking TACTICS lesson,’ yelled Mikki, who had slipped into one of his well known rages. ‘The time table said MATH. He was supposed to TEACH us, but he left it to a freaking VIDEO. I mean, all I did the whole lesson was get tied to a chair, and he didn’t even bother to release me once we left. How is tying us to a chair in any way mathematical? He should’ve stuck to the normal schools. If he didn’t have four arms, I’d show him who’s who.’
Nobody was listening to him anymore, though. Mach had got fairly used to being tied to his chair. The shuffle half-way across the Facility to the new and modern Soul Block that they were in now was quite fun, actually. In his opinion, anyway. After quite a long time the teacher arrived, carrying a bag with her.
‘Settle down, settle down,’ she said in a wispy voice, walking briskly into the room. She placed the bag behind her desk and sat on a chair. She registered them, and then began the lesson.
‘Aura,’ she began, ‘is one of the most important things you will learn here, which is why it is so important to pay attention in these lessons.’ She pressed a panel on the wall, and a touch screen board appeared. Huh.
‘Aura is the life-force that drives us,’ continued the teacher. ‘When the God of Life created us, he powered us, our emotions, and our minds, with raw aura. Aura is its most basic form.’ She wrote “raw” on the board, both in Yeryerskah and English. She turned back to the class. ‘There are four other forms that aura takes. By focusing your mind on one separate area of your consciousness, you can learn to influence these forms. Can anybody name them?’
A good number of hands shot in the air. The teacher pointed one of them out, and Al saw that it was Nara. Again. She was a smart one.
‘Thermal energy,’ she answered. The teacher nodded, and wrote it under both lists on the board. ‘Thermal energy, better known as heat, is the easiest to manipulate. You can learn control heat by focusing on your sense of pride. We’ll practise some of these later. Next aura form, anyone?’
More hands. The teacher picked out one at the back, which belonged to the girl named Guibian. ‘Mechanical energy,’ she answered.
‘Good, good,’ the teacher said, writing it up on the board. ‘Mechanical energy covers such areas as movement, sound, et cetera,’ she explained, making strange hand gestures to demonstrate what movement looks like. ‘The area associated with it is understanding, realisation, so the better you understand this topic, the easier you will find it. Mechanical is actually the hardest to control, but once you get it right, you could find it endlessly useful.’ She turned around the class, and raised her hands, beckoning them to find the third of the aura forms. Fewer hands were up now. She chose Darl, the girl that Al was sat next to.
‘Light,’ she answered. The teacher put on a sort of so-so face.
‘Kind of,’ the teacher said. ‘Light is actually a form of electromagnetic energy.’ She wrote this on the board. ‘Electromagnetic covers electricity and magnetism, obviously, but it also covers such things as visible light, radiation, and microwaves.’
Well said something to Franky that made him plant his face in his desk laughing, but Al couldn’t hear what it was. The teacher looked sharply in their direction, and they tried to look innocent.
‘I suppose you know what the final aura form is?’ she asked rhetorically. Well’s shoulders sagged. He looked pleadingly at Franky.
‘Uhhh…’ said Franky. ‘Um, is it fire?’
The teacher blinked. ‘That was a lucky guess.’ She returned to the board and wrote “chemical energy” on the board. ‘Chemical energy is the most difficult form to control. It is associated with anger and rage, but it must be controlled to work. Very few people in the universe are gifted enough to get this to work. When they do, they can create combustion, which is good for magic shows and such.’
She pulled something that looked like a flat metal box with a hole through one side. ‘This is a glove designed to display your aura,’ she explained. ‘You place it on your hand as such,’ – she placed the glove on her hand – ‘and then you just focus your aura.’ She seemed to stand perfectly still, but then Al noticed the colours dancing on her glove. The same dancing colours and flashes that had appeared in the old teleporter. He frowned when he realised that none of these colours had appeared in any of the other teleporters. Maybe the old one had a leaked.
The teacher let her focus drop and the dancing colours dispersed. She picked up her bag and started handing out identical metal gloves to the classmates. ‘Try and make the sparks yourselves,’ she said. ‘To use it, you just need to find the quiet place in your mind. Block everything out, put emotions to one side, let nothing exist but your own mind. And you will succeed.’
 Al rubbed his hands together. He loved a new challenge.
‘Have you ever used these before?’ asked Darl to him.
Al looked surprised to have been spoken to. ‘No,’ he answered. ‘But yesterday I used something called an Aura Powered Electronic Laser. Is that similar?’
Darl nodded. ‘It’s like this, only much harder to use.’
Al blinked and picked up the metal glove that the teacher had left on his desk. He stuck his hand through it and wriggled his finger on the other end, strapped it on firmly, closed his eyes and concentrated. He visualised his quiet place, a small dark room in his head, with nothing but his own mind inside. He felt the quietness of it, the feeling of there being nothing in this universe except himself. Then he realised that with his eyes closed he would have no idea if it was working, so he opened his them.
There was raw aura dancing around on the palm of the glove, emitting strange sounds, switching temperatures eccentrically, but the colours were so much BRIGHTER than in the teacher’s demonstration. The white noise was louder, and the random flashes looked like miniature explosions. Al grinned, and realised how easy it was. He didn’t have to screw up his eyes in concentration. He just had to think, to put his emotions to one side, and he KNEW he was good at that. When he was just three, he had had a full brain examination. The doctor’s discovered, among other interesting things, that the sections of brain in Al’s brain dedicated to logical thinking and memory took up half of the space where emotions SHOULD have been dealt with. The doctors described this as “autism of an immeasurable degree”. Before now, it had just felt like the reason why Al was so bright. Now, he realised how much more important it could be.
‘Al!’
Al was pulled out of his loose thoughts by Darl, who had got her glove working.
‘It’s so easy when you know how,’ she said, grinning.
Al got off of his chair and walked around the class to see how many more people had achieved it. Lyle, Sashah and Guibian had done it. Nara had finished ages ago and got bored, so she had got the “extension” work – a glove that converted her aura into electromagnetic energy first, instead of emitting it raw. She was now holding her glove in the air sending electric sparks through the room. Psycho and Well were having less luck.
	‘I tried it just now,’ said Psycho miserably, ‘and I felt like I might burst.’
	‘Burst as in not actually burst,’ said Al cautiously, ‘or burst as in, the actual “burst”?’
	‘A bit of both.’
‘What about him?’ asked Al, pointing to Well, who appeared to be so bored with the activity that he was trying to take a nap.
‘I dunno, he’s been like that for a while,’ answered Psycho. ‘I think he’s asleep or in a coma or dead or something.’
‘Probably dead,’ said Al, looked at Well’s slumped form. He stared at it for a while, then kicked Well’s chair in the leg and knocked it to the floor, taking Well with it. ‘There, he’s out of the way. Try the glove now.’
Psycho looked down at Well on the floor and shrugged. He put his hand out in front of him and concentrated hard, putting him emotions to one side. It started to work. Then it started to go horribly wrong
‘Franky?’ asked Al nervously. Psycho’s head was starting to droop, and Al knew what that meant. He stepped away as Psycho’s head began jerking unnaturally. Then he burst.
His arms flew outwards as the dancing colours known as raw aura exploded out of his body. It channelled down his arms and legs and spurted out of his face. The classmates all huddled away from him as he lost his grip on the floor and started rolling about, trying desperately to grab a hold of the situation. And then the coloured stopped, and Psycho stopped moving, and he fell asleep.
Murmurs started all around the room as Al picked Psycho off of the floor and dropped him back into his seat. ‘He’ll be fine,’ Al yelled to the anxious crowd of children. He looked towards the teacher, who was stood a good distance behind her desk. ‘Miss, what do you know about the “burst”?’ he asked her over the steady murmurs of the crowd.
The teacher cleared her throat. ‘If I could have your attention, please, class?’ The murmurs stopped, kind of.
‘Everybody sit back down, I’ll explain what happened.
Everybody sat back down.
‘This boy,’ the teacher started, looking at Al, who whispered the name “Psycho”. ‘This boy, Psycho, has a very, very rare gift called the “burst”. It’s kind of like the stigmata. Actually, never mind, it’s nothing like the stigmata.’ The teacher pulled at her collar. ‘At points of very high stress or aura exposure, people with the “burst” have a spell of uncontrollable raw aura release. There is, unfortunately, no known cure, so this may happen time to time.’
Al looked over at Psycho, who was lying back asleep on his chair, exhausted from the aura burst. Next to him was the tipped over chair where Well was lying on the floor, and he was waking up.’
‘Mmmm,’ he said meaningfully, his eyes blinking into focus. ‘I had that white dream again. What did I miss?’ He looked upwards to Psycho’s chair where Psycho was lying asleep. Well frowned. ‘Did he burst again?’
Al nodded.
‘What is he like,’ Well murmured to himself. He put his chair back upright at sat down on it like nothing had ever happened.

~*~*~*~*~

It was lunch break, and the children of Angle L were using Room C-4 as their own little social club. Their unnamed tutor was nowhere to be seen, probably in the staff room getting more coffee. Al, Well, Mikki, Mach and Justine were huddled in their own corner of the room, talking about their recent experience.
‘To summarise,’ said Al, ‘we were told for five years that we were joining YI, and that we would reach get to go to outer space, and we were never told what that meant, and yesterday we were pulled off into outer space, and some bloody politician decides he wants to kill us for it.’
‘Now that’s what I call a real politician,’ said Mach. Everyone ignored him.
‘And then I shot it down with a lightning ray, and we landed on the moon, and teleported millions of light-years away, and we learned about Gods and aura and how to escape for being tied to a chair,’ concluded Al. He looked over at Mikki and Mach, who had only been freed from their chairs at the end of Aura Studies. ‘Well, some of us did.’
‘A most curious education,’ said Well.
‘A most curious education indeed.’
Conversations in the room were interrupted by Psycho Franky bursting into the room. ‘Everybody shut the hell up,’ he yelled, storming straight over to Al. ‘This is incredible,’ he said, genuine glee in his voice. He slammed a dictionary straight onto the table where Al’s sandwich had been, and pointed to two different words. ‘I have just found a word that rhymes with “orange”.’
Al stared down at the dictionary, looking at the Romanisation of the Yeryerskah words. They did rhyme, but…
‘Psycho,’ said Al calmly, ‘this is a different language. The rules are different. You need to find an English word for that.’
Psycho frowned, picked up the dictionary, wiped off the remains of Al’s sandwich and left the room, completely oblivious to the sniggers around the room.
‘What’s up with him?’ asked Justine.
‘Ah, he’s always like that after a burst,’ said Well. ‘His emotions need a little settling down.’
‘The next question is,’ said Mikki. ‘What do we do now? Are we just going to go along with this big God’s plans? I mean, this is practically a kidnapping.’
‘I think we should just go along with it,’ said Al. ‘It might be worth it, learning how to use aura and things.’
‘But they KIDNAPPED us,’ yelled Mikki. ‘I don’t know about you, but I have FAMILY back on Earth. Friends, possessions, the kind of sentimentality that you don’t understand. They can’t force us to stay here!’
Al rubbed his temples, pondering the problem. ‘What do they care?’ he said. ‘To them, we’re just the pawns of some big game. A game so big that they refuse to tell us what it’s all about. So guess what? Our matters are nothing compared to theirs.’ He returned to what was left of his lunch, realising that nobody left in the Earthling huddle was talking anymore.

~*~*~*~*~

Hari showed the security guard his VIP pass and entered the sports centre, where Abby Pascal and Justine Jenner were playing.
Though they weren’t exactly playing like most children do. They were only six, and were already very talented at basketball, netball and webball. Webball being the game they were playing right now. It was pretty much the same as basketball except there were no fouls and physical contact was permitted.
Hari watched as the game went on. Abby and Justine formed one side, five eleven year olds formed the other. Eleven year olds like me, thought Hari. He watched as they charged forwards towards the ball. Justine sped right around them and positioned behind them. Abby waited for the opposing team to approach. Once the first player touched his hand on the ball, Abby charged in and grabbed hold of the ball, run straight through the player and slid down. The players toppled like bowling pins and Abby slid right under them, and then passed it to Justine, who shot it straight into the basket.
Hari raised his eyebrows in surprise. They were a good pair.
After the match, in which the opposing team had been left in exasperated tears, Hari approached them. They weren’t even out of breath.
‘Hey there, little girls,’ said Hari.
Justine shrank away. Abby didn’t. Hari thought that maybe he could’ve chosen a better opening.
‘I come from a company called the Yeryerskah Initiative,’ said Hari.
Abby looked up in realisation. ‘Oh, like what Franky is doing?’
Hari hesitated. ‘You know Franky?’
Justine spoke. ‘We both know Franky. We’re not allowed to see him anymore though. Could we speak to him?’
Hari grinned. This was going so much better than he had planned.
‘Sure, sure,’ said Hari. ‘All you need to do is join YI. We’re looking for children with talent like you. Are you interested?’
Both girls nodded in unison.
‘Excellent,’ said Hari, grinning. He pulled two of his cards of his pocket and handed it to them. ‘The first meeting is 3:30 on Tuesday, OK?’ he said as he left the room.
Once he had left the building, he turned into an alleyway and pulled out his phone. He rang Matt. Matt answered.
‘Mmmmhello?’ replied the Yeryerskah voice.
‘It’s done,’ said Hari, his delight obvious. ‘I’ve got them all. All six. They’re going to come. I didn’t even need to use telepathy on Justine and Abby.’
Matt laughed deeply. ‘Well done, boy. Vityro will be overjoyed. I’ll be over as soon as possible, and after the first meeting, I’ll personally escort you to him, and we’ll get your age fixed. OK?’
Hari was thrilled at the prospect of finally being fixed. ‘Yes, thank you so much.’ He hung up, then stuffed the phone in his pocket, then bounced on his tiptoes, then did a back flip and ran through the street laughing, in the hope that somebody told him to grow up.

~*~*~*~*~

The final lesson of the day was Yeryerskah, in which they were taught the language of the planet they were on. Al didn’t quite understand why the children who already spoke the language were in this class aswell, though. Perhaps they were learning grammar or spelling. Al didn’t care, as he had got bored of the lesson by the time that they had gone over the numbers one to ten THREE times. How long did it take for people to learn things? Al had slumped down in his seat, reading the Yeryerskah dictionary that Psycho had had, memorising as many words as he could. It was much more productive that this lesson.
As he browsed the alien words, a thought occurred to him. The conversation from earlier, between Matt and Mr. Mort. Matt had refused to translate for them, meaning that he wasn’t supposed to know, meaning that he was now very curious. Al, being Al, had memorised every word spoken. He flicked to the back of his workbook and wrote down what he remembered.

LERV SKAND BERF ASKOISH ART IEV HAIK SISPIBAIR.
AIM SKOI BERF OACH BERNF?
OONKSPOO SIEM INT WITH ASKOI. LERD INT EEF ERLAIM.
GAINF, MORT.
ERL EACH EESH ESKIV MORT ART ASKAND, MATT
GAINF, ESKIV MORT.
SIEMMEENG IEV SENGPAITEH, MATT.
GAINF, ESKIV MORT. OONFIEV, ESKIV MORT.
OITEET. ECH INT.

Al was fairly sure that was the exact conversation. His incredible memory had only let him down once before, and that was just because he had been hit by a Mindnuke. Now that the conversation was on paper, he flipped the dictionary and began deciphering the sentences one by one, word by word. After around five minutes of work, he was finished.
YOU MUST TAKE THEM TO THE MIND SPEEDER.
WHY?
DO NOT ARGUE WITH ME. GET IT DONE.
YES, MORT.
THAT’S MR. MORT TO YOU, MATT.
YES, MR. MORT.
WITHOUT THE ATTITUDE, MATT.
YES, MR. MORT. SORRY, MR. MORT.
BETTER. GO.

Al stared at what he had written down for a while, and then turned to Psycho, who was sitting next to him. ‘Psycho?’
‘Yeah?’
‘You remember the alien conversation between Matt and Mr. Mort?’
‘Ah, yes. I had no idea what was going on.’
‘I do.’
‘What?’
Al slipped Psycho his book, with the translated conversation. Psycho read it, and then reread it a few times. Then he spoke.
‘Mind speeder?’
‘That must mean the mind acceleration we went through.’
‘Mr. Mort sounds a bit lethal.’
‘He’s the only person here who calls themselves a Mr.’
‘We should watch out for him.’
‘We should.’
‘Are you two talking in my lesson?’
Both children snapped their heads up to see their language teacher looking sternly in their direction.
‘Maybe,’ said Psycho weakly.
The teacher’s expression turned fowl. ‘Do you want me to report you to Mr. Mort?’
‘No,’ they both said in unison without hesitation.
‘OK, but if you speak up again, you’ll be spending your evening with him.’
After the teacher turned back around, Al and Psycho gulped. They were right. Mr. Mort was definitely not the kind of person Al wanted to cross, and the only way to keep on his good side was to follow his instructions. Al frowned. Our matters REALLY don’t matter to him now, he thought, as he returned to trying to learn from the dreary lesson.




~~~ CHAPTER FIVE ~~~


THE CROWN OF FLAMES


GLAR THE DEFIBRILLATED MADE GOOD USE OF THE FACT THAT HE COULD TEMPORARILY DIE WHENEVER HE WANTED TO.

He had first discovered his unique skill five years ago now, and a few weeks ago his talent came to the attention of a man named Simon Trench. Simon Trench the Ninth, the entrepreneur who owned the largest business territory on Earth. The man whose immense wealth and talents bought him a job in the government. The Earthling whose economical empire stretched further than Earth itself.
Outside of the little planet, Simon Trench IX had called himself STIX. He said it was based on the initials of his name. Glar thought it was a stupid name. He wouldn’t ever, EVER say that to his face, though.
And what was STIX up to right now? Collecting. He had heard rumours that in the Museum of Divine History, on Yeryersk, there was a statue of the God of Fire. But he had also heard that on the head of this statue was Myrano’s crown. Not just a replica, but the REAL thing. The hat of a God. Which is why STIX had employed Glar to acquire it for him. Glar was one of the stealthiest men alive. His last known appearance had been at the scene of Liaguo’s downfall – the place where the God of Water lost his medallion. A few days later, Glar had made an extortionate amount of money, selling a “replica” of the medallion. Glar was a man who had stolen the symbol of a God, and then made money off of it. Just the kind of man that STIX needed to get a hold of the crown. But just a few weeks after STIX had introduced Glar to his workforce, Glar had died. Then a few moments later, he came back. He had gone to Vityro for an answer, who knew what it was. Glar was a Life-Flipper, a man with a genetic disorder of the soul. The disorder was hereditary and had probably existed in Glar’s father aswell, but to work, it needed to be triggered. The spark that had set off Glar’s disorder had been the exact moment that Glar had been narrowly missed by Vityro, when he blew Liaguo’s face off. The shock of the God-level attack had made him feel weaker and weaker, and by the time he had reached his home that night he had died. The next day, doctors had resuscitated him with a defibrillator. From then on, Glar had experienced moments where he simply ceased to live, only to return to life moments later. It was known as Life-Flipping.
And now Glar was in the capital of Yeryersk, Universe City, dressed head to foot in black, about to break into a quite innocent museum. He analysed the night watchman, and noticed that he had a blue tongue. Either he had lead poisoning or he was from the planet Bamintz. Glar recalled all he knew about that species of person. They had nerve endings right in their elbows, and one pinch would knock them out. That was what he had to do. Or did he? He seriously wondered if this made him a bad person. Does knowing that you’re doing something that’s bad make you good? Probably not. The fact that Glar was just doing this for another extortionate amount of money probably wasn’t good either. Glar snapped out of moral dilemma when he noticed the night watchman try and pour himself another mug of coffee and realise he’d run out. This was his chance.
‘Hello, my fine watchman,’ said Glar, walking up the watchman with his hands in his pockets. ‘Got any coffee?’
The watchman stared at him cautiously. ‘What do you want?’
Glar laughed. ‘I just said, I want a mug of coffee.’
‘I haven’t got any coffee left.’
‘Aww.’
‘What do you REALLY want then?’
‘Well, I’d like you to let me in to this museum.’
‘What?’
‘Is there a problem with that?’
‘Yes there is!’
Glar shrugged and pinched at the man’s elbow before he could even react. The watchman fell to the ground slowly like a tree that had been cut down. Glar searched his body and quickly found a key card attached around his neck. He ripped it off a bit too violently and pushed it into the scanner on the back door of the museum. It was accepted. Glar was in.
He had been over every area of this museum earlier that day but seeing it at night was so different. The low red lights illuminated the beige features of the museum in a sinister way. The exhibits from history seemed all too real in the eerie ambience as Glar slipped from room to room, using his key card so that he didn’t accidentally alert the entire city to his presence. Once he reached the centre of the museum, he saw it. Unfortunately, that was as close as he was going to get. The room with the statue had the doors sealed with metal doors, each one with a keypad by the side. Glar supposed he could break through the windows but he wouldn’t want to set off the alarms. He wondered if the watchman knew the code. He slipped back out of the doors he came through and back his way back to the back door, where the security guard was still lying there. He placed his hand on his chest, and closed his eyes. Then he died.
	He awoke in the afterlife, completely used to this experience. He made himself a body nice and quick and found the watchman lying next to him. Glar slapped him a few times to wake him up.
‘Am I in heaven?’ said the watchman sleepily.
‘Yes,’ said Glar bluntly, standing up straight. ‘I am God.’
The watchman blinked. ‘Really?’
‘Yes, really.’
‘Am I dead?’
‘You are, for now.
‘What do you mean?’
Glar smiled. People were always so gullible after they died. ‘You must tell me the security code to the room with the Myrano statue in the Museum of Divine History.’
‘Why?’
‘That is not yours to know.’
The watchman thought hard. ‘That’s the room that got broken into ages ago, when I worked as a watchman.’
‘Indeed. You need to tell me the code, now.’
‘OK, OK…’ The watchman looked Glar right in the eye. ‘If I tell you, can I please go back?’
‘Sure thing.’
‘OK… the code is 2769.’
Glar smiled. ‘Thank you.’
And then he forced himself to return to reality, and woke up beside the security guard, as if it were all a dream.
He repeated the code in his mind before it escaped. 2769, 2769, 2469, 2469, 2469, he thought. Things were often hard to remember right after slipping into the afterlife. 2469, 2469, 2469.
He got up and returned to the museum. His power was a curious one, as the afterlife’s timeline worked very differently to the rest of the universe’s. When a person died, they would be reborn in the afterlife at the beginning of time. When you reached the afterlife, you went there with every single being that ever lived, whether they died before you or after you. It was this that let Glar speak to anybody in the afterlife, whether they were actually dead or not.
Glar reached the keypad. 2469, 2469, 2469, he thought hastily. He pressed the 2 button, then the 4 –
Then all hell broke loose. The sinister red ambience in the hallways started flashing blue, sirens sounded, doors sealed themselves. He had messed up the code. He had alerted security. And he was locked in. But he still had a job to do. Seeing no reason to act as subtle anymore, he dived straight through the wide glass window and into the room with the statue. Not caring much about Divine History, he clambered upon the statue and snatched the crown off of its head. Ever since Myrano’s death, his fire crown had not burned as vividly as it had once done. The flames were little more than tiny trickles of red and orange leaking off of the top. But there were still there. Glar decided to hold it by the non-burning part.
He could now here voices shouting from various areas of the museum. Glar smiled. Now he got to leave the FUN way. He grinned, ready to take on the awaiting challenge.

~*~*~*~*~

The following week of classes for Al had passed amazingly quickly. He found Tactics very easy, along with two other lessons: Universal Education, which was pretty much just like Science; and Shuttle Mechanics, which was most programming. Al was skilled at both of these things, anyway. He was also doing quite well in Yeryerskah, in which he was learning the entire language page by page of the dictionary, and Aura Studies, in which he had mastered Sparking without the use of a glove. It took immense concentration, but it was possible. He had a long way to go before he was blowing doors open, though.
There were three lessons he found rather curious. Disguise and Role-play, in which children were taught how to blend into crowds and pretend to be others, and Telepathy, where they were NOT taught to read minds, as the Earthlings had assumed, but where the staff attempted to teach children to influence other people’s minds. Apparently, the word had a much broader meaning than they known. The only person who had had any degree of success was Mach, who said he’d been able to do it for a while anyway.
The week was over now, and Al had discovered that on Yeryersk weeks only lasted for six days, the weekends being one day long. As much as he was disappointed at the time, he found himself bored when the time actually came. Luckily, Psycho had invited him over to his place for the weekend, along with Lyle and Mikki, as they lived close by. Upon arrival to the country village of Gazip, Al, Lyle and Mikki had made their way to Psycho’s apartment. It had turned out, however, that he did not live in an apartment like the rest of them, though. Instead, he lived in a large country manor. Upon their arrival, Psycho had burst out to greet them through the large twin front doors. “Appeared” burst, that is, not “burst”, burst.
‘Welcome to my domain,’ greeted Psycho, grinning.
‘How…’ said Mikki. ‘I live in a FLAT.’
‘Strange, isn’t it?’ He beckoned for the scruffy city dwellers to follow him into his lovely home. ‘I don’t know why I got this house. Maybe I was lucky.’
He led them inside and left them in the living room to get acquainted with the sofa while Psycho made some drinks.
‘So,’ said Al to the other two, ‘do either of you have sofas in your apartments?’
‘No.’
‘No.’
‘Me neither,’ said Al. ‘What about fancy curtains?’
‘No.’
‘No.’
‘Carpet?’
‘No.’
‘No.’
‘Just about anything in this room?’
‘No.’
‘I have a light switch.’
‘Apart from that?’
‘No.’
Psycho returned to the room holding a tray with four glasses of lemonade, which he offered to each of them. He sank into an armchair opposite the sofa. ‘So,’ he began, ‘let’s talk.’
‘Can I take some of your furniture home?’ asked Mikki innocently.
‘Let’s talk about something else.’
‘Aw, OK. Couldn’t Tiner make?’
Lyle frowned. ‘Why would Tiner come?’
Mikki shrugged. ‘Well, he lives in Muchly too, I don’t see why not.’
‘You lot seem to be dealing with all this well,’ said Lyle.
Al put his cup down. ‘What?’
‘Well, you’ve just been introduced to a whole new universe you never knew about, right?’
Al stopped and thought about it. He noticed that the impact of everything that had happened so far hadn’t hit him yet.
‘Well, I suppose I knew it deep down,’ answered Al. Deep down probably being the area of his memory that was still locked away from him.
Lyle shrugged and sipped some of her lemonade. Mikki was about to say something when Psycho’s TV turned itself on.
‘This house has everything,’ mumbled Mikki.
‘Breaking news!’ said the synthesised news reporter. ‘The Museum of Divine History has been broken into while a security watchman was sleeping. Police inform us that the infiltrator is one Glar the Defibrillated, a man who – ’
Psycho turned the TV off.
‘I hate that thing,’ he muttered. ‘It always turns itself on when it wants to.’ He got up and went to a cupboard.
‘Anybody want some biscuits?’

~*~*~*~*~

Most people would’ve found the wailing sirens somewhat distracting, but Glar was better than that. He could listen through the chaos, hearing orders, being able to the angles that people were coming from. None of them were very close to him yet, but he threw the crown to his left hand and pulled out a handgun with his right hand anyway. He dived straight through the broken glass window, and then thought to himself that he could’ve just stepped through it. That wouldn’t have been as fun, though. He looked for more windows to dive through, but he was locked in the room, and he couldn’t dive through walls OR metal doors. Damn.
He reached to his belt and pulled out a fun little cylindrical energy bomb that he happened to be carried. He twisted the front end to “Chemical”, and twisted the other end as far as it would go, and then realised how small the corridor was and twisted it back a little. Then he pushed both ends at the same time, dropped it by the metal door and ran to the other side of the room. He waited for a second. Then another. Then –

BOOM

said the bomb as it completely destroyed the entire wall and a very large portion of the ceiling, leaving a pile of flaming debris in its wake. Glar wondered if he probably should’ve used a smaller setting, but he dismissed the thought. He clambered over the debris, escaping to the next room. Then he realised that the next door was locked too, and he had run out of bombs. Damn. Again.
It was just then that a policeman unlocked the door and entered the room, pointing a rifle in his face. Glar was so surprised that he shot the man straight in the face without even realising that he’d done it. The man tumbled to the ground like a puppet that had had its strings cut and also been shot in the face. Glar stared at him, and then stared at the gun, realising that he felt absolutely no regret whatsoever. That definitely wasn’t a good sign, he thought, as he threw away his minimal key card and took the override key card that the policeman had. He continued through the doors, surprised at how easily he was avoiding further fights, and how stupid these policemen must be. And once he reached the main foyer, ten men with rifles were waiting for him.
Damn, for the third time this night.
He dived behind the door he had come through, hoping that the walls could cope with close range bullets better than they coped with bombs. He waited a few moments for the first man to try and go through the door to attack him, and Glar shot him in the side of the head. The guard’s body dropped onto Glar, who picked it up and threw it out of the door, providing enough distraction to shoot the two nearest men in quick succession. He crouched behind the door again, listening to the gunfire and the roar of flames from the room a while away. He waited until the men had stopped firing before he very quickly went around the door again, shooting one guard, and then trying to shoot one more, but running out of bullets. He threw the gun at his head instead, and dived behind the wall again, grabbing a rifle that one of the men had dropped. He managed to shoot yet another three men before that rifle ran out of ammo too, and there were still three of them left.
The roar of fire was closer now, and Glar was looking over his suit quickly. He suddenly remembered the three ninja stars he had brought with him, just as a last resort. Three ninja stars, three men. This could only go well.
Glar slid his torso out from the wall and flung one of the stars straight at the neck of the nearest man, who fell to the ground immediately. He dived back behind the wall before he was shot, and repeated the process once more, striking the penultimate guard in the face. He dived behind the wall again, praying to himself, and went around the wall again. He threw the star right at the man’s head.
The star whizzed through the air, and the man put up his gun to protect him, and the star pierced his left hand. Glar immediately jumped out to try and knock the man out before he could react, but then he did. The man ignored the pain in his hand and pulled the gun up, aiming at Glar’s head. Glar froze.
He thought something a lot worse than “damn” this time.
Then, with no warning at all, the ceiling began to collapse. The first and largest portion of debris landed on the final man, crushing him. Glar allowed himself a grin, and then was narrowly missed by more flaming debris and the grin vanished. He sprinted for the front door, swerving out of the way of burning sections of ceiling, and had nearly made it when a rather heavy piece of debris crushed his left leg. He screamed out in pain and dropped the crown, which slid over to the door. Glar pulled his leg free of the debris, trying to pull himself upright, when the arch above the door starting burning. He ran to grab it, and nearly grabbed it when the flaming arch fell upon the crown.
The flames engulfed the crown, surrounding it by flames. Glar grabbed it anyway, barely noticing how hot it was, and waved it in the air, trying to get the flames away in the only way he could think of. Strangely, the flames vanished straight away, although the points of the crown still burned, more viciously than they ever had before. Glar dismissed the observation, realising he had more pressing matters than the appearance of a crown. He grabbed it by the non-burning part and tried to sprint out of the door, and then remembered about the crushed leg and yelled in pain. He hopped out of the museum and heard gunshots and crouched instinctively, and hopped out onto a field. He looked around him, seeing the open fields to his right, and hobbled out, running as fast as he was able, fleeing into the night.

~*~*~*~*~

Psycho returned to the three guests on the sofa holding orange chocolate biscuits.
‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘but they were all I could find.’
Al and Lyle turned them away disgustedly. Mikki shrugged and grabbed six of them. He ate three of them in one bite, and then held the other three in his right hand, staring at them meaningfully. Then he started juggling them, and he giggled. Then he stopped, suddenly remembering something.
‘Mmmm!’ he said, popping the other three into his mouth as he reached into his large pocket. He searched around for a bit, and pulled out one of the aura gloves from the Facility.
‘Mikki,’ said Al, ‘why do you have that?’
‘I forgot to put it back,’ said Mikki. ‘But look at this.’ He pointed to a dial at the back of the glove, which had five settings. Al took the glove and read the symbols, searching through the words he had learned in his head for some kind of meaning.
‘It’s a variable aura glove,’ decided Al. ‘Right?’
‘Yeah, that sounds right, probably.’
Al slipped the glove on and set the dial to the setting labelled “Raw”. He strapped it on a let his mind slow down, set emotions to one side. He found his quiet place, which he now visualised as containing two armchairs and a bookcase. The glove began Sparking, like it always did in Aura Studies when he tried.
Mikki frowned. ‘It usually takes me ages to do that,’ he said.
Not letting his focus drop, Al switched the setting to “Thermal”. Now, instead of setting his emotions to one side, he just focused on the feelings of pride and satisfaction, as they had been taught in their lessons. Quite quickly the glove started to heat up, but Al’s hand was insulated. He felt the glove with his other hand, but then withdrew it sharply, as the metal surface had burned it.
‘Ow,’ he said, waving it in the air.
‘Slick,’ said Psycho. He reached over and switched it to the “Electromagnetic” setting. ‘Try that.’
Al shrugged and focused on his happiness and joy, but nothing was happening. He sighed. He wasn’t very good at this one.
Psycho grinned. ‘Great job. Let me try now.’
Al undid the latch on the glove and handed it to Psycho, who put it on straight away. Psycho cleared his throat for some reason and found his quiet place, being very careful to avoid crashing into a place that would trigger a burst. He remembered what he had read in the workbook that he had taken from Aura Studies, and instead of focusing on his happiness, he focused on his misery. Almost immediately he felt it take effect.
‘Al?’
‘Hm?’
‘Go into my store cupboard and fetch me my compass.’
‘Where’s that?’
‘Opposite the bubble bath.’
Mikki tutted as Al got up and went to the store cupboard. He was confronted with a whole selection of draws, but right on top was a compass used for orienteering. He snatched it and twisted it around to check that it worked, and then went back to Psycho. Al handed the compass to him.
‘Thanks, you’re a darling,’ said Psycho, not losing his focus. He placed the compass on the glove for just a second and then removed it. Then he let his focus drop.
‘Check it out,’ said Psycho, showing them the compass. The metal pointer no longer pointed north.
‘Psycho,’ said Mikki, ‘did you just kill a magnet?’
Psycho grinned. ‘That I did.’
‘How?’
‘Well,’ said Psycho, ‘you know that you can make electromagnetism by focusing your happiness?’
‘Yeah?’
‘You can reverse that. If you focus your sadness, you can take away electromagnetism.
‘So…’ said Al, ‘you just demagnetised a compass?’
‘Yup. It works on watches too.’
‘Try the light trick.’
‘What?’
Al recited what he had learned about electromagnetic aura. ‘To get raw electromagnetism, you just focus your happiness, but by focusing on one happy memory, you can channel that electromagnetism into a very thin space and create light.’ Al turned to Psycho. ‘Sad memory please.’
Psycho stared at him for a second and looked at the glove. He already knew which depressing memory to choose, there was no debate on that. He focused on it, remembering how crushing it had been, and looked at the glove.
‘Woah,’ said Mikki.
‘Wow,’ said Al.
The glove was sucking in the light. Surrounding the glove was an orb of darkness, blocking the glove from view.
‘That’s pretty cool,’ said Lyle. ‘That might come in useful.’
Psycho grimaced at the idea of focusing on his worst ever memory being used for anything.
‘Breaking news!’
‘Oh, bloody hell,’ said Psycho.
They all turned to look at the TV.
‘The Museum of Divine History has gone up in flames after a terrorist intruder detonated a bomb within the building. A specialist team have entered the building but have not returned yet so far.’
‘Woah,’ said Lyle. Psycho rolled his eyes and went up to turn the TV off, but Lyle stopped him.
‘Wait!’ she said. ‘This is interesting. That museum’s been around for centuries.’
‘And it’s on fire,’ said Mikki, smiling.
They watched the footage of the burning building. Just as they were getting bored of it, they saw a figure run out of the building.
Psycho squinted. ‘Is that a person?’
Lyle pointed at what was in his hand. ‘Look! He stole the crown!’
Al frowned. ‘Not Myrano’s famous crown?’
‘Yup, that’s definitely it.’
‘Not a replica?’
‘The real crown is being held in the Museum of Divine History, and just when it burns down someone runs out, happening to be holding a replica?’ She gave a sarcastic laugh. ‘Too much of a coincidence.’
Psycho stared still as the figure, and just then he looked at the camera. ‘He kinda looks like Danny,’ he remarked. And then the figure scampered into the night.
Lyle was still staring at the burning building. ‘That place has been around for so long,’ she said quietly. ‘This is going to be a huge moment in history.’
Mikki laughed. ‘Don’t worry, Psycho can go in with his glove and suck the light away, right?’ he joked.
Psycho gave him a look of death.
‘Sorry,’ said Mikki.
~*~*~*~*~

The crown had been lying on the statue for a few million years now, undisturbed.
Myrano was not dead though. He was just dormant. And for a very, very long time, he’d just been stuck in the statue. His crown had survived, though. His rage and fury and raw malevolence had been preserved in his symbol. And what had happened? It was stuck on a STATUE for millions of years. Alright, it was a pretty handsome statue, but it was still completely inanimate. For all that time, the closest his crown had got to anyone was tourists gawping at it.
And then the sirens went off, and Glar the Defibrillated had dived into his room and pinched the crown.
Nobody knew it at the time, but even though the God was gone, the symbol still emitted some of his malevolence, and after however many million years he had gone a little bit stir-crazy. His influence had definitely had an impact on Glar, as just a few minutes after he picked up the crown, he had blown up and set fire to a huge amount of the museum, and not a few seconds after that he had shot a man in the head and not felt an ounce of regret. The crown had influenced him further, when he had single-handedly taken down nine armed men, and the fire he had started earlier killed the tenth. However the really BIG moment, the huge, important moment was when the crown of the God of Fire caught on fire. It was then, at the moment that Glar snatched it back, that the sleeping God within awoke.
Its first conscious thought remembering how he died. He was trying to kill Vityro, as he was becoming a tyrant with his lesser being army, but Liaguo had interfered. It was the God of Water who had killed him. All this was several million years ago though, so the crown searched this man’s mind for information. He was learned how Glar had witnessed Liaguo’s death, and the crown was very happy about that, but then he frowned as he realised that Liaguo could return as easily as he could. As Glar dragged the crown out of the building, the crown fuelled Glar’s determination and stamina, and helped him run into the night.
The crown wondered if he should simply possess this lesser being, but he decided against it. This man had a boss, a very powerful boss named STIX. STIX was the man with the technology, the money, and raw POWER. Power was something that the God of Fire could understand. So he would wait, wait for Glar to deliver his prize to his boss, and then take over the boss’s body. And once he did, he would kill Vityro in any way possible.
Inside the crown, the insane spirit laughed. The God of Fire was back.




~~~ CHAPTER SIX ~~~


FIRE AND ICE


ÜBER CHESS WAS THE MOST POINTLESSLY COMPLICATED GAME IN THE WHOLE DAMN UNIVERSE.

Al and indeed the rest of Angle L had taken residence in the Room of Self-Explanatory Purpose, which most people called the Fun Room. Partly because it was shorter, but also partly to avoid conversations about the purpose of the room, and meaning of the name. Whoever had named the room must’ve had a sense of humour, or maybe a sense of wordplay, or something of the sort. The purpose of the Room of Self-Explanatory Purpose was to be self-explanatory, therefore the purpose was to have an existing purpose, and was therefore a room that needed to be given a purpose. And this was why it was also known as the Fun Room, a name that was thought up the day that Well had brought in a multi-pack of mints, a multi-pack of cola, a washing machine and a hose. The Self-Explanatory Purpose room was, though the kids didn’t know it, quiet frankly the mostly poorly hidden of the five secret rooms around the Facility. It had only taken Well a few weeks to stumble across it and inform the entire of Angle L about its existence. The other Angles remained ignorant.
On this day, a good couple of months since his arrival now, Al was learning to play Überchess with Lowin, a game that required a certain level of patience.
‘What do you think you’re doing, Al? It’s my turn.’
‘What? But I played the Hattrick Turn piece!’
‘Yeah, but I did the Clean Slate manoeuvre.’
‘The what?’
‘You know, where you go from one side of the board to the other, capturing two pieces along the way? That causes all the effects on the opponent to be wiped.’
‘Ugh, you could’ve told me.’
Lowin moved his Knight-Bishop Hybrid piece nine spaces forward and slightly to the right. ‘Checkmate.’
Al was a quick learner, though. ‘Ah, no you don’t.’ He slid his Superrook straight to the other side, capturing three Prawns in the way.
‘Oh, damn,’ said Lowin.
‘Aha, see?’ said Al. ‘I just cleaned your slate. Now your Knight-Bishop is Water-type, not Fire-type.’
Lowin frowned at his piece, and took out the Type Changer chip in the top of the piece. ‘Nice move.’
Psycho and Justine wandered over to their table. The table that had chosen to play their game on was the only table in the room that looked like a modernised overturned fridge. This was pointed out a while ago, along with the fact that the table had the button reading “RETURN TO SENDER” on it. Nobody had any idea what any of this was, so they just treated it like normal. ‘What’s up?’ said Psycho, before spotting the board on the table. ‘Actually, never mind.’
‘I’ve been looking all over for the other YI guys,’ said Justine. ‘Can’t find them anywhere.’
‘Well, they’ve been put in a different Angle now haven’t they?’ said Al. ‘We probably won’t see th - ’
‘Did someone just say my name?’ said Well, approaching their fridge-shaped table. It was getting a bit crowded.
‘Nah,’ said Al. ‘Used it as the beginning of a sentence.’
‘OK,’ said Well. ‘What are you playing? Chess?’
‘Kind of.’
‘Whose go is it?’
‘Lowin’s.’
Lowin placed one of his new pieces on the board. ‘Fire Bomb,’ he said. ‘Takes out every life-type piece in the eight squares around it when is removed.
Al frowned. This was not good.
Well looked at the pieces Al had in his box. ‘Al?’
‘Hm?’
‘What’s that one?’ said Well, pointing at a piece that spanned over two places.
‘Uh, that one’s a Water-drive.’
‘Does it, like, push stuff?’
‘Um, yes.’
‘Couldn’t you use it to push his bomb into his king?’
Al stared at the piece, then at the board. He blinked a few times and then placed the Water-drive pointing towards the Fire-Bomb. Al slid the Water-drive along the table, pushing the Fire-bomb into Lowin’s king.
‘Boom,’ said Al. He took the drive, bomb, and king off the board. ‘I win.’
Lowin’s expression was one of complete shock.
‘What,’ he said, not believing that he had been beaten, by Well, of all people.
Al turned to meet Well’s eye. He had a truly enormous grin on his face.
Lowin jumped out of his seat. ‘This isn’t fair, you had help!’ he said to Al.
Well shook his head, but the smile was still there. ‘I don’t count as help. I’m far too stupid.’
Lowin gave a very severe look,
Well backed up. ‘Hey,’ he said, ‘easy.’ ‘I’ll show you an Earth game. Since I beat you at one of your games, I’m sure you’ll be excellent at this.’
Well beckoned for Lowin to follow him to two opposite seats on a table. They sat, and Well withdrew a 50p coin from his pocket.
‘Why do you have Earth money with you?’ asked Lowin.
‘So we can play this,’ said Well grinning. ‘Ever heard of Bloody Mary?’
‘No,’ said Lowin, not liking the name much.
‘Oh, it’s quite simple. What you do is put your fist on the table like this.’ Well placed his fist face down on the table and Lowin copied. ‘Then I take the coin like this.’ He pinned the coin to the table with his thumb and put his index finger and middle finger in front of it. ‘And then I fire,’ he said, sliding the coin pretty fast between his two fingers, smacking it straight into Lowin’s knuckles.
‘OW!’ yelled Lowin, grabbing his fist with his other hand and sucking his teeth. ‘What the hell was that?’
‘That was Bloody Mary,’ said Well. ‘We take turns. First one to bleed loses.’
Lowin stared at him.
‘You’re on.’
Various other activities were going on around the room. Lyle, Guibian, Nara, Nil, and Darl had made a circle on the floor talking about girl stuff. Mikki was in a corner talking with Tiner and two of his friends. Mach had brought in a keyboard, and was sitting at it with Sashah.
‘Now this,’ said Mach, playing a few notes with both hands, ‘is a little Earth tune from few years back. We call it The Bride.’
Sashah grinned. ‘Are you coming on to me?’
Mach shrugged and turned back to the keyboard, switching onto chord mode. He played a slow and very suggestive tune. ‘And that one is called The Stripper.’
Sashah pushed him playfully. Mach looked offended and played three simple notes that immediately suggested surprise.
‘Mach looks upset about something,’ said Al, staring over at the pair seated at the keyboard. ‘Wait, never mind, Mach looks really happy now.’
Psycho and Justine, who were sitting opposite to Al, looked over aswell. Psycho raised an eyebrow. ‘He’s getting right in there.’
‘Indubitably,’ Al said, nodding.
Psycho lowered that eyebrow and raised the other one. ‘Indubitably?’
‘What? Matt says it all the time,’ explained Al.
They were silent for a bit.
‘Did you ever know?’ asked Justine.
‘What?’ said Al.
‘About all this,’ replied Justine. ‘Did you ever suspect any of it when you were a kid?’
‘Yeah,’ answered Psycho. ‘When that kid, whatshisface, Hari something came to visit, I thought I was gonna be arrested for…’ Psycho hesitated. ‘But then he just looked at me, and I felt reassured.
‘That happened with me, too,’ said Al. ‘As if he knew what was best.’
‘I wonder how he is now?’ said Justine. ‘Hari, I mean.’
‘He looked about eleven, twelve,’ remarked Al. ‘He must be about sixteen by now.’
Al suddenly noticed Well, who was deep in his vicious coin game with Lowin, take out a thermal aura glove. He stared for a minute.
‘How did he get in to YI?’
‘Who?’
‘Well. Danny.’
‘I…’ Psycho trailed off. ‘I don’t know. Matt said that he had secret talents.’
‘Do you think we’re going to find out any time soon?’
‘I’ve been waiting five years with no luck, I’m sure I can wait a little longer.’
‘AGH, WHAT THE HELL?’
The three Earthlings and several others twisted around to see Lowin drop off of his seat, clenching his own fist in pain.
‘That was a good shot,’ remarked Well.
‘THAT WAS ABOUT FOUR HUNDRED FREAKING DEGREES HOT!’
‘Alright, calm down.’
Well threw the thermal aura glove away from him while Lowin wasn’t looking. Al sighed.
‘They’re not getting along too well, are they?’
‘Not really,’ said Psycho.
Justine sighed. ‘I wish Abby were here.’
Psycho looked offended. ‘You’ve got us!’
She stared. ‘As great as our friendship is, I’d like someone of more or less the same gender aswell.’
Al laughed. ‘Like Psycho said, you’ve got him.’
Psycho gave Al a patronising look.
‘Anyway…’ Psycho pointed at the circle of girls on the floor. ‘I thought you were friends with them?’
Justine pulled a face. ‘The same species would be nice, too.’
‘OK, now you’re just being fussy.’
The conversation was interrupted once more, as a fight had broken out.
‘Lowin, ow!’
Lowin had had enough of Well, and punched him as hard as he could in the chest. He lowered his fist. ‘Is that it?’
‘What?’
 ‘“Ow”?’
‘Yeah, well, it didn’t hurt much.’
Lowin punched again, this time higher up, below the neck.
‘Ooh, that tickles.’
Lowin made a sort of “grr” sound and hit Well in the chin,
‘GAH! OK, try that again and I might have to slap you.’
Lowin threw his fist at Well, who blocked it with his right forearm and slapped Lowin in the face with his left hand, hard. Lowin recoiled with a large red mark on his face.
‘Seriously, try that again and I’ll show you my backhand,’ said Well more viciously than seemed normal for him.
‘Ugh, useless Earth monkeys don’t know how to fight,’
All eyes turned towards the boy in the corner of the room. Al recognised him as Proco, one of Tiner’s friends. Al saw Proco, Tiner, and their other friend Torus talking earlier. He quickly realised that Mikki was there too.
‘Uhhh… what?’ said Mikki, looking like he was about to stand up.
‘You’re the exception that proves the rule.’
Mikki said nothing.
‘Are you dissing my slap?’ said Well, turning to his direction and holding up his hand threateningly.
‘It’s that planet, you know,’ said Proco. ‘All Earthlings… well, most Earthlings are just wusses who don’t even know how to fight.’
Now neither Mikki nor Well said anything. Al had never actually spoken to Proco before, but he decided now was a good time to start.
‘So you’re basing this opinion of every single person on a planet you’ve never even visited on what, exactly?’ said Al casually.
‘Uh, just look at yourselves,’ said Proco
‘Alright, calm down mate,’ said Mikki. He clearly wasn’t comfortable with this Earth abuse.
‘Sorry,’ said Proco, not even looking at him, ‘but this happens EVERY LUNCH. One of them damn Earth monkeys either making loads of noise with a glove or a coin or a washing machine.’
Well took a step forwards. ‘Are you dissing my washing machine?’
‘Monkey’s getting frisky.’
Al stepped out of his seat. ‘Mate, be quiet, we don’t offend YOUR planet.’
‘Which, quite frankly, has a much lower concentration of oxygen in the air,’ said Well.
Proco laughed. ‘Always trying to settle everything without violence, that’s so typical.
Al blinked. ‘Why would I want a fight?’
Proco got up. ‘For God’s sake,’ he muttered as he picked up the discarded thermal aura glove, heated it up and walked over to Al. ‘This,’ said Proco, as he pressed the glove against Al’s cheek, ‘is how we settle arguments where I come from.’
Al toppled away from the burning glove, his cheek hissing from the heat of the burn, the pain blurring his eyesight. He collapsed onto the strange table, and the Überchess set scattered all over the floor. Proco laughed manically.
‘Come on now,’ he said, smiling. ‘We came here to learn to fight. Let’s have a fight.’
Al wasn’t listening; he was still unable to even see properly. Proco sighed and went over to Well.
‘How about you?’ asked Proco.
Well backed right up against a wall. ‘You’re mad.’
‘What?’
‘I dunno why, but you’re really mad. You’re ANGRY. You’re FURIOUS.’
‘You’re about to get burned, at least put up a fight.’
Al had had enough. He blinked out the tears from his eyes and blocked out the pain. He rose from the ground, nothing on his mind except for stopping this kid from burning anyone else.
‘Monkey wants a fight?’
Al was furious. He was brimming with anger. But he put it to one side, forcing himself to focus. He knew he was useless at fighting, he knew how weak his upper body strength was, but he didn’t care. About anything.
Proco ran at him with the glove. Al flailed at his direction, forcing everything he had down into his arms. Then something completely unexpected happened.
The built-up raw rage ran straight into Al’s arms, channelling into his hands. Al flailed, trying to hit Proco before Proco hit him, and the fury left Al’s hand as a ball of fire, striking Proco straight in the chest. The flames immediately engulfed Proco, who dropped straight the floor, rolling around and crying desperately to try and rid the flames of his body.
Al blinked.
Everyone else stared, silently.
And Mr. Mort came through the door.
He stared at Proco rolling about on the floor for a while, and then at Al.
‘Al?’
Al was staring at his own hands.
‘Al!’
Al looked up. He saw Mr. Mort, and his heart plummeted.
‘My office.’
Mr. Mort left.
Al stared at the open doorway, where Mr. Mort had left, and then at Proco, swiping the last of the flames off of his clothes, and then at his own hands. Then, knowing he would be in worse trouble if he disobeyed, he followed Mr. Mort out of the door. It swung shut loudly in the silence.
Still the children stared at the closed door through which Al had left. All except for Proco, who was smouldering slightly in the centre of the room. He stood up, and realised nobody was even paying him any attention.
‘Hello?’
But nobody was listening.

~*~*~*~*~

Al ascended the staircase up from the Fun Room, following Mr. Mort out of the block. He knew exactly what he had down. He had put aside his rage, and rage was chemical energy, and chemical energy meant fire and explosions. He had controlled his own fury and concentrated it into a flail, which had resulted in him throwing a fireball. He had no idea he was capable of it, especially without wearing a glove. He also had no idea what Mr. Mort was going to do with him now.
They headed through the sunny grounds over to the Core Block. Al when he would next be seeing the sun again. He banished the thought from his head.
Mr. Mort led the way in the Core Block, the institutional white walls not seeming as welcoming as they had when he had first arrived. Al followed Mr. Mort up the marble staircase and down to his office, being completely silent the whole way. He had no idea what the punishment for setting fire to a fellow class member was, but he didn’t think it was just going to be writing lines.
At last they reached Mr. Mort’s office. He pushed open the door and slid in, seating himself at his desk. Al went after him, standing at the desk. There weren’t any more chairs.
‘Please,’ said Mr. Mort, ‘sit.’
Al sat on the ground straight away. Mr. Mort held down a large button on the side of his computer and clicked a few things that Al couldn’t see. Mr. Mort stared at the screen for a while, and then twisted the monitor over for Al to see.
‘This is the rule book,’ he said. ‘Do you mind reading rule 729 out loud?’
Al leant upwards and found the one labelled 729. ‘Um…’ he said, ‘“It is forbidden for pupils to set fire to others and / or do mischievous acts which lead to the combustion of others”. I don’t remember reading that one.’
Mr. Mort looked down at him in a way that made him wish he was never born. ‘Al, are you or are you not allowed to set fire to people at this Facility?’
‘No, sir.’
Mr. Mort nodded and clicked away from the rule list. ‘Al, how did you find out about the Room of Self-Explanatory Purpose?’
‘Uh, Psycho and Well found it a few weeks back,’ answered Al.
‘And, seeing as you were not informed about this room, why did you deem it OK to take residence in this room?’
Al opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it. Mr. Mort was right, that room was hidden from the map for a reason.
Mr. Mort leant back in his chair. ‘Have a look at this,’ he said, clicking onto a CCTV video. It was in black and white and there was no sound, but Al could still clearly make out the oddly shaped table of the Room of Self-Explanatory Purpose, himself, and the various members of his Angle. He watched Well slap Lowin across the face, and he watched Proco’s mouth move, and everyone turned to him. He kept watching as Proco grabbed the heat glove and burned Al’s cheek, and he watched as Proco threatened Well. And he watched as he set Proco on fire. The video then stopped.
‘Well then,’ said Mr. Mort. ‘What do you call this?’
‘An accident,’ said Al feebly.
Mr. Mort grinned. ‘Of course it was an accident.’
Al stared. ‘What?’
‘You expect me to believe that you were capable of using chemical energy after just a month or two of your training?’ He gave out a little sarcastic laugh. ‘Hah! It takes YEARS just to learn how to do that with, even with a training glove! What you did there was obviously a spontaneous outburst you had no control over.’
Al dared himself a small smile. ‘So…’ he said cautiously. ‘I’m not going to be expelled or anything?’
Mr. Mort laughed. ‘No, not now. You have extraordinary talent. But you must not get so angry that it happens again. As for the fighting…’ He thought for a second. ‘You, Well, Proco and Lowin get a week’s detentions.
Al had never been so glad to receive a detention. ‘So I’m not in really deep trouble?’
‘As long as it doesn’t happen again,’ answered Mr. Mort. ‘We’ll say that you’re now on very thin ice. And thin ice is the last place you want to be with firepower like that.’
‘So… can I leave now?’
‘Do you know what the machine in the room is?’
‘What?’
Mr. Mort pointed to the fridge-shaped object on the CCTV footage. ‘This.’
‘I – no, I don’t know.’
‘We found it,’ said Mr. Mort, ‘millennia ago. It was lying in one of the God’s summer homes. We have held onto it for many, many years, but so far nothing has come through.’ Mr. Mort looked Al right in the eye. ‘Do you know what it is?’
‘No, sir.’
‘It’s a time machine.’ Mr. Mort grinned. ‘The receiving end of a time machine. Nobody can go through it, but anybody who uses the transmitting machine, wherever it is, and whenever it is, would wind up right in here.’ He tapped the monitor. ‘We used the Room of Self-Explanatory Purpose to hold it safe, though it looks like you kids found a new use for it. We’re going to move the machine later today to a new location, anyway, so you can keep on using that room if you wish.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously.’
‘Now can I leave?’
‘OK, just remember, no more throwing fire, or fighting of any kind.’
Al got up to leave and headed for the door, and stubbed his toe. ‘Ow,’ he said, looking down. It was a small metal machine that looked like some kind of gear sandwich. He picked it up, and inspected it. It had two gears clamped together, and on the top one there were arrows going around clockwise. He showed it to Mr. Mort. ‘Sir, what’s this?’
Mr. Mort waved it away. ‘Take it, it’s nothing, it doesn’t do anything. Just a little thing I was making that I can’t get working. I have no use for it now.’
Al nodded and mumbled, ‘Thank you, sir,’ and left the room. Now, the marble chambers of the Core Block had never seemed so welcoming.

~*~*~*~*~

‘God, do you think they’ll whip him?’
‘Not unless the whip is boiling hot.’
‘What do you think then?’
‘The stocks. Or imprisonment.’
‘Ouch.’
A group of them had been speculating what had happened to Al for around ten minutes now. Every passing second made them more and more anxious.
‘Do you really think they’ll use physical punishment?’ asked Sashah.
Mach grinned. ‘Do you think they’ll use capital punishment?’
Psycho frowned at this. ‘No, they wouldn’t go THAT far. It was only an accident… I think.’
‘You think,’ said Justine. ‘Maybe he did it on purpose.’
‘He’s a pyromaniac, he is,’ said Well. ‘You just can’t STOP him from setting people on fire.’
‘Really?’ asked Lowin.
‘No, not really. Dumb kid.’
Before another fight could break out, the door opened. Everyone turned to see who it was, and everyone was delighted to see Al in the doorway.
‘Hi,’ he said.
Well ran straight at him and hug-tackled him to the ground. ‘Jesus Al, we thought we’d lost you then! Mach said they were gonna execute you!’
Mach frowned. ‘That’s not fair.’
Al pushed Well off of him and stood up, brushing himself off. ‘We spoke a bit.’
‘What?’
‘With Mr. Mort. We had a fairly short conversation.’
‘Is that it?’
‘Yup.’
‘Not even a little whipping?’ asked Well.
‘Nah,’ answered Al. ‘He just showed me the rule list again, made me promise not to do it again. Told me that it’s not a good idea to be playing with firepower on thin ice.’
‘That’s quite a smart thing to say,’ muttered Psycho.
‘Really?’ said Al. ‘I thought it was kind of cheap.’ He looked around the room. ‘Where’s Proco?’
‘Ah, he went to the medical room,’ informed Psycho. ‘Second degree burns and what not. Hey…’ Franky looked over Al. ‘How’d you throw the fire?’
‘Mr. Mort said it was just chemical aura. He said I’m naturally skilled at controlling anger that I didn’t even need a training glove.’
‘OK…’ Psycho pulled a face. ‘Promise to not get on the wrong side of ME any time soon.’
Al wandered through the room and sat down on a table, and then jumped up when he realised which table he’d said on.
‘That reminds me,’ said Al. ‘This table is a time machine.’
‘A time machine?’ said Mach.
‘Yes,’ said Al. ‘A time machine.’
‘You mean… a machine… that goes through time?’
‘The very one.’
‘Why is it a table?’
Al shrugged. ‘Mr. Mort said that it was only the receiving end, so they just had to wait for someone to come through to find out. He’s gonna get it moved and we can keep on using the Fun Room.’
Psycho frowned. ‘I liked that table.’
‘It wasn’t a table.’
‘I don’t care.’
‘Where do you think they’re moving the table?’
‘No idea,’ answered Psycho. He nodded over to Well. ‘But it’ll be fun to find out.’
‘True, that.’




~~~ CHAPTER SEVEN ~~~


A CONVERSATION OF LIFE


THE SECOND-TO-LAST THING ANYBODY EXPECTED TO BE HIDDEN UNDERNEATH THE CORE BLOCK WAS A SECRET GOVERNMENT MEETING FACILITY. THE LAST THING ANYBODY EXPECTED WAS DEBATABLE.

	As the various members seated themselves around the translucent table, Mr. Mort counted them up. Seated in six seats in the middle were all of the Angle Leaders, including Angle L’s nameless leader with four arms. This leader had refused to include his name in his application form. Mr. Mort suspected that this man had left the text field blank when applying for an ID when he was younger, but he denied it. Seated either side of Mr. Mort were Matt, the Head of Human Resources & Organised Kidnapping, and Mr. Mort’s personal apprentice, Zight, who stayed quiet when he didn’t have to talk, a quality for which Mr. Mort was very grateful.
Mr. Mort sat at one end of the table, thinking about the people he had lined up here. He would hardly call them “governmental”, but they had their own respective skills and talents, for which Mr. Mort was grateful. The only empty seat now was at the other end of the table, a seat much higher and grander than the others, with emeralds in the armrests. Their visitor was late, but Mr. Mort knew that it would do no good to complain about it.
‘How long is he going to be?’ asked Matt in Yeryerskah, drumming his fingers on the translucent table.
Mr. Mort looked at him sharply. ‘I don’t know, Matt. You should phone him and ask.’
Matt opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it promptly. He stared down at his drumming fingers, and then realised that Mr. Mort was still glaring at him. He stopped drumming.

~*~*~*~*~

‘Mach, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?’ yelled Well, as he lifted Sashah’s limp body off of the floor. ‘I had it all planned… we were going to buy a little house on a quiet planet and have a pet snake! And you ruined it all!’
Mach stood there, staring at Well. ‘Uh… I didn’t mean to.’
Without warning, Sashah opened her eyes. ‘Wait, Well!’
Well jumped back from her, his surprise obvious. ‘But how!’
‘Yes, I’m alive… somehow!’ Sashah yelled. She waited for a second, and realised she was supposed to say something else. ‘And also… I’m… uh, pregnant.’
‘What?’
‘Sorry, I forgot the line.’
‘Ugh, we’re going to fail this test so badly.’
Mach ripped his tie off. ‘Why do you need to practise this with me?’ he asked. ‘I hate Drama.’
Well wagged his finger. ‘It’s not Drama, it’s Role-play. Our acting skills will come in very useful one day.’
Mach walked over to Sashah. ‘Well, then,’ he said, pulling Sashah towards him, ‘we’re back in real life now.’
Well looked between them and frowned. ‘You two are still together?’
‘Yup,’ answered Sashah.
Well turned back to Mach. ‘How’d you manage that?’
Before Mach could say anything, Psycho came through the door. ‘Come look at this!’ he said excitedly. ‘There’s a shiny car and –’ He frowned. ‘Mach, what are you doing here? I thought you hated Drama.’
Mach looked over at him. ‘Actually, it’s not Drama – it’s Role-play.’
Psycho sighed. ‘Just come with me.’
The three of them followed Psycho out of the Role-play studio and into the daylight. It had been two weeks since Al’s “outbreak” now, and most people could barely remember it, except for Proco, who kept well away from Al and the other Earthlings. The bigger point of discussion was the major Role-play exam coming up soon, and, as Psycho was about to show, the shiny car.
The group climbed the stairs and walked past the Core Block, and found the path past the entrance blocked by cones.
‘Oh no,’ said Well, ‘cones. How do we get past?’
‘We don’t,’ said Psycho. ‘Look.’
They looked up round the entrance. A long and heavily armoured yet sleek and stylish limousine rolled in through the entrance, painted black with tinted windows. It went straight past the cones and into a turning off to the right into a parking area that nobody had ever been in.
‘I didn’t even realise we had an entrance,’ muttered Psycho. ‘What’s wrong with the teleporters?’
‘Maybe whoever is inside doesn’t want to be in a public teleportation room?’ said Mach.
A door to the Core Block opened and Al stepped out to join the group. ‘Hey, what’s with the cones?’
‘Special visitor,’ said Well. ‘Special visitor who has a phobia of running over children in his car.’
‘Who do think it is?’ asked Sashah.
As if to answer her question, the owner of the car stepped out of the parking area. He was tall, and his entire body was concealed from view with a black robe. It was hooded in such a way that even Al could see into his face it was shrouded in shadows. In his gloved hand he held a long scythe, about the height of a fully grown man. Even from a long distance away, a green glow could be seen emitting from the blade of the scythe. The tall man walked briskly towards the Core Block, entering through a distance entrance that was blocked off by cones. Al turned straight round to Sashah.
‘Was that…’
‘God? Yeah, that’s him. Unless it’s some crazed fan, or maybe just a crazed religious guy who dresses like him. But it’s really hard to get glowing scythes like that these days.
‘Sashah?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Are you excited?’
‘A little.’
‘Shall we go and follow him?’
‘Let’s.’
Al and Sashah broke away from the group and slipped in through the door that Al had come from. He looked to the right and spied the tall man’s hood through the window of the door.
‘It’s a shame that we’re not allowed in those corridors out of lesson hours,’ said Al.
‘It is,’ agreed Sashah. ‘It really is. C’mon.’
	She strode straight through the door, walking with purpose straight to the hooded man. Al shrugged and walked off after her.
	‘What happens if we get caught?’ asked Al.
‘I don’t know, they expel us or something,’ said Sashah, unfocussed. They passed through the reception and followed the man into the white halls.
‘Bit of a risk chasing him, then?’ said Al.
‘Well, yeah, but, you know… meh.’
‘You’re such a fan-girl.’
‘Well, it’s not every day you get to meet a God, you know?’
‘Wow… I hadn’t thought of it like that.’
‘He stepped into a wall.’
‘What?’
Sashah pointed out into the corridor where the man was. He wasn’t there anymore.
‘Where did he go?’ asked Al.
‘I don’t know,’ replied Sashah. ‘I just saw him step into the wall…’
‘INTO the wall?’
‘I’m fairly sure there’s no door in that spot of the wall. Wait, stop.’
Sashah blocked Al with his arm. ‘This is where he went into the wall.’
‘On the completely plain marble wall?’
‘That’s the one.’
Sashah felt along the wall, looking for something hidden for the wall. Suddenly just gasped and stopped her hand, holding it on one spot. A smile spread across her face.
‘It’s warm,’ she whispered.
Al frowned and placed his fingertips on the same spot on the wall.
‘It’s warm.’
‘I know, right? It’s probably some aura secret door or something.’
‘You REALLY ARE such a fan girl.’
Sashah laughed. ‘You don’t trust me? OK…’
She placed her full palm on the wall and closed her eyes. A second later a whole square foot section of the wall clicked backwards and slid upwards, revealing a metal plate. On it was the word “PROTOGON” and a number pad, with Yeryerskah digits.
‘How…’ said Al.
‘I just fed it a little energy,’ she said.
‘Without a glove?’
‘What? I’m quite good at aura, you know. You should know, you threw a fireball without a glove the other day, right?’
Al decided to change the subject. ‘So, since we don’t know the code, we turn back and stop stalking a God?’
Sashah seemed unconvinced. ‘We should try and guess it. Or blow it open.’
‘Yeah, let’s blow it open,’ said Al, ‘so that we can invade the private hideout of a God.’
Sashah opened her mouth to speak, and then paused.
‘Good point,’ she admitted. ‘Hey, where are all the staff members? Doesn’t Mr. Mort usually patrol the corridors out of lessons?’
‘Maybe he’s inside,’ said Al, walking back. ‘So, where were you? We couldn’t find you anywhere.’
‘Practicing for the Role-play exam,’ she replied, walking back aswell.
‘And you’re working with Mach and Well? Sorry, but you could’ve chosen better people than that.’
‘What? I dragged Mach into it; he hardly spends any time with me. And Well’s really enthusiastic about it. He even wrote our script.’
‘Well wrote your script?’
‘Yeah.’
‘The script to your major Role-play examination was written by Well?’
‘That sounds like the same question to me.’
‘Sorry, but… this is WELL we’re talking about. How many times does he make you announce the fact that you’re pregnant? Three?’
‘Only two.’
‘Oh, that’s OK then.’
Sashah looked unhappy. ‘What about you? Who are you with?’
‘Psycho and Lowin. We don’t have a script; we’re just going to improvise on stage. It’s much more fun.’
‘Seriously? This is very important stuff. You’re just going to make it up as you go along?’
Al grinned. ‘If there’s one thing I can learn from my life, it’s this: plans never work for me. Knowing what you’re going to do restricts your options. I find it easier to go by instinct.’
‘Going by instinct gets you killed a lot.’
‘Not if you’re me.’
‘It’s a shame I’m not you.’
‘It is, but it’s not all bad. You’re you, after all.’
‘That’s a relief.’

~*~*~*~*~

After ten minutes of waiting, Mr. Mort was actually bored. He, the man who had spent many years trapped in a coffin, simply waiting to be released. Of course, he would never let the others notice. He maintained his posture, as slumping would convey weakness, and Mr. Mort refused to let that happen. He had spent far too many centuries working on his image to let it go to waste. He didn’t even notice that several of the people at the table actually had their heads drooped on the table.
Finally, the secret entrance to the room unfolded, revealing the intimidating form of Vityro, the God of life. Every man at the table immediately snapped to attention and stood up in respect as Vityro took his seat at the table, resting his glowing scythe on the right-hand armrest.
‘My Lord,’ said Mr. Mort, trying to think of a way to ask why he was late without offending him. ‘I trust you arrived without worry?’
Vityro beckoned with his hand for them to sit, which they did.
‘I overslept,’ said the God. He pulled down his hood, revealing his exceptionally ordinary face, a face that looked like it was calculated from the average of all the faces on the planet. He reached under his robe, under which he was wearing some very practical shorts. He pulled a stick of gum out of it, ripped off the wrapper and popped it into his mouth. He dropped the wrapper onto the top of his scythe and it instantly disintegrated in a puff of green. ‘Also,’ he added while chewing the gum, ‘I think two of your kids tried to follow me here. They might’ve seen me go through the secret entrance.’
Mr. Mort put on his authoritative face. ‘Did you recognise them? We can punish them later for invading your privacy.’
Vityro waved the offer away with his hand. ‘Nonsense, they were only curious! Who wouldn’t be? I remember the day you met me, Mort. I daresay you had to bend a few rules to say hello, didn’t you?’
Mr. Mort was silent.
‘Anyhow,’ said Vityro, ‘We have much more pressing matters. I’m sure you all saw this news bulletin a while ago, but anyhow, let’s watch it again.’ He turned to a big screen to the left of the table and gestured at it. It replayed the news clip of the Museum of Divine History going up in flames, with a figure running from it, having stolen the crown of Myrano and killed eleven men.
‘I apologise for the lack of sound,’ said Vityro, ‘but the reporter was horrifically inaccurate in her description of the events. We identified the figure as Glar, a man known for his stealth and evasive skills. I would’ve never thought he would sink this low, though.’
‘I don’t suppose Myrano would be very happy about his crown being stolen,’ said Leorard, the History teacher who was also leader of the Angle T.
‘Curious that you say that,’ said Vityro. ‘I think that Myrano may have something to say about this after all. Look at Glar: He’s always been a stealthy, secretive man, and then, literally seconds after grabbing the crown he burns down a museum and kills eleven men without thinking twice about it. I believe that the crown may be… angering him.’
‘Angering him?’ asked Zight, the apprentice.
‘I think that by holding the crown, he might be getting somewhat infected by Myrano’s malevolence. Myrano had a lot of malevolence.’
‘So what are you saying?’ asked Mr. Mort. ‘You’re saying that the crown is evil?’
‘Pretty much,’ answered Vityro. ‘But I fear it may only get worse. You should definitely keep security tight, though. We have no idea what the crown may do to whoever is holding it now.’
‘You think we might be attacked?’
‘I think that there is no harm in taking precautions.’
Several of the people around the table were frowning. This meeting had been set up for all of them, but it seemed to be private between Vityro and Mr. Mort. They were being excluded, all except the four armed teacher, who wouldn’t have spoken anyway. Mr. Mort looked quite worried now. ‘Well, where do you think the crown is now?’
‘As far as I know, Glar never works alone,’ said Vityro. ‘He’s the kind of man who doesn’t move a finger unless somebody pays him to do it.’
‘So the question is,’ replied Mr. Mort, ‘who has enough money to pay Glar to rob one of the most treasured objects on the planet?’

~*~*~*~*~

Simon Trench the Ninth stood up in the top deck of his airship. Simon Trench the Ninth loved his airship. He had bought it after leaving Earth for the first time, upon which he had taken the name STIX. He chose to call the airship STX, meaning Simon Trench the Tenth. Many people regarded this as a definite sign that he had finally become power-mad.
The STX was floating casually over the rolling green hills of the Yeryerskah plains, feeling quite bored. STIX stared over the luscious meadows, wondering how much it would cost to build factories over them. His thoughts were disrupted by one of his small blue Podships flying towards the ship. He frowned, wondering who it could be. As the pod flew straight over the airship its engines turned off and its door opened, and Glar the Defibrillated, donning a bright pink backpack, dropped straight down into the top deck of the STX. He crouched on the surface of the large airship as the unmanned Podship spiralled downwards and shattered over a field.
‘What are YOU doing here?’ asked STIX. He didn’t like people interrupting his precious thinking time.
‘Sir, you sent me on a mission,’ answered Glar. ‘I’ve been on the run from the police.’
STIX’s face was blank.
‘You sent me to break into a museum?’
Still nothing.
‘To get the crown of the God of Fire?
‘Ah, yes,’ said STIX at least. ‘What took you so long?’
‘I couldn’t find you, could I?’ said Glar. ‘You could’ve at least waited for me to show up.’
‘I don’t like waiting. Give me my crown.’
Glar sighed and passed his pink backpack over to STIX.
‘What’s this?’
‘The crown, sir.’
‘Why is it in a backpack?’
‘I don’t like holding it,’ admitted Glar. ‘It feels… evil.’
STIX laughed at this. ‘You worry about trivial things too much. Why did you have to use a pink backpack?’
Glar frowned. STIX was such a hypocrite it wasn’t even funny.
‘I found it lying around on a street. I couldn’t go in a shop or the police would be on me.’
STIX frowned. Maybe he should buy the police service sometime.
‘Let’s have a look at our treasure, shall we?’
Glar was apprehensive. He knew that crown had affected him badly, and with somebody with as much power as STIX, there wouldn’t be very good consequences. But he didn’t want to upset STIX, so he dismissed the thoughts as paranoia. Had he stopped STIX there and then, the entire course of history from then onwards may’ve been very, very different. But he hadn’t.
STIX unzipped the backpack and pulled the crown out of the pack. He stared at the flaming tips of the crown, and then inside the pack, wondering if the flames had singed the inside of the backpack, but it hadn’t. He casually threw the bag over the rails of the STX and placed the crown upon his own head, striking a pose.
‘Do you think it suits me?’
‘Down to the ground, sir.’
STIX began to lead Glar down the steps to the lower decks. ‘As for your payment, I think a sum – ’
STIX froze on the spot, his mouth fixed in the exact same position it was when he stopped talking. He looked like he was about to tip over.
‘Sir…?’ said Glar, anxiously.
STIX tilted forwards, and then suddenly the flames on the crown burned a little brighter, and STIX’s eyes snapped into focus. He moved his hand in front of his face, as if wondering what his own body could do.
‘Are you OK, sir?’
STIX snapped quickly back to Glar, remembering what he had just been talking about. ‘Sorry, as I was saying, I will pay you after you complete a few more jobs for me.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Your work is not done yet. I need you to complete just a few more small tasks before I make you nice and rich.’
‘But I was going to get a nice new Podship. That one I came in was just one of your cheap industrial ones. I want a new one, with racing stripes.’
‘And you will,’ said STIX, ‘in time. Just a few matters I need to get out of the way first.’

~*~*~*~*~
Psycho laughed slowly when Al and Sashah returned to the coned-off area.
‘Back from your romantic adventure already, I see?’ he said.
Al was surprised? ‘What? No. We just went and found a secret door?’
‘Seriously? Where?’
Somewhere in the Core Block corridor. You need some password to get in.’
‘That sucks. Do you think we could guess it?’
‘I am EPIC.’
‘What?’
They turned around to see Well approaching. ‘Did you miss me?’
Sashah frowned. ‘I didn’t notice you were gone.
The frown spread to Well’s face. ‘What?’
‘Sorry, but… why are you epic?’
Well cheered up almost instantly. ‘Well, you know the Pits have loads of sealed off doors?’
They nodded. The Pits were a series of rooms built into rocky caverns, primarily used to teach History and Philosophy. Out of about seven doors, five were permanently locked.
‘Well,’ said Well, ‘I was bored, so I wandered off, and I went past the Pits and I thought “Hey, I wonder how many of those locks are reinforced?”. So I went through them and found loads of new rooms. Seriously, they were like a maze. I nearly got lost. They were two rooms that were completely opposite, and the one on the right was reinforced, but I kicked through the one on the left and nearly fell like fifty feet into a giant cavern.’
Mach’s eyes widened. ‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously.’
‘I wanna check that out some time.’
‘Anyway,’ said Well, ‘I went in one of these rooms and guess what I found? The time machine.’
‘You mean the one that we used as a table?’ asked Al.
‘That’s the one,’ answered Well. ‘So if we ever need to greet a man from the future, we know where.’
‘Excellent,’ said Psycho. ‘I have some cousins from the future I’m planning on meeting this afternoon.’
‘Your cousins are gay.’
‘Your face is gay.’
Al wasn’t listening. The thought of the time machine had triggered a connection in his mind. He twisted around and pulled the gadget that Mr. Mort had given him out of his pocket.
‘What, you can buy cream crackers coated in metal now?’ said Well.
Al ignored him. ‘Sashah, any idea what this is?’
‘None at all,’ she answered. ‘Where’d you find it?’
‘Mr. Mort gave it to me when I set f – when I saw him the other day. I’m trying to work out what it does.’
Psycho looked over it. ‘Look at the gears – they have finger slots around them. And there are circular arrows. Maybe you’re supposed to twist it.’
‘Tried that,’ said Al, twisting the device all the way around to prove his point. ‘It’s probably either broken or out of battery.’
‘But what does it do when it DOES work?’ asked Mach.
‘Maybe it shoots lasers.’
‘Shut up, Well.’

~*~*~*~*~

STIX had sent Glar off on his next task on one of the cheap industrial Podships, not trusting him with a half-decent one after seeing what had happened to the one he had arrived on. And now STIX was alone.
STIX was not, strictly, alone though. In fact, STIX was not even there any more. The crown had seized its chance, and engulfed him. There was no STIX anymore: only the crown.
He knew this was risky. If the crown slipped off, it would by over. The moment the crown loses contact, STIX would regain control, and awake as if he had been asleep. But the crown would still be aware. The crown doesn’t sleep.
The STX had landed in Ecipon, one of the biggest cities in Yeryersk. STIX was sat at a desk in the Ecipon Cathedral, which was a skyscraper dedicated to the worship of the God of Water, Liaguo, up until he died. Since then, the building became a bit useless, so STIX bought some of the floors and, since the building was still one of the best maintained on the planet, used it like a private headquarters. On the desk he had gone to some rather drastic lengths to get hold of blueprints of Vityro’s facility. He had done some research, and learned that Vityro was putting together his own miniature aura army, in an obscure place that was only accessible by teleporter, and was only known as the Facility.
The crown knew that Liaguo had killed the God of Fire, but it was all Vityro’s fault. HE was the one that had provoked Myrano into attack. He was the tyrant who he had tried and failed to resist against. It was Vityro’s fault that Myrano was gone.
There were dozens of teleporters that led to the Facility, but they were all guarded. Not very well – the goons that were hired to provide security were barely any better trained than regular teleporter operators. The crown had complete faith that Glar would be able to get into the teleporter without any problems at all. Seeing as how Glar had managed to get him face plastered all over the news for his crime, STIX had bought Glar a bag to take with him – pink, of course. And in this bag, STIX had given him a very big bomb, and it was going to go off right in the centre of the Facility.
STIX, and the crown, let out a manic laugh. Vityro wouldn’t even know what hit him.




~~~ CHAPTER EIGHT ~~~


HARI’S TASK


HARI HAD FINALLY FINISHED RECRUITING EVERY EARTHLING FOR THE YERYERSKAH INITIATIVE, SO HE HAD MADE HIMSELF A SANDWICH.

The sandwich was made from white bread, not wholegrain. The sandwich was composed of two slices, hugging together a thin layer of butter on each slice, and then an even spreading of peanut butter. Upon the peanut butter the jam was spread, the peanut butter being used to efficiently spread the jam, without causing the jam to stick or, even worse, the bread to rip. The jam was strawberry jam, as any other flavour of jam would’ve clashed with the peanut butter, and it wouldn’t have gone down well with the normal butter at all, in Hari’s opinion. The sandwich had been cut into two triangles, as sliced down the diagonal. This gave a steep eating advantage compared to a rectangular sandwich, as whereas a rectangular sandwich is composed of four right angles, these triangles contain one right angle and two, much more eatable rather acute angles. Hari preferred to give his food small angles. It made them easier to bite into.
Hari tucked into the sandwich, remarking on how much better his sandwiches had been since he had planned every single stage. He had returned to Yeryersk a few days ago from the teleporter on the moon and now he was sitting rather happily the largest kitchen of the ground floor of his primary house, located in the quiet county of Bishill. Only the severely rich could afford to live there, so it was lucky that Hari’s father had managed to make himself a millionaire out of his telepathic son.
A girl of about twelve years of age walked into the kitchen, holding a phone. ‘Hey, you little git. Matt’s calling.’
He grinned. He loved his darling sister. He took the phone from her and she left the room hastily.
‘Hey…’ said Hari. ‘Hari here’
‘My boy!’ said Matt, his voice clear through the modern phone. ‘Still going by the pseudonym? Well, guess what? You got everyone! We just had the meeting, everyone showed up. Vityro’s delighted.’
A large smile spread across Hari’s face.
‘I’m in my office right now; I’ve got Vityro next door. Come over ASAP, and we’ll try get your head fixed, OK?’
Hari hung up, crammed the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and ran out of his house as fast as he could.

~*~*~*~*~

‘Big assessment today.’
‘Mhm.’
‘This could have big consequences.’
‘Mhm.’
‘Seriously, this is our first proper exam; it’s the biggest thing yet.’
‘Al, stop talking.’
Several weeks had passed since Vityro’s arrival at the Facility. Al and Psycho had been waiting in for the teleporter to Storarch for 10 minutes with Lyle and Mikki, with Tiner standing around in the corner as per usual.
‘Who are you working with, Mikki?’ asked Lyle.
‘Tiner and Proco.’
Lyle grimaced, though luckily Tiner wasn’t watching the conversation. ‘I’m working with Nara and Sashah. They’re both really good at Role-play’
‘Oh, Nara’s good at Role-play?’ said Mikki.
‘Yeah.’
‘Just like she’s good at EVERYTHING ELSE?’
‘Well… not at Maths.’
Mikki scoffed. ‘It’s not Maths! They just call it Maths so that the inspectors don’t get upset at the lack of core subjects!’
‘Yeah, I guess so.’
The next few minutes were in silence.
‘Where the hell is our ride?’ said Mikki.
‘It’s probably late,’ said Psycho, pulling out his Omnifact. ‘It’s 8:46. Six minutes late.’
‘Guys?’ said Al. ‘I think we missed it.’
‘Aw, hell,’ said Mikki. ‘Mr. Mort give me a real whipping last time I was late.’
‘I’ve never even missed a teleport before,’ said Lyle, with a sideways frown on her face.
They waited the remaining four minutes. The teleport came at 8:50.
‘Well, this is just great,’ muttered Franky as they headed for the next teleporter. ‘I suppose Sashah’s already there by now.’
They tried to walk into the teleporter, but the guard didn’t budge.
‘What’s your problem, mate?’ asked Mikki.
‘Nobody is allowed through here today,’ said the goon.
‘Good job my middle name is Nobody,’ mumbled Mikki, pushing past the guard.
‘Hey!’ yelled the guard, as the group all pushed past.
‘OK, let’s go quick,’ said Mikki.
There was an awkward silence.
‘And I just realised we have to wait 10 minutes.’
‘I can’t be bothered with that,’ said Al. He stepped out of the teleporter, pushed the disgruntled guard out of the way, threw the switch down and got back in.’
‘Those guards fail at their job,’ said Al as they teleported to the Facility.
Psycho checked the time. ‘8:52,’ he said. ‘We’re not THAT late.’
Al grinned. They had only lost two minutes.
‘C’mon Franky, let’s go find Lowin. We should try and fit some rehearsal in before the bell.’
Al and Psycho broke away from the others and headed straight for the Core Block. The door was locked.
‘That’s not good,’ Al mumbled. ‘Maybe he’s in the Fun Room.’
They left the Core Block and headed down to the Mind Block, where the Room of Self-Explanatory Purpose was located. Al walked up to the poster which was titled “MAP OF THE MIND”, with various different aspects of human nature divided into sections. Al pressed against the small label reading “Curiosity” and pressed the secret switch behind it. The wall slid up, and the Fun Room was revealed. They stepped inside.
‘It’s empty,’ said Al.
‘Why is it empty?’ said Psycho. ‘It’s never empty.’
‘They must all be in the Role-play Room…’
It was only one flight of stairs and a quick walk down a corridor to room M-3 – much better known as the Role-play Room. Once they were there, they slipped into the room and took a long look over the place – searching in the costume draws and behind the stage.
‘Can’t find him…’ said Psycho. ‘Where IS everyone?’
‘I have no idea…’ said Al. He pulled out his Omnifact and called Lowin.
In a jolly little town called Summer’s Speed about fifty miles away, Lowin answered the call.
‘Hey Lowin,’ said Al. ‘Where are you right now?’
‘I’m at home,’ replied Lowin’s voice. ‘Why, where are you?’
‘Uh, at the Facility?’
‘WHAT? You have to get out of there!’
‘Eh?’
‘Didn’t you hear? There’s a bomb in the Core Block?’
‘What? We were late, why, whehhhh…’
Al’s voice trailed off into a mass of confused syllables. Psycho ripped the Omnifact out of Al’s hand.
‘Lowin?’ said Psycho. ‘What do you know?’
‘Well, from what I’ve heard, it has a timer,’ said Lowin. ‘When I was there about half an hour ago, I remember it said 34:28… then 34:27… then 34:26…’
‘That’s not good,’ said Al. ‘Psycho, let’s go, now.’
Al snatched the Omnifact back and switched it to speaker mode. ‘Lowin, you’re on speaker. Anything else you know about the bomb?’
‘They said it had about a five-mile radius.’
Al and Psycho sped up their walk.
‘Couldn’t they defuse it or something?’ asked Psycho, desperately.
‘They tried, but it was brand new. They’d never seen anything like it. They wanted to get Tryne to have a look at it, but she never showed up for some reason.’
‘Tryne? The bomb girl?’
‘Yeah, the bomb girl. I heard she managed to blow up someone’s apartment using just vinegar, baking soda, a whisk and a match once.’
‘We’ve all heard the story, Lowin. Thanks for the help. We’ll call you back if we live. Bye’
‘Bye,’ said Al. He cut the call on the Omnifact, just as they reached the teleporter room.
‘OK, let’s g – Oh, bugger,’ said Al.
‘What?’
‘Lyle, Mikki and Tiner.’
‘Son of a bitch.’
Three people were still inside.
‘That bomb could go any minute, let’s just go h –’
A bell rang, and at exactly the same door, there was the sound of a door opening further down the room.
	Al checked the time. ‘9:00,’ he said. ‘Someone’s a bit late.’
The figure ran up the corridor. Psycho grinned.
‘Hey, bomb gir – hey, Tryne!’
‘Argh, we’re late aren’t we…’ she said.
‘Yes,’ said Al. ‘We need you to go to the Core Block, RIGHT NOW.’
Without another word, they ran out of the Tongue Block and up to the locked door of the Core Block.
‘Bleugh,’ said Al. ‘Locked. How did I forget.’
‘I know!’ said Psycho. ‘Let’s wait for the bomb to go off, and it’ll blow open.’
Al sighed, and placed his palm in front of the door handle. He breathed deeply, pulled his hand back and thrust it into the door. The door burst open.
‘I thought only Matt could do that?’ said Psycho as they ran inside.
‘Little trick I learned in Aura Studies,’ he muttered. ‘All you need is a little mechanical energy converted to movem –’
‘Sorry I asked,’ said Psycho. ‘Oh look, a bomb.’
There was a bomb on the floor. Small and cubic, it didn’t look that threatening. The only worrying part was the rectangular digital timer on the top that read “04:41”.
‘Loads of time,’ said Psycho.

~*~*~*~*~

Hari was seated on a less than comfortable seat, staring at a newspaper. The newspaper was packed so full of news about the death of Liaguo, the God of Water, that there was no room for anything else, not even adverts. Apparently, last night Liaguo had attempted to kill Vityro but he had been found out or something, and Vityro had “blown Liaguo’s face off”. Hari had read the paper twice over now, and was reducing to just staring at the words, waiting.
Vityro liked making people wait. When people waited, it seemed as if the one for whom they were waiting was busy. Vityro liked it when people thought he was busy, as it drew on a sense of nostalgia. When Vityro was a couple o’ billion years younger, he was ALWAYS busy. Running the universe, sending medical supplies to distant planets, plaguing great lands of sin, and so on. But one day, the lesser beings decided that they didn’t like a God being their ruler. Instead, they wanted a normal person making all their decisions for them. Vityro was happy to step aside, but he still missed being busy.
The thing that Vityro found curious was WHY he missed it. He didn’t, after all, have emotions. Emotions were nothing more than soul leakage – any skilful aura user could concentrate them into energy. Emotions were for normal people, not for a God. He supposed that he only missed the past, because it was a safer place. He was safe in the past. You never knew what was in the future.
He kept the boy waiting for another ten minutes, which gave Vityro enough time for three games of solitaire. He lost all of them so wiped the cards off the table and prepared for the meeting. He grabbed a hold of his scythe and invited the boy in.
‘My Lord,’ exclaimed Hari, dropping to his knees. ‘It is such a pleasure to meet you in the flesh.’
Vityro frowned. ‘There’s nothing wrong with the chairs, you know.’
Hari frowned for a second before pulling himself off the floor and seating himself at the desk.
‘So,’ said Vityro. ‘Why are you here?’
Hari blinked. ‘You’re the one who invited me.’
‘Did I?’ replied Vityro sceptically. ‘I don’t remember that. You sure it wasn’t Mort or Matt?’
‘Yeah, but I thought you knew about it…’
‘Well, I don’t. Enlighten me, please.’
This wasn’t what Hari was expecting at all.
‘Uh, well, you made me this deal, that if I managed to recruit six Earthlings for your initiation thing, you would cure my mind problem.’
‘Mind problem?’ asked Vityro.
‘You really don’t know?’ Hari frowned. ‘It was all over the news and everything.’
‘I don’t follow the news.’
‘Well… I’m the best telepath in the universe – for my age, anyway. A few months ago I accidentally used my telepathy on myself.’
‘I had no idea that was possible.’
‘Yeah, well, it is. I instructed my self to never grow old.’
‘Ah.’
‘I’ve been the same size for months.’
Vityro leaned back on his chair. ‘So you want me to undo the telepathic spell?’
‘Please.’
Vityro sat up straight and seized onto his scythe with both hands. He stared at Hari in the eyes. Then he flinched.
‘Something wrong?’ said Hari, frowning.
Vityro looked seriously confused. ‘I tried to remove the spell.’
‘And?’
‘It wouldn’t let me.’
‘What?’
‘Your telepathy seems to be… better than mine,’ said Vityro, his face contorting a little.
‘Seriously?’
‘Yeah, it’s weird isn’t it?’
Hari was breathless. He had been ASSURED that a GOD would be able to remove his spell. But now…
‘So what are you going to do?’ asked Hari.
‘Well… Have you tried turning yourself off and on again?’
‘Shut up.’
‘Sorry.’
This wasn’t what Hari was expecting at all. He had been expected a majestic, omnipotent lord over all of Our Matters, and what had he got? A man with a messy desk who couldn’t even work some decent telepathy.
‘Hey, cheer up son,’ said Vityro. ‘Being young isn’t bad at all. You get all that adrenaline that adults don’t get, and, look, you stopped yourself just before you hit puberty. That one’s a killer.’
Hari looked unconvinced,
‘OK, how about this?’ said Vityro. ‘We’ll get you world cla – no, galac – screw it, UNIVERSAL class education. Not just your telepathy, but for maths and stuff. Well, so long as you do one more little job.’
Hari looked up. ‘Another job?’
‘Yeah, there’s one more guy we found.’ Vityro leant down and opened a drawer, taking out a beige coloured file. ‘You ever heard of Glar the Defibrillated?’
The boy shook his head.
‘Well, he’s what they call a Life-Flipper – a man born with a glitchy soul. It’s a power that, after being triggered, let’s the user flip between Our Matters and the afterlife.’
‘What do you mean, “triggered”?’ asked Hari, curiously.
‘Well, the power is hereditary,’ answered Vityro. ‘It passes through generations like a genetic condition. People can go their whole lives without noticing it, because it never works until it’s triggered – by which I mean the person is exposed to seriously unhealthy amounts of raw aura.
‘How could that happen?’
‘Radiation, an old teleporter… maybe even being caught in an energy beam shot from this,’ said Vityro, as he held up his gleaming scythe.
Hari saw what he was hinting on. ‘You’re saying Glar was there when you shot Liaguo last night?’
Vityro nodded. ‘Well, done, smart boy. He was apparently working as one of my bodyguards. I don’t know, I don’t keep tabs. Anyway, this one guy, Glar, was narrowly missed by my face shot. He ran out, and a few hours later, he died.’
‘Really? Why?’
‘He came back to life a few minutes later.’
‘Uhh…’
‘He was a Life-Flipper, and I had triggered his condition. So we dug up some files, and found out that it’s very possible he has a son.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Well,’ said Vityro, grinning. ‘A good six or seven years back, Glar was good friends with Simon Trench. This was before he took over everything and dropped his social life, right? Anyway, Simon had a stepsister about Glar’s age called Elise Parsons. They went out for a bit, and then they stopped, because Simon found out. Then Elise ran away, and nine months later, she had a kid.’
Hari grinned in realisation. ‘So this boy, he’s, like, six now, and you reckon he’s a Life-Flipper too?’
Vityro grinned too. ‘Spot on, boy. We want to get hold of him and see if we can use his powers to our advantage. Think, we could communicate with the afterlife!’
‘We could talk to the dead?’
‘More than that, we could talk to the LIVING. In the afterlife, the timeline isn’t relative to ours. When someone dies, they go to the afterlife at the start of time. Essentially, every person who dies, has ever died or ever will die arrives in the afterlife at the same time?’
‘Eh?’
‘Just get the kid for us, okay?’
Vityro pulled a photograph out of the file along with an address and some rather personal information.
‘Find him, speak to him, you can tell him about his father if you want. He’s never met him as far as we know, and we don’t know his mother has told him, but, well, there you go.’
‘Uhhh… okay.’
Vityro stood up to shake Hari’s hand. ‘Thank you, boy, for all you have done for us. Never forget how valuable you are.’
Hari grinned and shook Vityro’s hand, happy to be of service.

~*~*~*~*~

The bomb had been planted, set, and activated, or fired or something. The point was that the bomb was now ticking down, and hundreds of kids and teachers had been evacuated, and nobody had even spotted Glar.
Glar allowed himself a quiet laugh to himself. Even after the catastrophic failure at the museum, he could safely say he still had it. Stepping out of the shadows of the building and into the daylight, he did a quick scan out the surrounding area. Nobody was around, so he made his way to the teleporters. He grinned as he took the lift up the Tongue Block; this was all too perfect. But just then, just as he was making his way to a teleporter to Universe City, he heard the low whizzing sound of somebody arriving.
He swore and dived straight into an empty teleporter, pressing up into the shadows. He peaked around the window of one of the doors and saw that six people had arrived. All children – four boys and two girls. Glar didn’t know it, but these five people were Al, Franky, Tiner, Mikki, Sashah and Lyle, arriving late, completely unaware that there had been bomb warnings.
What was Glar supposed to do? Should he tell them? He had left all the doors to the Core Block locked, so they SHOULDN’T be able to get in. They’d probably just realise that nobody was there and leave again… wouldn’t they? Or, in the frankly unlikely event that any of them stayed long enough to get caught in the explosion, at least they’d die quickly… wouldn’t they?
Out of Glar’s earshot, the group of six children had gone down to the ground floor of the building via the lift. Al and Psycho had broken away immediately, heading straight down to the Core Block to find Lowin. The other four had taken a right down to the Mind Block, in order to get to the Fun Room.
‘Bit quiet here,’ said Mikki.
‘Yeah,’ said Lyle.
There was silence for a bit.
‘I’m hungry,’ moaned Mikki.
‘What, didn’t you have breakfast?’
‘I did, but still…’
Tiner stopped and grabbed Mikki’s arm. He whispered something lightly into Mikki’s ear and hauled him back along the route they came, back to the Tongue Block.
‘Where are they off to?’ asked Sashah.
‘No idea,’ answered Lyle. ‘I think they might be off to find something to eat.’
‘Didn’t they have breakfast?’
‘I think they did.’
‘Pigs,’ said Sashah. They continued off in the direction of the Fun Room.
Meanwhile, Mikki and Tiner had returned to the Tongue Block.
‘What are we doing here, Tiner? We’re already pretty late.’
Tiner said nothing, as he usually did. Instead, he walked through a few rooms straight into the staff room.
‘Tiner, you know we’re gonna get done if they catch us in here,’ said Mikki. ‘I think they have CCTV.’
Tiner was apparently not in a talking mood at all, as he completely ignored what Mikki was saying and pulled open a staff cabinet. He ruffled around inside and withdrew a box of cereals.
‘You legend,’ said Mikki, grinning. He ripped the box from Tiner’s hands and threw his head back, pouring cereals into his mouth. He chewed from a bit before frowning. ‘Bit chewy.’
‘Let’s look more,’ said Tiner, quickly, before diving cupboard. Mikki shrugged.
‘They’re not actually that bad,’ he said, before turning to the back of the box. ‘Use by 27th of Airnyek… the hell?’
‘It’s a month,’ said Tiner. ‘The second… you been here a year and you don’t know how to tell the date?’
‘I didn’t NEED to un – what was that?’
They both looked up, as they had both heard the whooshing sound at the same time. Mikki stopped rustling through the box of cereals so he could hear the sound better.
‘Was that the elevator?’ asked Mikki.
Mikki placed the cereals box on the desk and they left the staff room and skulked back into the main foyer of the building, staring through the transparent glass of the lift. They recognised them immediately.
‘Al and Psycho,’ said Mikki. ‘Where are they going?’
‘We should follow them,’ said Tiner.
Mikki frowned. ‘After more breakfast.’
He headed back to the staff room, and had almost got back to his cereals when he heard the lift again.
‘God dammit,’ he said, putting the box down and leaving again. This time, he saw them running out of the building, accompanied by Tryne.
‘What the hell is going on here?’ he asked Tiner. Tiner had nothing.
Upstairs, Glar was pressed inside the teleporter, breathing heavily. He was just about to get out when those damn kids had come back, and that girl had come out, and they ran off together. Glar suspected they had found the bomb, which was supposed to go off in about five minutes. He didn’t care about their safety any more; he just wanted to get HOME.
He slid the doors open and walked silently back up the corridor, listening out for any sounds at all while at the same time searching for the teleporter to Universe City. His search was interrupted by the sound of the lift coming back up.
Bloody kids, he thought, as he considered his options. There was no time to find the teleporter – he would surely get caught before he found it, and even if he found it straight away, it wouldn’t teleport him in time without them noticing. He ran as lightly as he could to the lift, and looked the panel. He grinned when he saw the EMERGENCY STOP button on the wall. He pressed the button, but the lift didn’t stop. He pressed it harder, but still the lift persisted to climb the building. Frantic now, Glar slammed his fist into the button. It dug into the wall and got stuck, and something in the lift snapped.
Whoops, he thought.
He watched through the glass doors as the lift halted abruptly, and then disconnected from the building and fell straight down the bottom with a sickening crunch.
Glar stared for a bit, and then remembered the bomb. He ran back to the teleporters, his eye catching the one that led to Universe City Central. He tried to reassure himself, reminding himself that even if the kids had survived that fall, the bomb would still kill them. The he realised that that wasn’t very good reassurance at all.
Meanwhile, back in the Core Block, Tryne’s eyes darted over the bomb like a fly trying to avoid a flyswatter. An area the eyes returned to all too frequency was the timer, which now read “03:56” and was counting down.
‘It looks like a Sly Bomb to me,’ said Tryne. ‘Comes from STIX Enterprises. It has two batteries, both connected to the charge. If one is disconnected, the other one fires. It has motion sensors, so we can’t throw it away, and I don’t like the look of all this.’ She waved her hands over the dozens of wires littered over one side.
‘Fake wiring?’ asked Al.
‘Almost definitely,’ she answered. ‘We have no hope of defusing this thing in time. We should just leave as soon as possible.
Al’s face was a maelstrom of expressions. He didn’t know what to think of leaving the bomb behind and letting the Facility blowing to pieces. But if they tried to defuse it and fail…’
He snapped back into focus when Sashah and Lyle ran in.
‘We couldn’t find ANYONE,’ yelled Sashah down the corridor. ‘It’s like the place is des – what’s that?’
She was pointing at the device in Tryne’s hands. Al pulled her away and she let go quickly. ‘We should go, now,’ he said. ‘Not much time.’
‘What’s going on?’ Lyle asked as everyone ran out of the door, in the direction of the Tongue Block.
‘It’s a bomb,’ Al explained. ‘Seriously, we have like three minutes to get to those teleporters, or we’re all gonna die.’
On the ground floor of the Tongue Block, Mikki rubbed his head.
‘Owwww…’ lamented Mikki. ‘That SERIOUSLY hurt. I think I might have brain damage.’
Tiner, who had survived the fall relatively well, laughed at this.
‘Something funny, little man?’ snarled Mikki. ‘Ah well, let’s just get to our lessons. Looks like nobody’s gonna be using those teleporters for the rest of the day.’




~~~ CHAPTER NINE ~~~


SERIOUS BUSINESS


IT WAS STRANGE THAT ABSOLUTELY NOBODY IN ONE OF THE FINEST COMBAT ACADEMY IN THE WHOLE UNIVERSE HAD ANY IDEA WHAT THE HELL WAS GOING ON.

Just as Tryne, Psycho, Lyle, Sashah and Al were leaving the Core Block to get to the Tongue Block, Mikki and Tiner were leaving the Tongue Block to get to the Core Block. Mikki and Tiner slowed down when the saw the others. Nobody else did.
‘Hey, where are you going?’ yelled Mikki as the other group sped past them. He ran after them, yelling, with Tiner chasing with him. ‘We’re REALLY late, ya know!’
‘No time,’ Al shouted over his shoulder. ‘There’s a bomb, we need to leave!’
‘We can’t leave, the teleporters are broken!’
They came to an abrupt halt.
‘WHAT?’ yelled Psycho, even though he no longer needed to as Mikki and Tiner had caught up with them.
‘I mean, the elevator broke,’ said Mikki, pointing at the Tongue Block where the precious teleporters were located. ‘We were going up there and then it just stopped, and then fell straight down like the cables were cut.’
‘Only ancient elevators have cables,’ scoffed Tiner.
‘Shut up, you. Anyway, it fell right down and I banged my head. Why did you say we need to leave?’
‘There’s a bomb,’ said Al, getting sick of hearing the words “There’s a bomb” being said so much in one hour. ‘We need to leave, right now. We have to take the stairs.’
‘Nobody uses STAIRS to go up floors any more,’ said Lyle.
‘WHY?’ yelled Mikki. ‘Why the HELL don’t they have stairs?’
‘Because the elevator’s never break these days…’
‘Oh, thank God,’ he said sarcastically. ‘I must’ve IMAGINED just free-falling about four storeys in a metal box’
‘It was more like one or two,’ said Tiner.
‘Shut up, you.’
‘So,’ said Al, trying to take control of the situation, ‘what now?’
Nobody spoke.
‘We try and defuse it,’ said Tryne.
‘You said it wasn’t possible,’ said Psycho. ‘And there’s not much time now, is there?’
‘It’s our only chance,’ said Al, ‘and even if it doesn’t work, well… we’re gonna die anyway.’
‘Aren’t you cheerful,’ said Psycho.
‘Ah, stop being such a hypocrite; you’re always the pessimistic one.’
‘We should probably get going,’ said Sashah. ‘The bomb had three minutes left on it when we left.’
Mikki looked up at her. ‘What?’
‘The timer said that we only had three minutes left, so we –’
‘Then let’s GO!’ yelled Mikki, scooping people together and pushing them towards the bomb in his muscular arms. He ran with them, and after they were running urgently at their own pace he sped up in front of them. ‘Those three minutes are probably almost up by now!’
They reached the doors. Even though Al had already broken the lock, Mikki felt that he didn’t have time to open it so he delivered a firm kick to the top of the left door, snapping the hinge straight off. They ran inside, where Mikki was about to smash his foot into the bomb.
‘WAIT!’ yelled Tryne. ‘It has motion sensors, don’t KICK it!’
Mikki froze and looked down at the bomb. The others crowded around him and saw the timer, which now read “00:38”. Mikki backed away and assumed a position near the back of the crowd.
‘Get out of my way,’ ordered Tryne hastily, slipping to the front of the crowd. She stepped over it and crouched down, examining the mass of wires.
‘Al, get over here.’
Al was surprised to have his name mentioned, but he leapt over the bomb and joined Tryne in the staring contest against the bomb. Tryne was clearly thinking about something, but Al didn’t know what.
‘Guys, you gonna hurry up?’ said Mikki. ‘We’re getting bored here.’
‘I recognise this bomb,’ said Tryne. ‘I know how it works… I think. Very new, very hard to defuse, but not impossible.’ She waved her hand over the large number of wires that covered one side of the bomb. ‘Al, all of these dummy wires link up to adjacent wires. Two of them are connected at opposite sides. You have to find which two these are, and quickly, bec –’
‘Found them’ said Al, lighting gripping two wires, one in each hand, between his thumb and index finger.
Tryne blinked and checked. He did indeed have the right ones.
‘How… anyway we need to cut both wires at the same time. Got anything sharp?’
Everyone rummaged in their pockets. Al found something cold and metal, and withdrew it to find the strange device that Mr. Mort had given him all those weeks back. He stared at it, and then he stared passed it to see that the timer had reached “00:18”. He hastily put it away. Psycho and Lyle frowned, unable to find anything. Sashah withdrew a mirror, which Lyle grabbed and smashed on the floor. Sashah screamed and jumped back while Lyle picked up a large shard of glass.
‘Here,’ she said to Tryne. ‘Will that work?’
‘Sure,’ she answered. ‘What else?’
‘How about this?’ asked Tiner, pulling out a hunting knife.
‘… OK,’ said Tryne. ‘Thanks Tiner.’ She grasped hold of the knife in her left hand and the glass shard in her right, positioning them directly above the wires Al had found. ‘Thanks guys, now stand well back…’
Al ran backwards and the crowd shuffled back. He ran around to the back of the crowd.
‘Why’d you have a hunting knife, Tiner?’ asked Psycho.
‘Never leave home without it,’ he replied.
‘Shut up, guys,’ bellowed Tryne. ‘This is serious, now.’
‘This is serious business,’ said Psycho.
‘This business is seriously serious,’ added Mikki.
‘SHUT UP!’
They fell silent as the timer counted down to the last few seconds…
00:06…
00:05…
00:04…
‘Um, Tryne?’ muttered Al weakly.
00:03…
00:02…
Tryne cut the wires.

~*~*~*~*~

Hari paid the guy driving the taxi with some Earth money he had brought along, though the guy looked confused when Hari gave him the £10 note. He rummaged through his bag, in which he had several means of currency, along with some passports with his pseudonym of “Hari Twibbet”, the name which he was getting so used to now. Hari racked his memory, trying to remember what currency they used in Kenya. He tried a few of the old American dollars that they used before the Anglo-Americano Empire was formed and Euros, with no luck. Then he tried to a bag full of diamonds, which Hari was certain was the currency of at least one equatorial country. The taxi driver gave him a funny look, and then placed the bag very carefully into the passenger seat and drove off. Hari hoped that he hadn’t underpaid him.
He walked into the hospital, which looked drastically different to the hospital that Frank Galvini had been in when Hari had found him. The walls were still white and gleaming, but they were somewhat musty, as if nobody had cleaned them for ages, because they were never dirty. The rooms were the same size, but the content was organised in such a way that Hari felt as if this hospital was more cramped, despite there being far fewer people.
He wandered through the hallways, searching for the correct ward, flashing his ID card whenever a member of security was in his way. The further he got to his destination, the more he heard screams of agony, violent coughing, and on occasions eerie silence from occupied wards. Finally he reached the ward of Daniel Parsons.
He swung open the door and saw the boy resting silently on the hospital bed. The boy looked young and innocent – a slightly tan, a few freckles, long black hair. He looked nothing like his father Glar, with his sharp features and short hair. He looked nothing like the son of the Life-Flipper.
The boy stirred. Hari looked around sharply to check that nobody else was around him when the boy woke up. When he was certain that nobody was approaching, he woke the boy.
‘Hey, Danny,’ said Hari softly. ‘Time to wake up.’
The six year old’s eyes flickered opened to the bright white light of the hospital ward. He squinted while his eyes adjusted.
‘Who are you?’ asked the child, with no fear in his voice, just mild curiosity.
‘My name isn’t that important,’ Hari replied, weaving telepathy into his voice. ‘What’s important is that I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to talk.’
‘What do you want to talk about?’ asked Danny.
‘How about the reason you’re in hospital?’
Danny looked around himself, examining the surrounding walls, before looking back at Hari. ‘Well, my mum said that I kept on going to heaven,’ said Danny. ‘She said it was something in my jeans.’
Hari nodded, understanding. The Life-Flipper gene could be threatening in children.
‘What’s your mum’s name?’ asked Hari.
Danny gave him a funny look. ‘Why do you want to know?’
‘It’s OK,’ replied Hari, using some telepathy once again to force Danny to trust him. ‘I just want to know, there’s nothing wrong with that.’
Danny’s face still betrayed scepticism, but it was eventually shadowed under Hari’s artificial trust. ‘My mum is called Elise,’ he said. ‘But I’m always supposed to call her Mummy.’
‘Elise Parsons?’
‘Yeah.’
‘What about your dad?’
Danny looked uncomfortable. ‘My mum says he was like a ninja, but her step-brother told him to go away, and we had to move away. That’s why she took me on holiday to Kenya, because my dad tried to come back. I don’t know what he looks like.’
Hari sat on his bed, nodding. He felt sympathy for the boy: his life was being torn apart at childhood just because of his family. Hari’s family was rich – he was unable to imagine what this would be like. Hari decided to steer the conversation into the right place, while trying to be cheerful.
‘You’re the son of a ninja?’ said Hari.
‘My mum said that he was really…’ said Danny, stopping to think. ‘Really STEALTHY.’
‘Do you think you have any of his talent?’
‘I don’t know… My mum says I’m like her but not like Dad.’
Hari paused for a long, possible for dramatic impact, possibly to give him time to think.
‘I reckon you ARE talented,’ said Hari at last.
‘Really?’
‘Of course,’ said Hari, grinning. ‘You’re the son of a ninja, that’s pretty cool.’
‘You really think I’m cool?’
‘Yeah, definitely,’ said Hari. ‘If you were my age, we could have a right laugh together. Hey,’ – he paused to withdrew one of his cards out of his pocket – ‘Come to one of these meetings. You get to meet some other really talented kids your ages; I’ve already met some of them. There’s a really good musician and sports players and an artist. I think you’ll fit in.’
‘But I’m not a musician or – what was the second thing?’
‘You’re a good kid though,’ reassured Hari as best as he could. ‘You’ll make friends easily. Come along to a meeting, they’re on 3:30 every Tuesday.’
Hari got up to leave, and opened his mouth to wrap up the conversation. Then he realised he couldn’t think of anything, so he just walked for the door.
‘Wait!’
Hari twisted around.
‘What’s your name?’
‘My name is R – My name is Hari,’ he said. He swore at himself in his head – he had nearly given himself away. He was almost disarmed by a six year old. If this kid was his own age, Danny could probably give him a run for his money in an argument.
‘Will you be at the meeting?’
Hari’s face strained under Danny’s desperate expression. How could he just say that he wouldn’t be there – and then again, how could he lie?
‘I might pop in from time to time,’ said Hari, weaving in telepathy forcing Danny to think that even if Hari didn’t show up, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Hari grabbed the door handle and swung it open. ‘See you, Danny,’ he said, before leaving the boy to his lonely ward surrounded by people screaming and dying. Hari felt a pang of guilt that he wouldn’t get to see the boy again.

~*~*~*~*~

Al blinked and saw nothing but white.
This was a little worrying. He jerked upon realising that he had just woken up, and then banged his head on the floor, realising that must’ve passed out on the marble floor. He repeatedly blinked, trying to drain the whiteness from his eyesight. When the blinding colour began to flee to the periphery of his vision, he saw a small metal plate lying by his head. He reached out and grabbed it, before dropping it, as it was extremely hot. He pushed it into reading distance with his arm and read the writing engraved upon it:
“THIS EXPLOSION WAS BROUGHT TO YOU BY STIX ENTERPRISES”
He sat up and saw the unconscious bodies of Psycho, Tiner, Lyle, Sashah and Mikki.
He grinned and let out a small laugh of relief. Everyone was OK… Tryne had defused the bomb –
A heavy thought weighed down on him suddenly. If the bomb had been defused, why was everyone unconscious?
He slowly twisted his head around and opened his mouth in horror. There was a crater in the ground about two metres deep and about four metres in diameter. There were two men in overalls: one was holding a cloth stained with a green substance in it, talking to the other who was mopping a dark red substance off of the marble walls with a wet wipe. A great mass of various thoughts and questions struck Al’s mind, one of which escaped through his mouth.
‘That was not a five-mile radius.’
The guy with the green-stained cloth turned on Al and approached hastily, extending the cloth. ‘Damn kids, won’t stay sedated,’ mumbled the man.
‘Wait!’ yelled Al, backing away. ‘What are you doing?’
The man stared at Al and decided that there was no point in trying to sedate the boy now that he had seen the situation, so he explained. ‘They found a bomb, so we were supposed to go in after it had blown up and investigate,’ said the man with the cloth. ‘And what do we find? A busted elevator – which we had to fix, mind you - five kids groaning on the floor, a tiny crater and what used to be a person all over the walls.’
Al already knew it, but hearing the words come out of the worker’s mouth in such a matter-of-fact tone made it seem horribly realistic.
‘So me and my pal here,’ – he pointed at the man cleaning the walls, who waved – ‘had to come in and clean up. We had to put you kids under while we cleaned up – didn’t want you getting any wrong ideas.’
So the bomb HAD gone off, thought Al, and Tryne was caught in it. But why was the explosion so SMALL?
Al thought back to what Tryne had done… she tried to cut both batteries at the same time…
Maybe she had delayed so very slightly that the explosion was about to blow the place apart, but was then stopped? Was that even possible?
Al looked around at his still unconscious friends. He wondered how much time had passed since the bomb had gone off…
‘I need to make a phone call.’
The two men stared as Al pulled himself off of his feet and wandered down the marble hallway. When he had first arrived, the halls looked so marvellous, so majestic – they made him feel like he was extremely fortunate to be walking in them. Now, though, he felt like he was walking down the scene of some gruesome crime. The white walls seemed less welcoming and more like a long trap.
Al shook the foolish thoughts from his head and walked faster. His brain was unique – he had learned to fully suppress feelings so that he could think clearer. He considered emotions a distraction – except, perhaps, when he was turning them into aura, which he found to be increasingly easy in the last couple of weeks. After all, it was nothing more than controlling feelings, and that was what Al was skilled at. When he let his thoughts carry him away, though, he got worried. That was when people slipped up.
He slipped into Room C-4, which was empty as before. Out of his pocket he withdrew the Omnifact, and entered the contacts list. He tapped on the name “Lowin”.
‘Al?’ said the voice of Lowin, after he picked up. ‘You made it out OK?’
‘I am,’ said Al. ‘So is everyone else… except…’
‘Except who?’
‘Tryne came in late and she tried to defuse it… but she couldn’t, and…’
‘Jesus.’
‘Yeah.’
‘What now?’
‘I’m going to call Mr. Mort,’ said Al, realising that he should definitely be informed.
‘Mr. Mort’s Omnifact ID is hidden.’
‘Maybe for YOU.’
‘You know it?’
Even from fifty miles away, Al could see Lowin’s bewildered expression.
‘Yeah,’ said Al. ‘Took a bit of guesswork, but I got it in the end.’
‘Can you tell me?’
‘Oh dear, look at the time, I have to go, bye!’
Al cut the connection before Lowin could retort, grinning as he imagined Lowin’s angry expression. He hit the return button and slid through the list of contacts on the Omnifact, and slipped into the menu of contacts he had added himself, instead of the ones that had been pre-set. He found the one labelled “MORT” and dialled it.
After two and a half rings, Mr. Mort picked up. There was a long pause.
How did you get this number?’
Al grinned, blissfully knowing that even Mr. Mort couldn’t see a grin from the other end of a phone line. ‘Just a little creative guesswork. I’m sure that I’m not breaking any rules, otherwise you would’ve put up some security, am I right?’
Another pause.
‘Your logic is impeccable as always, my boy. To what may I honour this call?’
‘The bomb.’
‘Ah.’
‘Our teleporter was late, and we arrived after all the warnings had gone out. Then the elevator broke, so we couldn’t get out. Tryne managed to limit its radius to just a few metres but…’
‘I see,’ said Mr. Mort, clearly understanding the circumstances. ‘Very unfortunate. Very brave, but… quite stupid.’
‘She saved the Facility, sir.’
‘For which I am very grateful, have no doubt about that. Say, did you figure out who put the bomb there?’
‘Tryne said it came from STIX Enterprises.’
One last pause, considerably longer than its predecessors.
‘I see. Thank you for informing me of this,’ finished Mr. Mort, ‘though I insist you do not use my personal Omnifact next time. That is reserved for my friends and family.’
‘Your friends and -?’ Al stopped himself before he accidentally got into serious trouble. ‘Of course sir. See you tomorrow.’
Al lowered his index finger to cut the connection, but Mr. Mort got there first. Al laughed at this, and then left the room to check on the others.

~*~*~*~*~

Mr. Mort cut the connection on the Omnifact just before Al did and laughed.
‘Sir,’ said Matt, who was sat opposite Mr. Mort on the small coffee table, ‘why did you do THAT?’
‘For fun,’ said Mr. Mort. He really looked the part – a large, imposing man dressed in a full business suit, with his completely bald head reflecting the artificial light from the coffee shop ceiling. He slipped the Omnifact back into his pocket. ‘So, what’s the upshot of all this?’
‘Well,’ said Matt, looking as if he were being tested, ‘We’re going to need to fill a large hole in the Core Block, but it shouldn’t cause any major problems, and we should start getting people back in by tomorrow.’
‘And?’
‘And… we know that STIX has tried to blow up the Facility, which means that we need to stop him, somehow.’
‘And?’
‘And… I don’t know, sir, sorry.’
Mr. Mort grinned. He liked this game.
‘And, what’s your JOB?’
‘Human Res – OH!’ Matt jerked when he realised the blatantly obvious. ‘We need a replacement for Tryne!’
‘Exactly. Got anyone in mind?’
‘Well, there is ONE person who springs immediately to mind…’

~*~*~*~*~

A full term had now passed since the Earthling’s recruitment. It was Christmas time back on Earth, a place they had not seen for three months. It had been over a month since the “incident” involving the bomb, which was now somewhat forgotten, pushed to the back of the children’s minds by other things, such as their increasingly more fun Aura Studies lessons, and their increasingly non-mathematical Maths lessons.
	Five years ago, a boy had recruited the Earthlings to YI. After that, he also recruited Daniel Parsons, whom, he regrettably, never saw again. A few years after that he got five more people on board, their names being Michael, Kat, Alex, Robbie and Tabby, and after that he got the twins. Personally, out of the ones he recruited years after YI started, he thought Michael was the only actually talented one.
Today, all these years later, on his bed, sat the boy formally known pseudonymously as Hari Twibbet. The boy was now sixteen, yet still trapped in the body of an eleven year old, which must’ve definitely had a severe effect on him. He didn’t look older; he just looked as if he had gone through five years of fashion trends. He often isolated himself in his room, because it was his own room and nobody else’s.
His sister walked in.
‘What do YOU want?’ asked the boy. She was seventeen now and, unlike her brother, she had a body that matched her age. Their parents had difficulty explaining to other people about the age difference, seeing as how easily their pre-teenage son would stand up to his seventeen year old sister.
‘Phone call,’ said the girl in a bored tone of voice. ‘From your boyfriend or something.’
He took the phone, and recognised the phone number straight away.
‘It’s Vityro!’ he yelled excitement. ‘How’s my hair?’
‘It’s a phone call,’ sighed the girl, and she wandered out of the room.
‘Yeah, whatever. Hello?’ he said into the phone.
‘Hello, “Hari”,’ said the unmistakable voice of the God of Life.
‘I haven’t been called “Hari” in years, you know,’ said the boy who wasn’t called Hari.
‘Well, I don’t really care that much. I’m here to offer you an opportunity.’
The boy paused. ‘More recruitment?’
Vityro laughed. ‘No, that was wrapped up years ago. I’m here to offer you a place at the academy they now attend.’
The boy frowned. ‘But they’re all kids.’
‘And so are you – a sixteen year old, trapped in the body of an eleven year old. All the other children had mind acceleration so that they also have the maturity of sixteen year olds, so you would fit right in.’
Hari – or rather the boy no longer called Hari – opened his mouth to make a comment about “the maturity of sixteen year olds”, but then he stopped himself. ‘Why are you asking me?’
‘It’s an academy for the talented,’ said Vityro. ‘You recruited a few of them; you know what their skills are like. I think your telepathy would fit in well.’
He considered this. Five years on from when he had accidentally frozen his own age, he was now pretty much the best telepath on the planet, and probably outside of the planet aswell.
‘And besides,’ continued Vityro, ‘you’ll get to say hi to some old friends. Alan Newton, Frank Galvini, Danny Parsons…’
‘OK,’ said the boy his mind now set. ‘I’ll do it.’
‘Great,’ said Vityro. ‘Just pop into the Facility tomorrow at 8:00 or 9:00 or something, I don’t know where it is, Mr. Mort and Matt have the details.’
‘Great,’ he said.
‘One last thing.’
‘Hmm?’
‘You should really comb your hair.’






PART TWO




~~~ CHAPTER TEN ~~~


ENTER RIX


EVERYBODY UNANIMOUSLY AGREED THAT IT WAS INDEED ABOUT TIME A NEW KID SHOWED UP, BUT THEY WEREN’T EXPECTING SOMEONE THIS GOOD.

‘I heard there’s a new kid,’ said Well, as he slipped an aura glove onto his hand.
‘Yeah,’ said Al, while he put on a protective helmet. ‘I already checked out his profile earlier. He’s called Rix, and he does telepathy. Ow.’ Al withdrew his hand from the strap round the back of the helmet. ‘It twanged at my head.’
‘Why, may I ask, do you need face protection?’ asked Well cautiously.
Al grinned and held up his aura glove. He cleared his mind for a split second and the glove started turning slightly red.
‘Jesus, Al,’ remarked Well. ‘I never noticed it before, but you’re pretty hot.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment,’ said Al, as he went over to a draw and withdrew a pole of metal. He pressed the pole onto the glove and began to use the exceedingly hot glove to bend the metal pole. ‘So, what’s the new kid like?’
‘From what Mach told me, he managed to freeze his age five years ago.’
‘He did what now?’ asked Al blankly, as he was focused on tying to large metal pole into a knot. ‘Froze his age?’
‘Yeah, apparently with telepathy you can say “Never grow up” into a mirror or something and it actually works.’
‘Cool, I think I might try that someday.’
‘Well, this kid Rix is sixteen, but he still looks eleven. He also sounds like a class clown, which is an outrage, because that’s my title.’
‘Whatever you want,’ said Al, placing the knot of metal onto the table. ‘Well, your glove is sparking.’
Well looked down at his glove. The task was to master the control of heat with an aura glove. Well’s glove was giving off electrical sparks. He frowned.
‘I don’t think it’s supposed to do that,’ said Well.
Al stared at the glove. ‘You sure you’re using the right aura?’
‘Yeah, happiness.’
‘Happiness?’
‘Yeah, happiness. You make heat with happiness, right?’
‘No, happiness is electricity.’
‘So, heat is…’
‘Heat is confidence.’
‘What?’
‘Confidence. You make heat with confidence.’
‘Happiness and confidence is the same thing.’
‘Maybe for YOU, Well.’
Well unstrapped the glove from his hand and threw it onto the table.
‘Ah, I can’t do this,’ he said. ‘You do it, you’re immense at aura.’
Al grinned, and then tried to recover a straight face. ‘Well, I’m not THAT good.’
‘Sure you are, you broke down that door.’
‘What?’
‘Like, two months ago. Psycho told me you smashed down a locked door.’
‘I didn’t SMASH it,’ retorted Al. ‘I just broke the hinge.’
‘Same difference,’ said Well, waving the retort away. ‘Point is that you’re good at it and you have to do my Aura homework. This one’s quite hard.’
‘No, Well, going into town and trying to find a shop that sells metal poles was hard. This is easy.’
‘Fine,’ said Well, indignantly. ‘I’ll do it myself.’
Well slipped the glove back onto his hand and closed his eyes. When he opened them, the glove was giving off electric sparks again.
‘Ah, damn,’ he said. ‘Screw it; I’ll just deal with the detention.’
‘You’re using confidence, right?’
Well was silent for a few seconds.
‘I’m gonna have to make a mental note here,’ he said after the pause. Right, heat is confidence, electricity is happiness… what’s light?’
‘Light and electricity is the same thing.’
‘Don’t lie, child.’
‘No, really.’
‘Fine,’ said Well. ‘What about movement?’
‘Motion is done by understanding how it works.’
‘Well, I’ll never be doing that one. What’s the last one?’
‘Fire and explosions,’ said Al, ‘and it’s controlled with anger.’
‘Sounds fun.’
‘It’s extremely hard.’
‘You’ve done it before.’
‘By accident.’
‘Whatever,’ said Well, unstrapping and removing the aura glove once more. ‘Oooohhh, I’m vibrating.’
Al raised an eyebrow while Well pulled his Omnifact out of his pocket. He tapped a button and stared at it for a while looking confused. Then he twisted it upside-down and his eyes lit up in realisation.
‘Ah,’ said Well. ‘I do believe Psycho Franky has sent me one of those new-fangled “text messages” that all the kids are using these days.’
‘What’s it say?’ asked Al.
Well showed the screen to Al.
COM 2 C4 QUIK RIX IS THERE U MISSIN AL THE FUN!
‘Didn’t know Psycho knew HOW to text,’ commented Well, ‘let alone text-TALK.’
‘“Missing all the fun”?’ said Al. ‘Wonder what that’s about?’
‘I dunno, maybe I should send hi – oh, hello.’
Well tapped a button and new message popped onscreen.
‘Another text?’ asked Al.
‘I’m social ladybird,’ said Well. ‘What’s this one say?’
WUU2? ME & NEW KID HAVIN TELEPATHY FITE
‘That was just enigmatic,’ said Well. ‘Do you think we should leave?’
‘Yeah,’ answered Al. ‘I’m really curious as to what a “telepathy fite” is now.’
The pair of them left the comfort of the Aura Studies classroom and went outside of the Mind Block. On the way to Room C-4, the bell for morning registration went off.
‘Oh dear,’ said Al. ‘I guess the telepathy fight’s over now.’
‘Yeah,’ agreed Well. ‘I can’t see Tutor letting them have any kind of fight while he’s there.’
Al nodded. Before the start of lessons, the staff would all relax in their staff room, but the moment the bell goes, the teachers would disperse to their various classrooms. The bell had become something of warning to students to stop messing around in the classrooms, in case a teacher walked in on them.
Al and Well entered the Core Block through the newly repaired doors and made their way to Room C-4.
‘It’s a bit noisy in there,’ said Al, commenting on the amount of laughter and shouting emanating from the walls. They reached Room C-4 and slipped inside.
Al stared as he watched their tutor, whom they called Tutor as nobody seemed to know his name, as he juggled knife with his four arms.
‘What the…’ said Well, trailing off.
The class were out of their seats cheering, laughing, and jeering. Some of them were sat on tables, some against the seats at the front, but most of them were crowded in a dense huddle around the back.
‘Well, this isn’t what you expect to see at morning registration,’ mumbled Al. ‘Any idea what the hell is going on?’
‘Not the foggiest,’ said Well. ‘Must be our new friend Rix, whoever he is.’
‘I don’t see any new faces,’ said Al. ‘Perhaps he’s in the middle of the huddle…’
And then a new voice, one that Al couldn’t pinpoint on anyone in particular, yet one he somehow recognised, spoke out.
‘Hey guys, can some of you move? I can’t see properly.’
The huddle obeyed and the people at the front split away to each side.
‘What a charming young fellow,’ said Well. ‘Let’s get a proper look.’ He tugged on Al’s arm and led him just in front of the knife-juggling to get a look through the gap in the crowd. Al’s eyes widened as he recognised the face of Hari Twibbet.
The face hadn’t changed since Al had first met him five years ago, except that one of his eyes had a star painted around it, and his clothes had changed drastically; he was wearing a royal purple suit with a bow tie, and on his hands were white gloves. Perched upon his head he wore a tall purple-rimmed top hat, which remained fixed upon his skull even though he had it tilted at a forty five degree angle. On his face was an expression that combined boredom and irritation.
‘Hey you two, what did I JUS – Wait…’ Rix’s, or perhaps Hari’s face contorted in concentration. ‘Is that – ALAN?’
Al stared. ‘Hi there, Hari. The years have been kind to you.’
Rix stood up and stepped around the tables to reach Al and Well. Behind them, Tutor spontaneously passed out, dropping knifes all over the floor.
‘It’s Rix now… Hari was just a fake identity, but anyway… I’ve just been speaking to Franky, and Justine, and Mikki, and Will Mach…’ Rix grinned. ‘I can’t believe you’re all here!’ He raised his arms dramatically, and then gave Al a big hug that knocked the wind out of his lungs.
Well put his hand up to his mouth and gave out a little cough, as if he were clearing his throat.
Rix twisted around to see Well stood there. He focused for a second.
‘Hullo,’ said Well.
Rix stared harder for about seven more seconds, and then Al could’ve sworn he’d seen a light bulb switch on above Rix’s head.
‘Danny?!? I didn’t recognise you; you cut all that hair off! How are you?’
‘Yuck, no. My name is Well now.’
Rix looked confused. ‘Why Well?’
‘As in “Well Haider”.’
‘I don’t get it.’
‘It’s an English colloquialism,’ explained Well. ‘And you’re not from Earth, are you now?’ Well prodded at Rix in the belly.
‘Nah, I’m from Bishill,’ answered Rix. ‘LOVELY countryside county.’
‘Don’t really rich people live in Bishill?’ commented Al.
Rix raised an eyebrow. ‘Is the immaculate suit not enough proof for you?’
Al raised his hands in defence. ‘Sorry, just asking.’
‘It’s alright,’ said Well. ‘I think he just likes showing off his bling.’
Rix laughed. ‘My suit is not “bling”.’ He pulled up on a golden chain around his neck and revealed an unusual medallion which composed of one golden sphere, engraved with the Yeryerskah symbol for the number “8”, and two smaller golden spheres with the symbol for the number “1” engraved on. The two smaller spheres appeared to be connected to the larger sphere, as they moved with it, despite having no visible connection. Each sphere had a very thin layer of some unknown rippling and slightly bluish substance hovering around it, gently flowing eternally around the surface of the spheres.
‘Sexy,’ said Well. ‘Where’d you get that?’
‘My dad gave it to me,’ answered Rix. ‘Something like a Good Luck present. I think he bought it off your dad, actually.’
Well knotted his eyebrows. ‘My dad? Rix, I don’t know who my dad IS.’
‘Ahhhohhhh.’
Rix suddenly looked very alarmed.
Well stepped forwards a bit. ‘Hari, or Rix, or Sophie or whatever your name is now, how much do you know about my dad?’
Rix looked cornered, so he relaxed himself. ‘Vityro told me a load of stuff about you when I recruited you.’
‘Like what?’
‘Well, I know your dad was called Glar the Defibrillated…’
‘Ah, he has a good sense in names too?’
‘… and he’s a Life-Flipper aswell.’
‘Hang on,’ said Al. ‘Wasn’t Glar in the news a few months ago?’
‘Yeah,’ said Rix. ‘Robbed the Museum of Divine History, stole Myrano’s crown, went a bit nuts and burnt the place down and killed eleven people.’
‘He sounds just lovely,’ said Well. ‘He should take me fishing some time.’
‘Nah, Glar’s a man of action,’ said Rix. ‘He’s highly trained in stealth and evasion.’ Rix grinned. ‘You’re the son of a ninja, you are.’
‘Rix?’ said Al.
‘Hm?’
‘Have you got Liaguo’s medallion around your neck?’
Rix looked down at his medallion. ‘You mean the God of Water? He died years ago; his medallion was blown to pieces when Vityro blew his face off. This one’s a replica.’
Al squinted at the rippling surface off the medallion. ‘You sure? The forger must’ve done a good job.’
‘Yeah,’ said Rix. ‘Glar was a collector. He was one of the guys who believed the old Sixty Percent myth.’
‘What?’ asked Al, now quite confused.
‘You haven’t heard? There’s an old legend that says “If you unite all three of the Gods’ symbols, you’re 60% of the way there”.’
‘60% of the way to WHERE?’
‘I dunno,’ said Rix, shrugging as he put the medallion back under his clothing. ‘It’s a pointless old myth.’
‘What’s a Life-Flipper?’ asked Well.
‘Hm?’
‘You said it earlier, you said Glar was a Life-Flipper. I have no idea what that is.’
Rix’s mouth rotated slightly into a curious expression. ‘You don’t already know?’
‘No, why should I?’
‘Well, you’re one too…’
Well stared. Rix sighed.
‘A Life-Flipper is somebody with the power to temporary visit the afterlife.’
‘Oh,’ said Well.
Everyone who was listening (which, Al noticed as he looked around, was a surprisingly large amount) turned to face Well.
‘I wondered what those recurring dreams were about,’ said Well.
‘The dreams in the white space?’ asked Al.
‘Yeah. They’ve been going for ages, ever since… ever since we teleported from the moon.’
Al nodded. ‘I remember. You passed out and Matt said you had no pulse.’
‘And I dreamed that I was in a completely white place. I keep on dreaming about it, and the more I visit it the more… lucid it becomes.’
‘Yeah…’ said Rix. ‘Yeah, they’re not dreams, they’re real.’
‘That’s pretty creepy, actually,’ said Well. ‘I DID wonder how I kept living after randomly passing out and dying. Good to know we solved that little puzzle.’
The bell sounded over all of the Facility once more. Everyone knew by second nature now that this was the sign that their first lesson was about to commence.
Al and the others stood up. ‘Time for –’ He paused momentarily. ‘I have no idea what we have first.’ He looked at Well, who shrugged.
‘I’ll check,’ announced Rix, who pulled out his new shiny Omnifact. He navigated through the Yeryerskah menus and settings with ease, and pulled up the day’s timetable.
‘First, we have… Maths. Wow, this unique education was almost worth it.’
‘Ah, we don’t really do much Maths in our Maths lessons,’ clarified Al. ‘It’s more like escaping from handcuffs, planning heists, those kind of everyday skills.’
Rix raised an eyebrow and then returned to his Omnifact. ‘Anyway, we have it in Room C-4, which is… right here. That’s nice. Lesson Two… Aura Studies in Room S-3. Then we have morning break.’
‘I won’t be here for break,’ said Well. ‘I’m gonna have Aura detention.’
‘Oh, damn,’ said a voice from the crowd. Al looked around, and Psycho and Mach joined the trio. ‘I forgot about that homework,’ said Psycho.
‘Looks like we’ll have a detention together then,’ said Well, grinning. ‘We should get in our proper seats… what’re we gonna do about him?’ Well gestured towards Tutor, who was still lying on the floor, surrounded by knifes.
‘Ah, yeah,’ said Rix. ‘Yeah, that might get me in some trouble later.’
‘Telepathy?’ asked Al.
‘Telepathy,’ answered Rix. ‘I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m quite good at that.
‘He’s not kidding,’ said Mach, whom Al realised was rubbing his arm as if it had been bruised earlier. ‘He got into my mind earlier, it wasn’t fun.’
‘Maybe from YOUR point of view,’ retorted Rix, before turning back to Tutor. ‘Yeah, we need to do something about you.’
‘Can you mess up his memory?’ asked Psycho.
Rix snapped his fingers. ‘Franky, you genius. OK…’ Rix knelt down on Tutor and placed his fingers on Tutor’s forehead. He closed his eyes, and for a second it looked like Rix was going to pass out, but then he stood up straight again. ‘All done.’
Well stared. ‘Seriously?’
‘Mhm. I just put in a little telepathy spell to wake him up in about five minutes and forget ever meeting me.’
‘A what now?’
Mach rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t you LISTEN in Telepathy lessons?’
‘No, should I?’
Mach sighed. ‘There are two types of telepathy. There’s conscious telepathy, which lets you place thoughts into people’s minds, and then subconscious telepathy, also known as telepathy spells, and they let you put a lasting effect on the inner workings of someone’s head.’
‘K,’ said Well. ‘Conscious telepathy’s what he did to you, right?’
‘Painfully,’ Mach added.
‘He was asking for it,’ said Rix, grinning. ‘He told me he was the best at telepathy here.’
‘I can charm people when I want to,’ mumbled Mach.
‘Ah, you exaggerate,’ said Well.
‘No, we don’t,’ said Rix. ‘You weren’t here; you were off busy not doing your homework or something.’
‘You can’t BRUISE someone with telepathy,’ scoffed Well. Well raised his hand to his face and slapped himself.
Everyone stared at Well’s hand, including Well, except for Rix, who was grinning slyly.
‘That was strange,’ mumbled Well. ‘Did you just make me slap me? I don’t like it when people do that, Rixxyboy.’
Rix didn’t answer. He just said, ‘Well, looks like we should just wait here for Maths to start now, then.’ Rix walked over to a seat far away from Well. ‘If you don’t mind, I think I’ll just go sit over there, just in case somebody who’s a bit upset about being slapped by himself tries to retaliate.’
Mach looked at Well seriously, as if to say Don’t do it, idiot, but Well wasn’t listening to reason. He stood up and confronted Rix.
‘NOBODY,’ yelled Well. ‘NOBODY slaps me with my own hand.’
Well advanced on Rix, but then he sharply changed direction and slammed his face into the wall. ‘Argh…’ he said, covering his face in his hands, doubling over in pain.
Rix grinned. He hadn’t even moved, he just remained relaxed in his seat. ‘Watch where you’re walking, Welly.’
‘You… whore-monkey!’ yelled Well. Psycho’s face took on a look a look of surprise.
‘He must be upset,’ Psycho mumbled to Al and Mach.
Well obviously hadn’t learned his lesson, and he tried to charge up to Rix’s chair again and Rix used his telepathy to make Well dive into a cluster of chairs. After about three more attempts, Well actually got quiet close to Rix, so he stepped out of the seat and backed up a bit. The game quickly descended to Well chasing Rix around the room, both of them vaulting over tables and chairs and trying to keep hold of enough self-control to avoid crashing into chairs, or tripping over and falling into a knife. Mach was laughing vigorously.
‘Ah, I love Well,’ said Mach. Psycho raised an eyebrow. ‘In a non-homosexual way,’ Mach reassured.
‘I know what you mean,’ said Al. ‘It’s like having your own entertainment walking around with you.’
Mach and Psycho nodded, and then went silent so they could watch the show properly. Al was a bit concerned of what would happen when Tutor woke up and found himself on the floor surrounded by knifes with no memory and two kids chasing each other around the room, though.

~*~*~*~*~

‘Matt, are you almost finished with those notes?’

EARTH DATE: 26/8/2027
YERYERSK DATE: 1/1/11394827410
PRESENT ARE: VITYRO (GOD, W/ SCYTHE), MORT (MR. MORT), MYSELF (MATT). SCANNED FOR BUGS / PEOPLE IN CUPBOARDS, FOUND NONE
LOCATION: SECRET ROOM ONE (MEETING ROOM), FACILITY (DOES THIS PLACE EVEN HAVE A NAME?)

‘Matt!’
‘Uh, yeah, sorry Mr. Mort.’
Mr. Mort snatched the note from Matt’s hand and spent a few seconds analysing what he had written.
‘Matt, this is terrible.’
‘I know,’ confessed Matt. ‘Sorry.’
‘Come now, you two,’ said Vityro, who was seated in his bejewelled chair that gave him a view over the whole table, even though only two people were seated there. ‘You’re ALWAYS arguing. Why can’t you get along?’
Mr. Mort made a sound a bit like a snort. ‘Vityro, I’ve been your right-hand man for centuries. This man –’ Mr. Mort paused here to wave his hand at Matt, as if Vityro hadn’t noticed him until then – ‘has been working for us less than five years, and you let HIM take the notes?’
Vityro actually laughed at this. ‘You say “five years” as if it were the blink of an eye. Perhaps for you, a man who has lived already for a thousand years or so. And yet you forgot that to me, a man who has lived since the dawn of time, a thousand years is like the blink of an eye?’
Mr. Mort blinked. ‘What a profound thing to say.’
‘I am a very profound person,’ said Vityro. ‘Anyway – to business.’
‘Right,’ said Mr. Mort. ‘We’re going to official start tomorrow. This means that we need timetables, classes, and transport sorted out as soon as possible. We need to get all the Earth kids sorted out, we need to set up tutors, and structure lessons. Everything has to be in place by tomorrow, and we have no idea what we’re doing yet.’
‘Well put,’ said Vityro. ‘Now let’s hear what Matt has to say.’
Matt cleared his throat. ‘Well, it doesn’t sound that hard to me.’
‘Ah, that’s much more optimistic,’ announced Vityro. ‘Mr. Mort, you could learn some things from him, you know.’
Mr. Mort gave Matt a look of death.
‘Anyhow,’ said Vityro, ‘we really should look on how we’re going to group the kids. How many are there?’
‘One hundred and fifty six, total,’ said Mr. Mort immediately.
‘Then I reckon we should have six groups of twenty-six.’
‘Now that IS a coincidence,’ said Mr. Mort. He flipped though a couple of pages of his notes and found something written in his own illegible handwriting. ‘It just so happens that there are twenty-six children that were recruited for skills they have learned purely through high level education. Also, I have here twenty-six children listed based on their natural aura abilities and inherited skills.’ Mr. Mort lowered his notes. ‘You think we should group these as the first two groups?’
‘Hang on,’ said Matt. ‘You recruited twenty-six kids just because they had a top-class education? ANYONE can get that.’
Mr. Mort raised his nose. ‘They are well disciplined and talented. I suppose you are slightly biased, since several of the other twenty-six are Earthlings?’
‘Earth is a lovely place, you know,’ said Vityro. ‘Well, it was when I visited last, about two thousand years ago. So, we have two groups so far. They need naming.’
‘Well, they’re different angles of approach… how about we call them angles?’ suggested Matt.
‘Good one,’ said Vityro. ‘Though we’ll need six different names, for six Angles…’
‘Letters of the alphabet?’ suggested Matt once more.
‘Dibs on Angle T for the well-educated group,’ said Mr. Mort hastily.
‘Dibs on – damn,’ said Matt. Of course, T was the first letter of the Yeryerskah alphabet. ‘Fine, the actually talented group can be Angle L.’
‘Good stuff,’ said Vityro. ‘Each Angle’s gonna need a teacher, too. Like an Angle Leader. Any immediate suggestions?’
‘I know a History teacher called Leorard,’ said Mr. Mort. ‘She can lead Angle T.’
‘And I have a friend who owes me a favour,’ said Matt. ‘He could lead Angle L.’
‘Uh, what’s his name?’ asked Mr. Mort.
‘It’s verbally impossible to pronounce.’
‘Okay… how would one spell it?’
‘I believe it goes something like Z, Z, Y, Z, Q, X, E, N, O, Q, T.
‘Hmm, that’s definitely not pronounceable.’
‘Is he actually qualified for the job?’ asked Vityro. ‘Because, you know, that’s quite important.’
‘Well,’ said Matt, ‘he has got a lot of qualifications in mathematics. He could work as a Maths teacher.’
‘No, he couldn’t,’ said Vityro. ‘We don’t TEACH Maths.’
‘Actually, about that…’ Mr. Mort flipped further through his notes. ‘I received this letter recently, from the council.’
‘Oh, God,’ said the God as he took the letter from Mr. Mort and read it. ‘Dah dah dah, we have been informed of your facility, dah dah dah inappropriate lessons for education dah dah lack of core subjects dah dah dah shut facility down.’ Vityro lowered the letter. ‘I’m being threatened by the COUNCIL? But I’m a God!’
‘It’s not really fair,’ said Mr. Mort. ‘Anyway, I found a loophole. They’ll let us stay if we just rename one of the subjects.’
‘Ahh, I see,’ said Vityro. ‘You think we should rename one of our subjects to “Maths”?
‘That would let Matt’s little friend teach here as well,’ answered Matt.
‘Very well,’ said Vityro. ‘Take one of our main subjects, Tactics or Aura Studies or something, rename it Maths, job done.’ Vityro put on that worrying grin of his. ‘What now?’
‘We still need to make four more Angles…’ said Matt.
‘Oh, yeah,’ said Vityro. ‘That doesn’t sound fun.’
‘Well, it sort of needs to be done by tomorrow,’ said Mr. Mort. ‘We’ll call the two new Angle Leaders, you sort out the other ones.’
Vityro sighed. Mr. Mort never left him any fun jobs.

~*~*~*~*~

Rix, Psycho, Mach and Al left the Mind Block after a very good Aura Studies lessons.
‘That was IMMENSE,’ yelled Rix, tipping his head back and laughing, causing Al to wonder how his hat stayed on again. ‘Al, you HAVE to show me how to do that hand plant thing some time!’
‘All it takes is a little practice,’ said Al modestly. He proved his point by pushing his palm at the nearest rubbish bin, which leant backwards a little, as if hit by a gust of wind.
‘Epic,’ said Rix. ‘Can’t wait ‘till our next Aura lesson. We got break now, right?’
‘Mhm,’ said Mach. ‘Fifteen minutes of waiting in the canteen line, or starving in the Fun Room.’
‘How come we haven’t seen anyone from the other Angles?’
‘What?’
‘You know,’ said Rix. ‘We’re Angle L, right? There are five other Angles we never even see.’
‘I think it’s a xenophobic thing,’ said Psycho. ‘People stick to their groups and don’t mingle.’
Rix’s head drooped. ‘But I like mingling.’
‘Well, we’re the only ones that know how to get into the Fun Room,’ said Al, ‘because we’re so amazing. I think the other groups stick to their tutor rooms.’
‘How dull,’ said Rix. ‘You think we should go invade one?’
‘Seriously? No.’
‘Come on, it’ll be fun.’
Al thought for a second. ‘I’ll show you where it is but I’m not going inside.’
‘Good enough,’ said Rix, grinning. ‘What about you, Franky, Will?’
‘This goes against every moral code here,’ said Psycho.
‘This goes against your mother,’ said Mach. ‘I’m coming.’
‘OK,’ said Rix. ‘Lead the way, Will.’
There was an awkward pause.
‘Uh, where ARE their tutor rooms?’ asked Mach.
‘I think Leorard is Angle T’s tutor,’ said Psycho. He paused for a second. ‘Why the hell I just tell you that?’
‘Leorard’s room…’ Mach thought, hard. ‘That’s H-7. That’s the highest room in the school.’
‘Like the North Tower,’ said Rix.
‘Yeah,’ agreed Mach, ‘Except it’s the West Tower and we don’t call it that because that would be gay.’
‘Whatever,’ said Rix. ‘Let’s go if we’re going.’
It took around five minutes to make their way right across the Facility, right from the east side to the west side, and reach the top floor of the Hand Block.
‘I’m staying outside,’ announced Psycho once they had reached the door.
‘Yeah, same,’ agreed Al. ‘I don’t want to be in there when they start shooting.’
Rix shrugged and lead Mach inside. Even though he wasn’t looking through the glass window in the door, he could visualise every single face inside the room turning to face the two strangers. It was deadly silent inside.
After a few seconds, he heard Rix’s muffled voice say “Hi”.
Al was surprised that the translating ear buds he had almost permanently in his ears had taken Rix’s muffled Yeryerskah voice, translated it to English, then mixed it back with Rix’s speech patterns and then made it muffled again. What was the point of that?
There was more silence for a bit, and then he Rix said, ‘We’re from Angle L, and we wanted to meet you guys.’
Somewhere from the back of room Al heard a rough voice call out, but it was too muffled to make out. These translating ear buds were a little TOO realistic.
‘Hey, come on guys,’ said Rix. ‘Just wanted to say hi.’
Mach said something too, but since Rix and Mach had stepped away from the door, the conversation was no longer audible. Al and Psycho stood outside and waited. They remained standing there for the longest minute of their lives before Rix and Mach rejoined them.
‘William Mach,’ said Rix as they went down the lift, ‘is a LEGEND.’
‘How so?’ asked Psycho casually.
‘He can do telepathy, too,’ explained Rix, grinning wildly. ‘I mean, not NEARLY as good as me, but… I mean, he could probably charm the ladies well enough with it.’
Al nodded. That probably explained quite a lot.
‘Yeah, Mach managed to stop everyone from throwing books at his with his mind,’ said Rix. ‘I mean, I could’ve stopped them EASILY… but anyway…’ Rix rubbed his hands together. ‘New idea.’
‘Rix, we’re not usually this adventurous at break times,’ said Psycho.
‘Nah,’ countered Rix. ‘This one’s a good one.’
‘We’re not going to visit any more Angles, are we?’ asked Al. ‘I mean, Angle P are a bunch of gimps.’
‘Nah,’ said Rix. ‘That would be unoriginal. I wanna hand in a suggestion.’
‘They don’t do that any more,’ said Mach.
‘What?’
‘They DID have a suggestions box, a few weeks ago. They took it down.’
‘Why?’
‘I dunno… Just a few hours after I added my suggestion for a girl’s mud wresting class they took it down. No idea why.’
‘That just doesn’t add up,’ mumbled Psycho.
‘Fine then,’ said Rix. ‘Forget the suggestion box, I’m gonna go see Matt.’
This surprised Al.
‘I don’t think I’ve spoken to Matt since I first arrived,’ he said. ‘That should be fun.’
And just like that, Rix led them out of the Hand Block and to… well…
‘Hang on,’ said Rix. ‘I have no idea where I’m going now.’
‘Upstairs, Core Block,’ said Al. ‘All the admin team have offi –’
But Al was interrupted by the sound of the bell indicating the end of break. Rix thought for a second.
‘We’ve got Yeryerskah next, right?’ said Rix. ‘Meh, I already speak that.’
Rix strode off to the Core Block, completely ignoring the lesson the bell had politely asked him to attend. Mach, Psycho and Al followed. A few minutes later and Rix was knocking on Matt’s office door.
Matt’s eyes widened when he saw the group. ‘Hello, Alan, Franky, Will, long time no see… And Hari, much longer…’
‘Ah, we all have new names, now,’ said Psycho. Rix came in with a question.
‘See,’ began Rix, ‘the way I see it is we use this place, this FACILITY, for six different “angles”, right? But we never see each other. I reckon we should mix classes together, into ability sets, maybe. It’d help get the Angles to know each other.’
‘Rix,’ said Psycho, ‘we’re all Anglophobic here.’
‘Uhh…’ intruded Al. ‘You DO know that means –’
‘That’s an interesting idea,’ interrupted Matt. ‘I suppose we could try it for the core subjects for a while and –’ Matt paused. ‘Shouldn’t you lot be in class?’
‘Yeah,’ said Rix, frowning. ‘Yeah, we should, shouldn’t we?’
Matt smiled cordially. ‘It’s OK, I understand. You won’t be in any trouble. Take as long as you like to get to your next class.’
Matt closed the door on them.
‘More telepathy?’ asked Al.
‘Oh yes,’ said Rix. ‘You should try it some time.’
‘All I can do is get ants to walk like crabs,’ said Al. ‘I think you need natural talent. Come on, we better get to Yeryerskah.’
The Earthlings headed down the corridor in the direction of the Tongue Block, but Rix faltered.
‘You guys go on ahead,’ said Rix. ‘I’m going off to check out the Fun Room. How do you get in again?’
‘Press the button behind “Curiosity” on the poster,’ answered Psycho.
‘Gotcha. See ya, guys.’
And with that, Rix strode off in the opposite direction, his head pointed in the air and his top hat tilted backwards.
‘Well…’ said Al, as they headed off. ‘So, what do you think of Rix?’
‘Legend,’ said Mach. ‘Better than Tryne.’
Al knitted his eyebrows. ‘Tryne died.’
‘Since when have you cared about things like speaking ill of the dead?’ asked Al.
‘Well… yeah, Rix is a LOT better.’
Psycho shook his head. ‘I cannot believe you two.’
Al shrugged casually. ‘I barely even feeling emotions, it’s a serious medical condition.’
‘And I just didn’t like her much,’ said Mach. ‘Besides, all that’s in the past. Rix has been here for just two hours, and look at what he’s already done? I think this place might be a lot more fun with him around.’
‘You wanna see fun? Wait ‘till Rix and Well get bored together in the Fun Room at lunch.’
‘Oh, Jesus.’



~~~ CHAPTER ELEVEN ~~~


ANGLES AND DEMONS


IT ONLY JUST OCCURRED TO AL THAT HE WAS THE ONLY PERSON IN THE CLASS THAT EVEN CAME FROM THE SAME PLANET AS HIM.

This didn’t register as much of a coincidence for Al, as Al had always had an inkling that he was from the same planet as himself, so that didn’t surprise him. The fact that nobody else in the room was from Earth hit him hard though.
It was Maths – or Tactics, rather – and Rix’s words had had their effect. Angle L had been split three ways into ability sets, and Al was the only Earthling who had made top set. And now his third of the class had been thrown in with the best of Angle T (who were all rich snobs, in Al’s opinion) and Angle P (who were all gimps, in Al’s opinion). Although there were a few familiar faces in the advanced class - Nara, Lyle, Guibian, Darl, and Torus – it did not make Al feel any more comfortable, especially since Al had been squeezed into the corner of the room. Not only that, but Tutor was no longer teaching – he was teaching the intermediate class, which had Well, Psycho, and Justine in. Meanwhile, Al would enjoy the educational styling of a Tactics teacher named Luigi, a man Al only knew from seeing him around. He would also no longer be in Room C-4, but instead in Room C-2, which was a complete outrage in Al’s opinion.
Al wandered squeamishly to his sit in the corner, fitting him beside to a girl giving him a funny look.
‘What’s with the eyes?’ she asked.
Al stared blankly.
The girl stared back. ‘Why are they blue?’
‘What?’
‘Your eyes. Why are they blue?’
‘Umm…’ Al was struggling to understand. ‘Is that not normal here?’
And then a voice from the front of the class joined the conversation – ‘Hey, Al, you know blue eyes is an Earthling thing?’
Al looked over the tables and saw Lowin grinning at him, trapped against the wall just like Al, except two rows closer to the front.
‘Lowin!’ yelled Al, now also grinning. ‘I didn’t know you were in this set?’
‘Yeah,’ said Lowin. ‘I was gonna be in the intermediate one but they moved me up at the last minute. I WOULD offer you a seat next to me, but…’
Lowin gestured to the seat next to him, where another boy from Angle T was sat (Al and the others just called them “T kids”.) The “T kid” had skin looked… yellowish.
‘Bamintz kid,’ said Lowin. ‘I don’t know if he speaks any Yeryerskah. I asked, he didn’t answer me, so I can’t be sure.’
‘Bamintz?’ asked Al over the tabletops. ‘What’s that, a country?’
‘It’s a nation in our next-door star system,’ explained Lowin. ‘They speak their own language. Nobody’s told him how to use the translators yet.’
Lowin tapped at his ears, where Al knew he had the translating buds that converted Al’s English to Yeryerskah. Al was suddenly grateful for the buds in his own ears, realising that they translated more languages than he thought.
‘Anyway,’ said Lowin, ‘only Earthlings have blue eyes. I mean, some have brown and green like everyone, but nobody else has blue. It’s kinda special.’
‘Well,’ said Al, ‘I didn’t know that, then.’ Al stopped, realising he had no idea what to say next. So he nodded towards the door and said, ‘Uh, is the teacher gonna arrive some when?’
The next to Al spoke up. ‘He’s always late to lessons.’
‘You know him?’
‘Yeah, he was our Tactics teacher before we got split up aswell,’ she said. ‘He NEVER arrives on time.’
Al made a sort of “Huh.” gesture with eyebrows. He fiddled with his pen for a bit, staring at people through the room and checking their eye colours, when Luigi the Tactics Teacher walked in.
It had turned out that for the lesson they were going to be playing board games. Apparently, since they had just been changed into different sets, the students needed an easy lesson. Also, Luigi quite liked board games. Unfortunately, they were restricted to their desks.
‘No worries,’ said Lowin, as he passed an Überchess board to Al. ‘We can still talk.’
Al pulled his personal Überchess set out of his backpack. ‘Check this out,’ he said, pulling out a piece that resembled a green scythe on a small stand – much like Vityro’s scythe. ‘Life Scythe. Very rare.’
Lowin nodded in appreciation. ‘Those don’t come at ten a penny. But still…’
Lowin pulled a red crown shape out of his own set.
‘Fire Crown beats it,’ said Lowin, grinning.
Al shook his head. ‘I won’t have that. I’ve only been on this planet for three months.’
‘Well, that’s tough. Still, you’re probably good enough to beat that girl… what’s her name again?’
‘Dunno,’ said Al. ‘Didn’t ask.’
‘Yeah, I didn’t ask my partner’s name either,’ said Lowin, gesturing to his Bamintzah partner. ‘Wouldn’t have mattered, I still haven’t showed him the translator yet.’
‘Harsh.’
Lowin shrugged casually. ‘I don’t trust these T Demons.’
Several people turned around at this, but Lowin remained oblivious. He turned back to his unnamed accomplice and tried to start up a game, with no luck.
Al sighed, and turned back to his own partner wondering how easily he could get through lessons like this from now on.

~*~*~*~*~

It was pretty sleek for a standard issue space shuttle. It had a nice storage room, and nice control panel with a nice cabinet. It also had a nice infirmary with some nice beds, though Matt hoped that he wouldn’t need to use them.
He pulled his unique phone out of his pocket. It was the second of only two in existence, making its diversity fairly limited, but its range was infinite. It was really more of a walky-talky that Mr. Mort had designed in his youth. When Mr. Mort was a strapping young inventor, he had come up with some ground breaking discoveries and creations. The Déjundo, when properly powered, would turn back time a few minutes to reverse a mistake. Unfortunately, due to such factors as limited energy and infinite loop paradoxes, this device has never been used. Another of his creations was the Repulsive – a small button with a “!” sign on that harnessed mechanical aura. When pressed, it would summon a bubble around the user made purely of pushing forces that preventing anything getting in or out. And, of course, Mr. Mort invented the ultimate telephone.
The phone was unique in the fact that it could be used anywhere. Absolutely any place in the universe. In fact, it could be used anywhere in a MULTIVERSE. It could, in theory, phone through dimensions. It could phone through time (though, it refused to phone into the future, only into the past). Back in the old days, when the God of Water was Vityro’s right-hand man, Mr. Mort had given the second phone to him. After Liaguo took his funny turn five years ago, Matt had got the phone instead.
Matt considered this a huge honour. The universe was always rules by three people. First, it was the three Gods. Then, it was Vityro and Liaguo with another ever-changing human (This was Mr. Mort’s job, and he had lasted a millennium or so longer than most). Now, it was Vityro, Mr. Mort and Matt. Matt was happy about that.
Matt pulled back the flap on the phone to reveal the number pad. He pressed “1”and waited.
The voice of Mr. Mort answered after half a ring.
‘News?’ asked a curious Mr. Mort.
‘Oh, yes,’ answered Matt. ‘We’re ready to take off. We got a ship and everything?’
‘A ship off the Earthlings?’
‘Uh, yes. It’s rather shiny.’
‘Matt, I would not trust Earthling spacecraft if I were you. They are notorious for running out of fuel horrifically quickly.’
Matt grinned at the way Mr. Mort constantly under-estimated him. ‘Don’t worry yourself, Mr. Mort. I got it custom tailored by a friend. A YERYERSKAH friend, not some cheap Earthling mechanic. He’s rigged it with aura-orientated steering, APEL, artificial gravity, the works.’
There was silence for a very long couple of seconds.
‘Well, I must’ve under-estimated you, Matt.’
Matt laughed to himself under his breath.
‘Get the Earthlings here, as soon as you can,’ dictated Mr. Mort. ‘We don’t want any uncalled for interru –’
The connection was interrupted.
Matt looked around the yard wildly, searching for the reason for whatever could’ve possibly broken the connection between the phones that were supposed to work anywhere. The reason was standing right behind him, with two very big men on either side of him.
‘Who the HELL are you?’ asked Matt, in a polite tone of voice.
‘You don’t know my name?’ retorted Simon Trench the Ninth. ‘You’re not from ‘round these parts, are you?’
Matt frowned. ‘OK, I’m not from Earth, I’m from Yeryersk. What of it?’
STIX pointed towards the shuttle. ‘That shuttle is for Earthlings only.’
‘You racist.’
‘Don’t get mouthy, please. Just hand over the shuttle contract.’
‘You need a CONTRACT?’
‘OK, you’re coming with me.’
The two men advanced on Matt, but Matt was having any of it. He backed up and raised his hands in defence.
‘Woah, hey guys,’ he said, looking worried. ‘Hey, hey, how about we talk over this? Like, how the hell did you break my magic phone?’
STIX pulled a remote out of his pocket. ‘It nuked your battery.’
Matt frowned and pulled the cover off the battery slot. A large amount of molten casing and ominous green battery juice slopped out of the slot. Matt’s frown slid even further down his face.
‘That’s wasn’t very nice,’ he said. ‘Or very possible for that matter.’
‘My company has the finest scientists of Earth,’ said STIX.
‘That’s about the same as the worst bin cleaners of Yeryersk, then.’
STIX laughed. ‘You saw what my battery nuke did to your phone. Would you like to see my Mindnuke?’
‘No, not really.’
‘Good. Now get out of here.’
‘Who ARE you?’ asked Matt, ignoring STIX’s demand. STIX sighed.
‘My name is Simon Trench,’ said Simon Trench. ‘The ninth. I have a huge company and a role in the government and I’m authorised to hospitalise people who break the law. So get off of this field.’
‘Nah,’ retorted Matt. ‘It’s nice here. Nice grass. I might roll in it later. Nice rocket. I might fly to the moon in it later.’
‘OK, you asked for it.’
There was an awkward silence.
‘That,’ STIX said to his two hired goons, ‘was your cue to hurt our unauthorised guest.’
The first one looked alarmed and charged at Matt. Matt pulled back his fist as if he were about to punch the goon, but just as he was about to hit him in the chest, Matt splayed his hand and pushed against the goon with his palm. The goon’s momentum was lost immediately and he flew backwards about five metres, landing in a sprawled heap on the grass.
‘How…’ began STIX.
‘Ah,’ said Matt. ‘You Earthlings don’t know much about aura, do you?’
STIX shook his head. ‘Your turn… uh… goon number 2.’
The second goon, who had not moved, didn’t seem all that keen to take on Matt after he saw what had happened to his co-worker.
‘Take him down,’ said STIX, ‘and you can keep whatever is in his pocket.’
‘Ha!’ exclaimed Matt. ‘All I have in my pocket is my receipt from the supermarket!’ Matt dug his hand into his pocket and withdrew a slip of paper. However, it was not it a receipt, it was a £50 note.
‘Wait, that’s not a –’
Matt’s voice was lost when the second goon launched his massive frame straight into Matt’s chest and winded him. The goon pinned Matt to the ground by the wrists, so that Matt could no longer the power he had displayed earlier. Matt struggled, but was unfortunately quite weak, and while he did the first goon had got off the ground and stolen Matt’s money.
‘Hey!’ yelled the second goon, who turned his head to the first goon. The man was grinning and waving the money in the second man’s face, who couldn’t grab it, what with pinning Matt to the ground and all.
Matt seized his chance and ripped his right hand free of the goon’s grasp. He pushed against the man’s side hard, forcing all the aura he could into the push, and the man flew through the air, crashing into the first guard. Matt jumped up onto his feet and walked over the two goons, who were moaning on the floor.
‘You just got owned by a little guy,’ taunted Matt. He ripped his money out of the goon’s hand and waved it in his face. ‘Wow, is that all it took to take you two out? You need to cut down on the bacon.’
Matt stopped taunting when he heard an ominous CLICK from behind him. He turned around to see STIX with a handgun levelled at his head.
‘Put your hands in the air,’ said STIX calmly, ‘very slowly.’
Matt grinning and slowly slid his hands above his head.
‘Actually,’ said STIX, ‘that’s a terrible idea. Put your hands in your pockets, very, very slowly.’
Matt frowned again. He very, very slowly moved his hands down towards his pockets, so that after around five seconds his hands had reached his head. STIX sighed and shot a bullet at the ground where Matt stood.
‘Gah! Alright, alright,’ said Matt, slipping his hands into his pockets. ‘So, what happens now?’
‘You come with me,’ answered STIX. ‘And we have a little talk about who you are and what you’re doing and how you learned such fluent English.’
‘Well,’ said Matt, ‘If you really must know, my name is Matt.’
‘Matt what?’
‘It’s bad manners to give away your surname where I come from.’
STIX cocked the gun again.
‘Hey,’ said Matt, ‘don’t worry, I’m actually quite famous. I work for Vityro.’
‘Who is Vityro?’
‘Seriously? You’re SUCH a heathen.’
STIX sighed. ‘I’m getting sick of listening to your patronising comments, Matt. Explain what you’re doing here.’
Matt sighed. ‘I’m trying to kidnap a selection of magical children to please a God.’
STIX was silent for a few seconds before replying.
‘Matt, I think we need to talk under more strict conditions.’
STIX stepped forwards as if he was about to grab Matt’s arm, but then there he stopped and there was a sound of something hitting hollow wood. STIX remained suspended upwards for a few seconds, but then he toppled over, out cold. Matt looked down and picked up the tennis ball that had just bounced off of STIX’s head at a very high speed. He looked past STIX to see Justine standing a couple of dozen yards away, waving.
‘NICE SHOT!’ Matt yelled while jogging up to her. ‘Although, I DO remember giving you strict instruction to STAY IN THE MINIBUS.’
‘Yeah, you did,’ said Al, who Matt had only just noticed arriving in a crowd with all the other YI members. ‘And what a disaster it was that Justine left!’
Matt rubbed his temples. ‘OK, I don’t have time for your blatant sarcasm, Alan. Follow me, all of you.’
And Matt ran off in the direction of the space shuttle, with the crowd of Earth children following him, all believing that their problems with STIX were over.

~*~*~*~*~

Matt dismissed his memories of the day that the Earthlings arrived when Vityro entered the Meeting Room through the secret entrance. For this meeting, the Angle Leaders weren’t going to come. Mr. Mort had decided that they were surplus to the council. Seated around the table now were just Matt, Mr. Mort, his very quiet apprentice Zight, and now, Vityro.
‘Well,’ said Vityro, ‘to business.’
‘The Rix boy,’ said Mr. Mort. ‘I think he settled in quite well.’
‘Very well,’ agreed Matt. ‘He seems to have taken the role of alpha male, because he’s five years older than the others and he’s telepathic. It’s quite amusing to watch.’
Mr. Mort nodded. ‘I think it had something to do with telepathically rewiring their tutor to juggle knives for entertainment.’
‘I didn’t hear about that,’ said Matt.
‘That’s because you don’t watch the CCTV footage,’ said Mr. Mort. ‘Luckily, there isn’t a rule forbidding telepathy… yet.’
‘You and your rules, honestly,’ said Matt.
‘What are you –?’
‘Oh, don’t start already,’ moaned Vityro. ‘I only just got here.’
‘Sorry sir,’ said both Matt and Mr. Mort in unison.
‘Anyway,’ said Vityro. ‘I came on different matters.’
‘Like what?’ said Mr. Mort.
‘Like this,’ replied Vityro, unravelling a sheet of paper he had. The picture was a black and white CCTV shot of STIX, wearing Myrano’s crowd.
The other three occupants of the table stared at this for a while.
‘So STIX has the crown?’ said Mr. Mort. ‘Just like we suspected.’
‘Mhm,’ said Vityro. ‘The thing I’m thinking is that the crown was stolen by Glar the Defibrillated. And I reckon that there’s a high probability that Glar planted the bomb in the Core Block.’
‘How can you be sure?’ said Matt. ‘It could’ve been anyone. It could’ve been STIX himself.’
‘Wait,’ said Zight. ‘Why don’t you just check your CCTV?’
‘We can’t,’ said Mr. Mort grimly. ‘The bomb managed to take out the underground wire that gave us our entire CCTV feed?’
‘Wasn’t the detonation really small, though?’ asked Matt.
‘Either STIX planned this really well or irony played a large part.’
‘Indubitably,’ Matt agreed.
‘I have also figured out where STIX is hiding,’ said Vityro.
‘What?’
‘This photo,’ said Vityro while waving the photo, ‘was taken through the window of Ecipon Cathedral.’
Mr. Mort frowned. ‘That place is sealed off. I did all the paperwork myself.’
Matt laughed. ‘You thought a bit of paper’s gonna stop STIX?’
‘No, I thought a load of sealed entrances and barricades would.’
‘Again, not really.’
‘The point IS,’ said Vityro, ‘that we need to track him down.’
‘But we can’t use the police force or military or anything like that,’ said Mr. Mort. ‘They’re all going to be on STIX’s side.’
‘Wait, people would rather listen to the government than a God?’ said Zight indignantly.
‘Welcome to our world,’ Vityro sighed.
‘But we have the kids!’ Matt yelled suddenly. ‘We’ve got a hundred and fifty six super-talented children that we’ve been training for months now. Why not use them?’
‘A hundred and sixty five,’ corrected Mr. Mort.
‘Well, yeah,’ said Matt, realising that the new addition Rix had only been around for a few days.
‘Do you really think they’re skilled enough for something like this?’ asked Vityro. ‘We don’t want to risk any more.’
Mr. Mort shook his head. ‘We’ll only take the finest of them, then. We’ll have to take Al and Rix, they’re both highly talented. And Nara, she’s very skilled too.’
‘I think we should only take Angle L,’ said Vityro.
Mr. Mort stared. ‘Why?’
‘Those are the ones with the kinds of talent we need. The ones who cut straight through the knot rather than untying it slowly.’
‘You mean we need to take the ones who make hasty decisions?’
‘No, the ones who make speedy decisions.’
Mr. Mort half-opened his mouth to retort again, but Matt shook his head at him. Mr. Mort lowered his head. ‘Whatever you wish, sir.’
Vityro smiled. ‘Good, good. I shall be making a person appearance in a few weeks, so get them prepared as best you can.’
Vityro pulled himself out of his emerald emblazoned chair. ‘Oh, and one more thing.’
‘Yes?’ said Mr. Mort calmly.
‘Take Well.’
Mr. Mort frowned. ‘The unintelligent joker?’
‘You don’t know why he’s here, do you?’
Mr. Mort shook his head. ‘No, sir, Matt filled that one.’
‘Actually, I did,’ said Vityro. ‘On Earth, his name was Daniel Parsons, and he is the son of Glar the Defibrillated.
Mr. Mort’s eyes widened. ‘You mean –’
‘Yes. He is a Life-Flipper.’
‘But… an ACTIVE one? Their bloodline was supposed to have died out!’
Vityro laughed. ‘You never thought that Glar chose to have a kid some day?’
‘He doesn’t seem like the kind of person to settle down with a family.’
‘That wouldn’t stop him from having a child.’
‘Poor kid.’
‘Quite,’ said Vityro, with a little sigh. ‘I wonder if his father’s absence has anything to do with his humorous outlook on life. Probably not, but still. Treat him like the others. Don’t give up on him. And if he passes out in a lessons, ask him what he dreamed about.’
‘What… what he DREAMED about?’ asked Mr. Mort.
‘If he spontaneously passes out in a lesson, it probably means he Life-Flipped. Suffice to say, I think you’d be interested to know what’s going on in heaven.’
Mr. Mort blinked. ‘Of co – yes sir, I’ll make sure of that, sir.’
‘Excellent,’ said Vityro, seizing his scythe and making for the secret doorway. Without another word, Vityro left the Meeting Room.
They stayed in silence for a while.
‘You knew about him, didn’t you?’ said Mr. Mort.
‘I did,’ Matt confirmed. ‘You understand the risk of sending him to Ecipon Cathedral?’
Mr. Mort nodded. ‘A coincidence like no other, sending a Life-Flipper to that particular building. But it doesn’t matter. The security they have there is tighter than any other spot in the entire of Our Matters.’
‘Um,’ interrupted Zight, the young apprentice. ‘What exactly are you talking about?’
‘Something that was locked away, long, long ago,’ said Mr. Mort, ‘and something that you learn about when you are older. Come on,’ he said, standing up. ‘We had better start preparing.’

~*~*~*~*~

Al and Psycho sat down at Mach and Mikki’s table in the Fun Room in utter silence.
‘Um,’ said Psycho, ‘what are you –’
‘SHHH!’ said Mikki, not even looking at him but staring into space. He waved a hand in Psycho’s general direction.
Al slowed pulled a sandwich out of his bag and began eating.
They remained silent for another twenty seconds or so.
‘See?’ said Mikki, grinning. ‘She’s whispering!’
‘Mikki, I think you’re hallucinating,’ said Mach.
‘I’m not!’ yelled Mikki, stamping his foot. ‘I could HEAR her voice, whispering to me! You heard her too, right?’ Mikki turned towards Al and Psycho, pleadingly.
‘Um,’ said Al, putting the sandwich down, ‘what were we supposed to hear?’
‘Tryne!!!’ Mikki bellowed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the universe. ‘She keeps whispering, even though she’s dead!’
‘It’s OK,’ said Psycho. ‘We can take you to a doctor.’
‘Franky, shut up,’ said Mikki. ‘I don’t want your sadism right now.’
‘You mean cynicism?’
‘Yeah, whatever.’
‘You’re hearing voices?’ said Al, trying to understand what was going on. ‘Mikki, that’s not good.’
‘Ugh, I’m sick of you lot,’ moaned Mikki. He left the table and went to the back of the room to talk with Proco and Tiner.
‘Did we just make him leave?’ asked Al, picking up the sandwich again.
‘Nah,’ said Mach. ‘He’s getting himself wound up. He keeps thinking he can hear dead people.’
‘Maybe he’s just upset that he hasn’t got a special skill, like us,’ said Psycho. ‘I mean, Al and I are pretty good at Aura, I’ve got the burst, Al’s a genius, and you’ve got your music and your telepathy…’
‘My telepathy’s not THAT good,’ said Mach. ‘I mean, next to Rix –’
‘Somebody call?’ said Rix, as he laid down on three chairs and rested his head in Mach’s lap. ‘Hey, sexy.’
‘Hey there, Rixxy’ said Mach, tussling Rix’s hair.
‘Where’s Sashah, eh?’ asked Rix. ‘I thought you two were like –’ Rix crossed his fingers and shook the gesture in the air to indicate a close relationship. ‘Like this.’
‘Ah, I freaked her out a bit last night,’ explained Mach. ‘I don’t even know why.’
‘Wait, you’re going out with Sashah?’ said Al.
‘For a couple of weeks,’ said Mach. ‘Jesus Al, keep up.’
‘Wow, sorry.’
‘Anyway,’ Mach resumed. ‘I leaned in to kiss her, and she stared back like I was gonna bite her face off.’
‘Hang on,’ interrupted Rix. ‘What does “kiss” mean?’
Mach turned down to him. ‘Are you actually serious?’
‘Yes. This is my serious face.’
‘Rix, if you’re gonna be serious, get your head off of my groin.’
Rix sat up straight. ‘Seriously, what is kiss? Is like a head butt?’
‘No!’ said Mach. ‘It’s where a boy and a girl –’ Mach paused. ‘It’s actually really difficult to explain.’
‘“Verb. The act of caressing with the lips as a sign of affection”’ said Al, reading the definition off of his Omnifact. ‘A very corporate definition, but there you go.’
‘What, so the boy and the girl put their lips together and…’ Rix took both his hands and intertwined his fingers wildly. ‘… do this?’
 ‘Well, I wasn’t planning on being that… vigorous,’ said Mach, ‘yet.’
‘So you’ve NEVER heard of kissing?’ asked Psycho.
‘Nope,’ said Rix, while checking his own Omnifact. ‘Nope, the Yeryerskah version doesn’t have it. It’s only on the English one.’
‘This planet is missing out,’ mumbled Mach. ‘We should teach EVERYONE to kiss. We’d be famous.’
‘Can you show me how?’ asked Rix.
‘I REALLY don’t think I’m going to do that,’ said Mach. ‘Psycho can show you though.’
‘Nah,’ said Psycho. ‘I just ate.’
‘I AM eating,’ said Al.
‘What’s the problem?’ said Rix.
‘Rix, I’ll find you a leaflet some time,’ said Mach, eager to change the subject. ‘Anyway, how was that mixed Tactics lessons today?’
‘Pretty slow,’ said Al. ‘We were just playing board games.’
‘How’d you do?’ asked Psycho.
‘I kicked Angle T’s arse.’
‘Good stuff,’ said Psycho. ‘Middle set were analysing blueprints. We had to spot fakes. Turns out they’re fake if they’re not blue.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Mhm. The red ones were counterfeit.’
‘You can get counterfeit blueprints?’
‘Apparently so.’
‘Our lesson was great,’ said Mach. ‘Me and Mikki paired up and had to burst clouds.’
‘How’d you do?’
‘We burst three.’
‘In one hour?’
‘It was harder than you might think.’
Rix laughed. ‘We burst forty nine.’
‘Who were YOU paired with?’ asked Mach.
‘Proco.’
‘Proco can do NOTHING.’
‘Proco can make the air colder.’
‘What?’
Mach shrugged. ‘It’s not very hard. It’s just like making heat, only instead of making it, you suck it up.
‘That makes sense,’ said Psycho. ‘The same way I can make darkness instead of light.’
‘I assumed that was just because you’re a gloomy person,’ said Al.
‘It probably is.’
‘Anyway,’ said Mach, ‘Proco just sort of condensed the clouds and it started raining.’
‘Indoors?’ said Al.
‘That’s what happens when you have indoor clouds.’
The conversation was interrupted once more by the arrival of Well. He wiped his arm along the table, knocking all the lunch boxes and books onto the floor, before diving onto it and lying down.
‘It’s good to see you too, Well,’ said Rix.
‘Look,’ said Well, sitting up and trying to put on a serious face. ‘Ever since you told me I was a Life-Swapper –’
‘Flipper,’ corrected Rix.
‘Yeah, OK,’ said Well, waving the comment away. ‘Ever since you told me, I’ve been doing a lot of research.’
‘Seriously?’ said Mach.
‘I’ve been doing SOME research,’ said Well. ‘I’ve also been thinking about your condition too, Rix.’
‘Oh, God,’ said Al, burying his head into his crossed arms.
‘See, your age is fixed by a telepathic spell,’ said Well, ‘am I right?’
‘True,’ said Rix. ‘But –’
‘And – and I read about this from an actual book,’ stated Well, ‘that there are two ways to reverse a telepathic spell: Having it undone by a BETTER telepath –’
‘No such thing,’ Rix interrupted.
‘- or death.’
‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ said Rix.
‘No, seriously,’ said Well. ‘Me and Al checked this one out together, right?’
Al sighed. ‘Well, I told you, there’s no feasible way of doing it.’
‘Ah,’ countered Well. ‘But is there a POSSIBLE way of doing it?’
‘That’s what feasible means.’
‘You’re missing my brilliant point,’ Well complained. ‘Y’see, I’m a Life-Swapper.’
‘Flipper,’ said Rix.
‘Flipper,’ agreed Well. ‘And since I’m a Life-Flipper, I regularly die and come back, right?’
‘As you do,’ mumbled Psycho.
‘OK,’ said Well. ‘Al, tell me exactly what the book said.’
‘It said that the spell is broken when the heart stops beating,’ Al recited.
Well leant back down on the table, resting his head on his hands and displaying a satisfied expression on his face that suggestion that all had been explained.
‘… Well?’ asked Rix.
‘Don’t you see?’ yelled Well, sitting up again. ‘We need to kill you! Just a little bit. I do it all the time!’
‘You want to spot my heart beating for a few minutes?’ Rix mused.
‘Yeah,’ said Well. ‘Like, we can use electricity to stop your heart, and then restart it again.’
Rix was silent for a few seconds.
‘That’s actually not a bad idea,’ he admitted. ‘I mean, if it kick-starts my ageing hormones, being electrocuted doesn’t sound TOO bad.’
‘Alrighty,’ said Well. ‘Who here can make electricity?’
There was silence for a bit.
‘I’m terrible at aura,’ said Mach.
‘Same,’ said Rix.
‘I’m not much good at electromagnetic aura,’ admitted Al.
‘Mine always ends up in reverse,’ said Psycho.
‘You’re all failures,’ said Well. He looked around the Fun Room and fixed his eyes on one face.
‘OI!’ he yelled across a couple of tables. ‘NARA!’
Nara, who was sitting around a table with several of the other girls, looked up. Well grinned and gestured from Nara to approach.
‘Um, hello?’ Nara said awkwardly.
‘Hey, we need some help,’ said Well. ‘We want to stop Rix’s heart with electricity.’
Nara looked shocked. ‘What?!?’
‘It’s alright,’ said Rix. ‘You have my permission.’ He turned his attention to Well. ‘Hey, Well?’
‘Hm?’
‘Switch places?’
‘Ah, OK.’
Well slid himself off the table and sat down next to Mach. Rix got up onto the table, grinned, and took his jacket off.
‘What are you doing…?’ Nara asked cautiously.
‘Preparing for the operation,’ said Rix as he removed his medallion.
‘Nice necklace,’ scoffed Mach.
‘You can shut up,’ said Rix as he placed the medallion on the table beside him. Once again, Al couldn’t help noticing how the two smaller orbs mimicked the motions of the larger one, as if linked by some unseen connection.
‘Besides, that medallion costs a freaking fortune,’ said Rix, removing his shirt. ‘I’m sure you understand that it’s a sign of a true Yeryerskah gentleman.’
‘The hat does that,’ Al complimented.
‘Thank you,’ said Rix. ‘Shall we begin?’
‘What the hell is going on?’ asked Nara.
Psycho sighed. ‘What’s going on, is that Rix has a telepathic spell locked in his skull that prevents him ageing, and he planted it himself so it can’t be undone, and the only way to remove it is to stop his heart from beating, so we want you to use electromagnetic aura to stop his heart, and then restart it as soon as possible.’
‘Makes sense,’ mumbled Nara.
‘So, will you do it?’ asked Rix?
‘OK,’ she said anxiously.
‘Epic,’ said Rix. He laid himself on his back and flourished his hand in the air. ‘Whenever you’re ready.’
Nara approached, not entirely sure how to go about killing someone with aura. She hovered over him for a second and placed her hands on his chest, just above where she reckons his heart.
‘This is nice,’ mumbled Rix. ‘Maybe we should go out some time.’
Suddenly, there was a THHMP sound, something like a defibrillator, and Rix’s whole body shuddered, and was then eerily still. His head fell back, and yet his hat still remained fixed to his head. Nara stared for a while.
‘… Are you gonna, y’know, un-kill him?’ asked Well. ‘It’s kinda important to the plan.’
‘Oh, right,’ said Nara. She hovered back over Rix’s lifeless body and placed her hands where they were before. There was another THHMP sound and Nara retreated backwards, as Rix coughed back into life.
‘Hey, Rix,’ said Well, lifting his head. ‘You know where you are? This is hell. You died. I’m Satan.’
Well removed his hand from Rix’s head and held it in the air. Well stared at it for a moment, confused, before it slapped him in the face.
‘Ow,’ he mumbled.
‘Sorry, Well, but you’re no demon,’ said Rix, giving him a sinister smile. ‘And I don’t think my telepathy would work in hell.’
‘Says you,’ said Well. ‘What was death like? Did you go to the white place?’
‘Yes!’ yelled Rix. ‘There was absolutely nothing at all there! But it wasn’t really scary, and then I came back.’
‘Ha!’ said Well. ‘That’s the same place I go to when I Life-Swap!’
‘Flip!’
‘Whatever!’
‘Did it work?!?’ yelled Nara over the others.
‘Um…’ said Rix, trailing off. ‘How do we actually know?’
‘I guess we’ll have to wait and see.’
Al thought about this, heavily. Rix in an eleven year-old body was dangerous enough. What would a Rix all grown up be like?



~~~ CHAPTER TWELVE ~~~


NOBODY LIKES STIX


SERIOUSLY, EVERYONE HATES THAT RICH, SNOBBY, FULL-OF-HIMSELF SACK OF HOT-AIR-INFLATED VANITY. AND THAT’S WHAT HIS FRIENDS SAY.

STIX sighed from his seat in the Cobalt room in Ecipon Cathedral. Glar had not returned yet. He could only suppose that Glar had abandoned him, like so many other people in his business empire who had the misfortune of meeting him face to face. Usually STIX would find the traitors and have them punished, but this was Glar – and this was not strictly STIX. The crown, still perched on STIX’s head, would have more than mere punishment in mind.
That was, of course, why the phrase “speak of the devil” was the first thing that sprang to STIX’s mind when he noticed Glar the Defibrillated hovering outside the window with a jetpack strapped to his back.
For a moment, STIX just stared. Then, when he decided Glar had been worried enough, STIX got up out of his seat and faced Glar directly at the window.
‘HELP,’ yelled Glar frantically, though his voice was barely audible through the thick glass window. ‘I HAVE FIFTEEN SECONDS LEFT OF FUEL!’
STIX stared at Glar for eleven seconds before opening the window. Glar immediately pulled on the lever to move himself forwards, but he ran out of fuel too early. He fell down before he could reach the window, though luckily he managed to grab hold of the window sill. He grabbed on with his other hand and tried to pull himself up inside, but he wasn’t strong enough.
‘Give me a hand!’ he yelled upwards at STIX, who looked very amused.
‘I thought you were stronger than that,’ said STIX.
‘Well, I’M NOT!’ Glar argued back. ‘Give me a freaking hand!’
‘I think the jetpack might be weighing you down.’
Glar considered it. He quickly glanced down at the ground and immediately regretted it. He clenched his eyes shut and looked straight upwards. Then in one fluid motion he let go of the ledge with his right hand, unclipped both straps around his arms, slid his arm out of the strap and grabbed onto the ledge again. Then he quickly let go of the ledge with his left arm and shook the jetpack off before immediately grabbing the ledge again. Glar pulled himself up into the room in time to look back down the side of the window, where the jetpack tumbled down towards the ground. By the time it hit the concrete at the bottom it was no longer visible. Glar gulped.
‘There you go,’ said STIX. ‘You barely needed my help at all.’
‘Look, I’m sorry that I couldn’t arrive earlier,’ Glar explained. ‘I think I might’ve left some kids in there, and I had to lay low for a few weeks, and then I got stuck in Customs, and –’
‘Don’t worry yourself,’ said STIX. ‘You’re here now, that’s all that matters.’
‘But –’
‘Unless you want to go back outside the window?’
‘No! I just thought –’
‘Good,’ said STIX. He walked over to the window and closed it up. ‘Anyway, we need to consider our next move.’
‘Our next MOVE?’ said Glar, exasperated. ‘First, you have me steal a crown – a crown, which got me internationally known as a murderous thief by the way, and even though you wear the crown all the time, you don’t even let anyone SEE you in it! And then you get me to sneak into a facility filled with CHILDREN and plant a bomb! What the HELL are you trying to do?’
‘I’ll be honest,’ said STIX. ‘The bomb was probably a bad move.’
‘You don’t say?’
‘But the crown was definitely a good one.’
‘WHY?’
‘It’s been very useful to me,’ STIX purred. ‘I promise, after all this is over, I’ll explain everything to you properly.’
‘Well… good.’
‘For now, I want you to send a message.’
Glar frowned. ‘Why me?’
‘Because only you have the stealth to get in, do the job and then get out without being noticed.’
‘But that’s exactly what you said last time when –’ Glar’s eyes widened. ‘You want me to go BACK to the Facility?!?’
‘It’s VERY important.’
‘HOW is it important, Simon?’
‘Look,’ said STIX. ‘I want to keep tabs on the medallion of Liaguo.’
Glar blinked. ‘But I’ve had that for years. I only sold it a few weeks ago.’
‘Exactly. To, what was the man’s name, Spin-Form?’
‘Actually, it was Spinform,’ Glar corrected. ‘Emphasis on the second syllable, not on, uh the first, um…’ Glar stopped himself in front of STIX’s bored expression. ‘Anyway, he said it was a present to his son, and he had a very, very large amount of money to pay for it with.’
‘How many digits?’ asked STIX.
‘A two-digit figure of digits.’
STIX whistled. ‘So, Spinform’s boy has the medallion now?’
‘Goes by the name of Rix, sir.’
‘I know,’ said STIX. ‘All of this I already know.’
‘Then WHY ask?’
‘I was curious to see if you knew too.’
Glar let out an exasperated sigh and walked over to STIX’s chair. He collapsed into it.
‘So, what’s the message?’ Glar asked. ‘Nothing too long, my memory’s going with my old age.’
‘Oh, you’re not going to TELL the boy anything,’ said the bemused STIX. ‘No, that would ruin everything. You have to slip him this note, without ANYONE seeing you.’ STIX withdrew a folded up note and passed it to Glar, who snatched it up and unfolded it quickly.
‘“When the medallion is dipped in water”,’ Glar read aloud, ‘“great things will happen.”’ Glar waved the note in front of him. ‘Are you ACTUALLY serious?’
‘I assure you,’ said STIX. ‘It is absolutely essential that the medallion is exposed to water while it is in Rix’s possession.’
‘Why Rix?’ asked Glar, beginning feel a bit sick of not understanding. ‘And why couldn’t I just go and take it off of him?’
‘Good luck with that,’ STIX scoffed. ‘Rix is the most powerful telepath in existence. He’s a perfect vessel for the medallion. If you want to steal it, go ahead. Just realise that you’re going up against a person who can make anyone do whatever he wants using nothing but his own mind.’
Glar shifted in his seat. ‘Okay,’ he said, refolding the note and slipping it back into his pocket. ‘Let’s suppose that I DO deliver this message, and he gets his necklace wet. What the hell is the point of that?’
‘That, unfortunately, is none of your concern,’ STIX sighed. ‘I suggest you leave now. If you take the Ecipon to Bunder teleporter, you should be able to make it to the Facility before the day is out.’
Glar sighed. ‘I suppose so.’
STIX smiled. ‘Good. Now, do you need help outside again, or do you think you’ll be OK?’
Glar rolled his eyes. ‘The weight of the jetpack is gone, I’ll be fine.’
‘Well, you better get going.’
Glar got up and walked drearily over to the window. He turned around to face away from the window, waved at STIX casually and jumped backwards out of the window, grabbing the window sill with ease as he fell. He waited until the momentum was gone before letting his grip go and falling two more floors, and grabbing the sill again. He continued to do this, dropping down the building comfortably, slowly descending into the busy city.

~*~*~*~*~

‘Matt, what the hell is going on?’ asked Michael as the entire YI team bustled into the space shuttle.
‘I don’t mean to use a cliché,’ said Matt, as he ushered for them to enter a room filled with beds and white walls, ‘but there really is no time to explain. I need to get us as far away from that man as possible.’
‘You mean Mr. Trench?’ said Justine. ‘Why was he yelling at you?’
‘Apparently I’m not allowed to use this ship,’ said Matt distractedly. ‘Oh well,’
‘Matt?’ said Robbie.
‘What,’ replied Matt, getting annoyed now.
‘There aren’t enough beds.’
Matt paused and looked around the room. There were indeed only seven beds.
In his mind, Matt swore at Mr. Mort for being one step ahead. Matt had wanted to bring ALL of YI team, but Mr. Mort had been strict: bring Angle L in this shuttle, send the “weaker” ones up on the other shuttle, to be placed on Angle F. Matt was having none of that: every one of these kids Matt had been raising for years, and they all deserved the same treatment. It was worse: the girl called Kat, according to Mr. Mort, hadn’t even qualified for the Facility. What was he going to tell her?
Matt did a quick headcount. He quickly checked that the seven “stronger” ones were here: Alan, Will, Franky, Mikki, Justine, Abby, and…
‘Hang on,’ said Matt. ‘Where’s Alex?’
‘Off ill,’ said Justine.
Matt swore under his breath. Alex was one of the smartest children on the planet, and she would miss this just because she was off ill. That wasn’t fair at all. On the brighter side, it gave Matt a chance to pick someone else.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘These seven people need to strap themselves into the beds. One, two, three…’ He pointed to one of the Angle L candidates with each number he blurted out. ‘four, five six, aaaaaaand…’ Matt looked around, trying to choose out of who was left who should be upgrades to Angle L.
‘And seven,’ he said, his finger landing on Danny Parsons. Danny grinned and ran over into a bed.
‘The rest of you,’ said Matt sternly, waving a hand at the ones who were left – Robbie, Tabby, Kat and the two twins he kept getting mixed up – ‘you need to go on a little trip.’
He withdrew a slip of paper from his pocket. On the paper were directions to another launch pad. Just a little one, though Matt and Mr. Mort had arranged for quite a modern ship to take these kids up – though, not quite as good a ship as this one, thought Matt with a grimace.
Matt handed Kat the slip of paper.
‘Kat,’ said Matt, ‘you need to lead the others there. There will be another ship to take you there. Someone will be there to explain everything to you. But Kat, this is important – do not get on the ship.’
Kat looked up at Matt with a confused expression that really hurt Matt.
‘Why?’ she asked quietly.
Matt bit his lip.
‘Because,’ Matt said, ‘because you need to get back to YIHQ and wrap the place up. Don’t worry, the staff there will explain everything. OK?’
Kat nodded slowly.
‘Excellent,’ said Matt. ‘Get going, then!’
The five “weaker” ones left the ship.
‘Right!’ said Matt, rubbing his hands together. He pressed a button and sealed the entrance to the ship. ‘I will be RIGHT back,’ said Matt to the other seven, now strapped to beds. ‘I’m going to launch us into space, where there won’t be much gravity. If you feel sick, please try and wait until I get the artificial gravity switched.’
‘There’s no such thing as artificial gravity,’ Alan scoffed sceptically.
‘Or aura, or teleporters, or Gods,’ Matt mumbled, mostly to himself, ‘as far as you lot are concerned.’ He turned to the pilot seat, which was fixed high up, horizontal. He frowned at this, not entirely sure how he was supposed to go about getting up there, when he spotted a ladder. Matt climbed up the ladder, slipped himself into his seat, and did up the harness. He was sure that this was violating some kind of health and safety rule, but he really didn’t care.
It only took about twenty seconds for Matt to get the engines going. Since the ship had been somewhat upgraded with up-to-date modern aura technology, the ship’s ascent from the ground was far smoother, quieter and speedier than with the nasty polluting fuels that your average Earth ship would use.
Eventually, Matt began to notice the sky become darker and the crushing weight on his seat beginning to lessen. Once he decided that they were far out enough, he switched off the engines, unbuckled his seatbelt and jumped out. The lack of gravity made jump downwards hard, so he pushed himself down the wall and got to the entrance area, where he flipped a large switch. All of a sudden, his weight became real again and dropped out of the air and hit the floor, pretty hard.
‘Ow,’ mumbled Matt as he picked himself up off the ground. He walked briskly into the infirmary where the seven children were still strapped to beds.
‘Matt?’ asked Franky. ‘Mind telling us what’s going on now?’
‘OK,’ said Matt, sighing and sitting down on a desk. ‘OK. Do you remember, when you all joined, I said that one day we would go on a little trip into space?’
They all nodded.
‘Well, this is roughly what’s happening.’ He paused, not entirely sure where to go from here. ‘Every one of you was recruited because you have a special talent. Alan –’ he pointed towards Alan, strapped in his bed and looking immensely curious – ‘you have your outstanding mind and memory.’
Al grinned.
‘Michael, your strength and sports skills. Justine, you too. Abby –’ Matt paused to flourish has hand at Abby – ‘not only your strength and agility, but the… firepower you have.’
Abby smiled and casually juggled a ball of fire from hand to hand. It was just something she was able to do, somehow.
‘William –’
‘Will,’ said Will.
‘Will,’ said Matt. ‘Your musical talent speaks for itself. But the way you can charm people so easily will become more and more useful in the future.’
Will raised an eyebrow.
‘Franky,’ said Matt. ‘Franky, Franky, Franky. You may not think it yet, but one day that burst of yours may come in very handy.’
‘How could it come in handy?’ asked Franky. ‘All it’s ever done is hurt people.’
‘You’d be surprised how far a unique skill can take you in life,’ replied Matt.
‘What about me?’ asked Danny. ‘What’s MY skill?’
Matt sighed, because this was the tricky one.
‘Danny,’ he said, ‘I don’t know if anyone has ever told you this, but you have a very special gift.’
‘You mean like the one my dad had?’ asked Danny. ‘Like how he was all like ninja and stuff?’
‘No, not the ninja skills,’ said Matt. The thought of Danny being a ninja almost made Matt chuckle. ‘No, your father had another skill. He was what’s called a Life-Flipper.’
‘A what now?’
Matt sighed. Danny had never taken anything in life seriously, and he didn’t expect him to now.
‘Life-Flippers have the ability to visit the afterlife,’ explained Matt, ‘and return safely.’
‘I’ve never done that,’ said a confused Danny.
‘That’s because the power has to be activated,’ said Matt. ‘It passes down families in a dormant form. Almost everyone with it goes their whole life not even knowing they have it, and definitely not getting it activated. But there are… circumstances in which it DOES become active.’
‘Like what?’
‘Anything that exposes you to a lot of raw aura,’ explained Matt. ‘Some kind of energy detonation, an old leaky teleporter… the direct exposure to the energy blast of a God…’ Matt grinned as if remembering something funny.
‘Wait,’ said Al. ‘What’s aura?’
‘Oh, that’s important,’ Matt said. ‘Aura is like life-force. It’s what keeps us alive, it’s what makes us able to think and feel emotions. Usually it’s inaccessible. But –’ Matt raised a finger dramatically in the air – ‘sometimes, with a lot of effort, and training, and gloves, you can learn to harness it. It’s only possible to learn do something during your adolescence. After that, you’re stuck with what you’ve got.’
‘How many people can actually do anything with aura then?’ asked Will. ‘I mean, what can you DO with it?’
‘Well, aura is basically raw energy,’ Matt answered. ‘It’s pretty dangerous when not inside someone’s body. But it can be transformed into other energy types. Very few people can actually do anything with it, but I myself can do one little trick.’
‘Ooh, let’s see this,’ said Danny.
Matt grinned and picked up a mug off of a near by table. He closed his eyes as if concentrating very hard. He passed the mug to his left hand and positioned his right hand flat, with the palm facing forwards. After a few seconds, Matt opened his eyes and threw the mug into the air. When it fell level with Matt’s right hand, he pushed forwards sharply, using the mechanical aura to squeeze the pressure between the mug and his hand. The mug shot straight forwards and smashed loudly into several pieces on the wall.
‘Luckily we’re not giving this ship back,’ said Matt happily, ‘so we don’t need to give that back.’
‘Matt, where are we GOING?’ asked Justine.
‘Uh, there’s this guy – this GOD, really, called Vityro,’ said Matt.
‘A God?’ said Al sceptically.
‘Yeah,’ said Matt. ‘There were three, two went and died, I won’t go into detail now. Anyway, Vityro felt for some reason that he wanted a hundred and fifty super-talented kids to create an army out of.’
The expressions around the room were very varied.
‘I’m super-talented,’ said Danny happily.
‘Anyway,’ said Matt, ‘we’re flying to the moon, to get teleported to another planet, and then Mr. Mort ought to give you the speech in –’
Matt paused suddenly. There was silence for a few seconds.
‘I think the phone’s ringing.’
He walked out of the infirmary and along the corridor to the control panel. As the artificial gravity technically drew everything to the SIDE of the shuttle, the long ladder was on the floor now and the seat was in a most conventional “right way up” position. The infirmary was fitted with gyroscopic walls so that no matter what way the shuttle faced, the room stayed the correct way up, which made it a lot easier for the occupants. Matt walked over to the telephone, which looked almost humorous next to the exceptionally advanced equipment. He pulled the phone up his ear.
‘Mmmmhello?’
‘Get that shuttle down on the ground now or we will blow you out of the sky.’
Matt grinned. Simon Trench the Ninth had honoured him with a phone call.
‘Oh, hello,’ said Matt. ‘I’d just like to point out that technically we are now in space and therefore can only be shot further into space, unless, under extreme chance, the debris happens to fly into Earth’s orbit.’
‘You think you’re so smart,’ said STIX furiously. ‘I’ve got three Pods on your tail. If you don’t turn around, I’m going to Mindnuke you and then shoot you into pieces.’
‘You still haven’t told me what a Mindnuke is.’
‘That’s because I want you to find out.’
STIX hung up.
Matt stared at the phone for a while before replacing it on its stand. He walked slowly back to the infirmary.
‘Little bit of a hiccup in proceedings,’ said Matt. ‘Does ANYBODY know what a Mindnuke is?’
‘Ah,’ said Al. ‘I’ve heard about this.’
‘Hm?’
‘Well, it’s some kind of secret weapon the government has been secretly working on.’
‘Must be very secret if you know about it,’ said Franky.
‘I know stuff,’ said Al in a bored tone. ‘Anyway, it’s SUPPOSED to be an entirely secret operation where they’re designing pulses that disrupt your mind.’
‘What does it actually do?’ asked Matt cautiously.
‘Memory loss, uncontrollable aggression, paranoia…’ Al shrugged. ‘Depends on how it’s programmed.’
‘Right,’ said Matt, nervously now. ‘So what does it look like?’