The Final Nexus – Chapter Three

The Final Nexus – Chapter Three

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I was too shocked to say anything in reply. I simply couldn’t understand how Aarnist could possibly be standing outside my front door – after all, I was fairly confident that we’d destroyed the only portal out of the Arvelan world six months previously. And even if they had somehow managed to reopen it they would still have had to go through the Green World, Kerpia and Elsass to get back to this world, and I didn’t see how that was possible.

“Not going to invite us in?” asked Aarnist, after I’d been standing staring for a few seconds. “Irfan, persuade him to invite us in.”

And so of course I invited them in – when a Konjässi persuades you to do something, you do it. Aarnist and Irfan came inside, leaving the other two cops outside the door.

“Who is it?” called my dad from the top of the stairs.

“You’d better come down,” I replied. “It’s the police – sort of…”’

“Now, it’s up to you how we do this,” Aarnist told me. “You can keep it simple and agree to come with us, or you can mess us about, in which case Irfan will have to make sure your parents are in no condition to make a fuss. It’s your choice.”

“And don’t think that because I can’t speak your language I won’t know what’s going on,” Irfan added. “Just tell them everything’s fine and I won’t need to get involved.”

I knew what the Konjässiem were capable of – being on the receiving end of Harlan’s manipulations had been bad enough, and he had only been twelve. The thought of what an adult would be capable of was frightening, and I didn’t want to expose my parents to it. So once we were all assembled in the living room I did my best to prevent them getting alarmed.

“This is High Captain Aarnist and Irfan ved… I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten…”

Irfan reminded me of his full name.

“Irfan ved Meluan of the Clan of the East,” I continued. “They’re police officers from the place I told you about – in the country that’s in Atlantis, sort of, remember? Well, when we escaped from there a couple of boys got killed, and Aarnist is trying to catch the person who was responsible. Don’t worry, it wasn’t me, but I’m a witness, and the High Captain needs me to go with him to make a proper statement about it.”

I broke off, switched to Arvelan and told Aarnist what I’d said so far.

“That’s true, more or less,” he agreed. “We know you didn’t pull the trigger, anyway – though I’d want to hear your version completely before I decide that you’re only a witness. And you’d better not give the impression you’ll be back any time soon, either, because there’s also the little matter of you being an escaped slave to deal with. I’m fairly sure Irfan’s colleagues at the Academy are going to want you back when we’ve finished with you.”

That brought a sick feeling to my stomach. I had no illusions about what would happen to me if I found myself back in Laztaale: this time it wouldn’t be a friendly Konjässi treating me decently – instead I’d find myself in the basement being forced to torture myself, or being used as practice for the sort of medical assassination techniques Dervoran had specialised in.

“I’m afraid I’m going to be gone for quite a while,” I told my parents. “Travelling between worlds isn’t exactly straightforward, and I think these people came by a fairly roundabout route. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone. But you shouldn’t worry – I’ll be quite safe.”

It took a while to deal with the rather panicky reaction of my mother – after all, nobody is too happy to hear that her son is involved in a police case, especially one involving murder. But I suspect that Irfan did something to calm them both a little, because in the end they didn’t argue too much. They simply sat quietly and waited while I went upstairs to collect my bag.

“Could you phone Stefan and let him know where I’ve gone?” I said as I was getting ready to leave. “His number’s written by the phone. Just tell him I’ve gone with the High Captain, otherwise he’ll have no idea what’s happened to me. I’ll call him myself when I get back, of course, but I’m not sure how long that will be.”

I didn’t think there was anything Stefan could do to help me, and in fact the last thing I wanted was for him to come charging into Arvel to try to find me, but I was fairly sure he wouldn’t be able to do that and so I judged that it was safe to tell him what had happened. At least then he wouldn’t be left thinking I’d gone off and abandoned him.

I said goodbye to my parents and followed Aarnist out of the house – at that stage I just wanted to get Irfan away from my parents. Once we were well away from the village I’d start looking for a way to escape. At least they hadn’t put me in handcuffs.

There was a perfectly ordinary car parked outside the gate. I’d been expecting a police van like the ones we’d travelled in when we were first arrested, but then I realised that if they’d come through a portal to get here they wouldn’t have been able to bring a vehicle with them. And, sure enough, the car turned out to be a perfectly ordinary, British-registered Peugeot 406. I was installed in the middle of the back seat with Irfan on one side of me and Aarnist on the other, with the two cops in the front – so there was going to be no chance of just slipping out of the car at the traffic lights.

The car moved off.

“I must congratulate you on your Arvelan,” Aarnist told me. “You must have worked phenomenally hard while you were at the Academy. Most foreigners find it almost impossible to master.”

“I like languages,” I said. “I got quite good at Sanöljan, too.” I saw no reason to tell him about the Kerpians’ implantation process. “And I should think if anyone deserves congratulations, it’s you. How on earth did you find me?”

“Ah. Well, that was easier than you might imagine. Basically, you’re the only person in this country who has an Arvelan ID chip in his arm. Once we solved the portal problem – and you’ll find out about that soon enough – it was just a question of launching a tracker, and as soon as one registered an ID chip we knew we were in the right place. Of course, we knew approximately where to look for you: - do you remember telling Harlan where you lived? Well, Harlan told his cousin about it, and when we examined Harlan’s computer we found a record of the map you used to show him where you lived. Simple, really.”

I knew I should have had that bloody chip removed, but somehow none of us had got around to it. I wished I had known this before leaving the house, because if I had I’d have made sure I got a message to Stefan about it.

“Yes, but… I mean, how did you find a portal? There aren’t any closer than the Vosges, and if you’d tried using that one I’m sure someone would have seen you.”

“We didn’t have to go that far: we opened our own portal instead. Actually, we didn't even know we had the information that would allow us to do so at first: we'd looked at a couple of the tapes taken from the interrogation your friends underwent at the school and found that, although they gave interesting detail about some of the worlds you've seen beyond the portals, there seemed to be no technical information, and so we didn't even bother looking at the rest of the records for some time. But eventually we got round to examining the others, and then we found that yours and your friend Stefan's contained extensive knowledge drawn from the Kerpians' computers. And when the scientists saw that they realised that we could probably open our own portals.

“They knew there would be no point in trying to establish a portal at home because of what you told Harlan about our continent not existing in any other world, so we decided to look in this country. I don’t suppose you can remember everything you told Irfan’s colleagues, but one of the things our scientists managed to work out was that there is some sort of rift, a kind of fault line where the various worlds are closer together, and the portals you told us about have been established along it.

“Well, if you draw a line on the map linking the two places where the Kerpians built their Nexus Rooms and then continue it in a north-westerly direction, eventually it hits this country. We weren’t sure which world you’d be in, but if we started from the right country it would at least make it easier.”

So apparently I’d been desperately unlucky: if they’d arrived in England at any other time they wouldn’t have found any trace of my ID chip, and even if they’d managed to find my home, all my parents would have been able to tell them was that I’d disappeared eighteen months earlier.

I sat back and tried to work out where we were going. Before too long we turned onto the A34 heading south, and then we were able to speed up. There was hardly any other traffic about: this was the third day of a four-day holiday, and it seemed that nobody else was going anywhere. I hoped we’d get stopped for speeding, but then I realised that even if there were any traffic police about, it wouldn’t take Irfan more than a few seconds to get rid of them.

We drove steadily down the A34 and then turned onto the A303. I wondered where we were going. I supposed that if we followed this road far enough it would take us down into Devon and then Cornwall, the part of the country nearest to where the Middle Continent would be if it existed in our world. I wondered where they had managed to open a portal… and it turned out it was a lot closer than I thought: we’d only been on the A303 for about fifteen or twenty minutes when we turned off to the right, drew into a car park and stopped.

“Here we are,” said Aarnist, opening the car door. “Out you get.”

There was a building to our right, and I was ushered into it. Inside were another Konjässi and three more policemen.

“Any problems?” asked Aarnist.

“None at all,” the Konjässi told him. “As far as anyone is concerned, the place is closed for the holidays.”

“Good. Let’s go, then.”

I was guided through the building, along a path, through an underpass that led beneath the road we’d just left, and up a ramp on the far side – and then I saw where we were.

“Stonehenge?” I queried. “Why did you decide to put a portal here – this place gets hundreds of visitors! How come nobody saw you?”

“Not during the holidays, it doesn’t. Besides, we didn’t exactly choose it. Come along – we can talk about it on the other side.”

I was now surrounded by five policemen and two Konjässiem, so even though it was dark, which might have helped me if I’d managed to get a start on them, I had no chance to slip away. They guided me to one of the arches in the outer ring, and here we found another policeman and a guy in a white coat.

“Is it open?” asked Aarnist.

“Yes, it’s fine. It seems to be completely stable.”

“Good. Come along, then, Jacob.” And Aarnist took me by the elbow and propelled me through the arch from the outside, so that we emerged into the interior of the henge – and it was immediately clear to me that I had crossed into a new world, because this place was partially lit by a number of small camping lamps and, although the light was limited, it was enough for me to be able to see that this version of Stonehenge was complete.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” said Aarnist. “As far as we can tell – we haven’t visited many of the others yet – this is the only one that’s still intact. You’ll be able to see it a lot better in the morning, and then maybe I’ll get one of the scientists to tell you what we’ve managed to find out so far. After all, if it hadn’t been for you we’d never have found this place.”

“Great! So how about saying thank you by letting me go?” I asked.

Aarnist laughed. “You know, I’m starting to like you, Jacob,” he said. “I do hope the death of the Chancellor’s son wasn’t your fault – I’d hate to have to hand you over to the Republic. Now, if you’d like to come this way…”

He paused long enough to speak quietly to the man in the white coat and then led me outside the outer ring of the henge – though not using the arch we had come in by – and across the grass to where a number of prefabricated huts were standing, looking like those temporary offices you see on building sites, or perhaps temporary classrooms at a school. He took me into one of these and along a corridor to a small room at the far end. This was furnished with a basic army bed like the ones we’d used in the Hub dormitory, a hard chair, and nothing else. There was a very small window high up in one wall.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he told me. “I know it’s a bit early to go to bed, but it can’t be helped. I’ll arrange for you to get something to eat a little later. If you need the toilet hit the little button by the door and someone will take you. And don’t do anything stupid, Jacob, all right? There are dogs on patrol outside, and I wouldn’t want you to get bitten. We’ll talk properly in the morning.”

And he went out and closed the door behind him. I didn’t bother trying it: I’d heard the key turn. Instead I went and sat on the bed and tried to work out whether there was any way out of this mess.

An hour or so later I was given another of the microwave meals I’d last ‘enjoyed’ in the police station in Arvelan Sélestat – presumably someone somewhere had a lucrative contract to supply the entire Arvelan police force with them. I asked the officer who brought it if I could have some water and perhaps something to read, and he returned five minutes later with a plastic jug full of water and a couple of battered paperback books. I said “Thank you” nicely and, once I’d finished my gourmet supper, started reading something called From a Dusty Basement, which turned out to be a detective story about a policeman trying to solve an unsolved murder committed twenty-five years earlier. It was set in a small town in the south of Arvel, but in all other respects it was a fairly standard scenario. Still, it was quite well-written, and it kept me occupied until I felt ready to go to sleep.

Next morning another policeman brought me breakfast. I’d been expecting more tasteless porridge, but in fact it turned out to be a fresh roll, some orange juice and a cup of decent coffee. And I was just finishing this off when the door opened again and Aarnist came in.

“Good morning, Jacob,” he said. “Did you sleep well?”

“Not too badly, thanks. So, what happens today – are we going back to Laztaale?”

“No. There’s no hurry – unless you’re really keen to get back to the Academy?”

“Not really.”

“I thought not. Well, if you help me out by telling me exactly what happened last summer I might be able to arrange it so that you don’t have to go back at all – or at least, not for quite a long time. After all, we’re likely to need your help again when we find the other people who were involved, so I’d prefer not to send you all the way back to Laztaale if we don’t have to. It would be unfortunate if one of the students killed you before we finished with you, don’t you think?”

I thought ‘unfortunate’ wasn’t the word I would have chosen myself, but I agreed entirely with the sentiment. Besides, as long as Irfan was standing next to him I’d end up co-operating with him whether I wanted to or not, so I thought it would be sensible to go along with his plans.

“Excellent,” he said. “Then I’ll see what we can find for you somewhere near here. Now let’s go and find Irfan, and then you can give us your statement.”

He paused and picked up the book I’d been reading.

“What do you think of this?” he asked.

“It’s okay,” I said. “It’s not particularly original, but it’s easy to read, and I’m interested to find out what happens next.”

“That’s my opinion, too. There are a whole series of these. This is one of the early ones – he’s still only a sub-officer in this one. If you like I’ll see if I can find you some of the others.”

“Could you sign it for me?” I asked. “I was thinking of making a collection of detective stories signed by senior police officers – I’ve already got one from an SS Captain…”

I only asked because this felt so like Lothar Fischer and the books written by Theodor Köninger that I thought it would be fun to take the parallel as far as the signature in the front cover, but he looked pleased by the idea. And since he was going to be the one who decided what happened to me I thought that pleasing him would be no bad idea at all, so after he’d written the words ‘To Jacob, from Aarnist of Tertrishippe” on the inside front cover I said “Thank you” politely and put the book away carefully in my bag.

He led me along the corridor into a larger room that looked more like the police interview rooms I’d seen on TV dramas, though this one had a camera instead of the normal tape recorder. Irfan was already there, so I said “Good morning” to him and sat down in front of the camera.

“Now you know how this works,” Aarnist told me. “Irfan will be able to tell if you try to lie, and that would make me very unhappy. Tell the truth and you’ll be fine. So, when I give you the sign I want you to look at the camera, start with your name, age and address – you can give the Academy as your address, since that’s where you’re registered in this world – and then tell us exactly what led up to the death of the Chancellor’s son and what happened afterwards.”

So when he gave me the signal I began, “My name is Jacob Stone and I’m fourteen years old. My registered address in Arvel is at the Central Konjässi Academy in King Juuniss the Fourteenth Street in Laztaale, though my original home address is not in this world.”

I wanted to make it clear that I wasn’t just a slave and the property of the school.

I went on to give an accurate description of what had happened: how Harlan had wanted to try out his skills on the Greys, and how eventually one of them had shot him. I made no attempt to hide the fact that I’d been only too happy to escape through the portal afterwards, though I also said that I was truly sorry that Harlan had died.

“I knew the Greys had weapons, but I never wanted them to shoot anyone,” I said. “Harlan was my friend, and I really wish he hadn’t died. You can see that’s true, can’t you?” I said to Irfan.

Irfan didn’t speak, but he did nod.

“What part did Killian ved Carran play in all this?” Aarnist asked me.

“Well, none that I could tell. Afterwards Terry… I mean Terraxian ved… I’m sorry, I can’t remember Terry’s father’s name…”

“Merlian”, supplied Irfan. “Of the Clan of the Founder.”

“Right… well, anyway, Terry said afterwards that Killian had done something to distract Harlan, and that it made him move his gun away from Stefan, and that once the gun wasn’t pointing at any of us Torth - that’s the Grey boy who had the rifle – was able to shoot him without anyone else getting hurt. But I don’t know if that’s true or not. I guess only Killian or Terry could tell you that.”

“And what happened after you went through the portal?” asked Aarnist.

“Well, eventually we found a way back to our own world. We sent Torth and Sarleth – that’s the other Grey who survived – through to a world where their own species lives, and then we just got on with our lives. But while I’m not sorry at all about escaping from the school – I think anyone would have done that if they could – I’m really sorry about what happened to Harlan. I still have bad dreams about it sometimes even now.”

“And where can we find the world where you sent the two reptiles?” asked Aarnist.

“Well… through a portal, I suppose. I’m sorry, but I really don’t know much about how you aim a portal at a particular world. I don’t think the Kerpians actually did that, anyway: I think they just opened portals wherever they could and then explored the worlds they led to. In fact it was accidentally opening a portal to the reptile world that caused them so many problems a couple of years ago – I’m sure if they’d known what was beyond the portal they would never have opened it.”

Aarnist looked at Irfan, who nodded again. “That’s the truth as he knows it,” he confirmed.

“Pity. Still, perhaps if the scientists can work out how to use the henge properly we won’t have to stumble about blindly like that. All right, thank you, Jacob.”

He turned the camera off. “What you’ve told us is more or less exactly what Terraxian ved Merlian said in his statement. And he made a point of saying that you liked Harlan and that Harlan liked you, and that you were clearly unhappy about his death. Obviously he didn’t blame you for his cousin’s death at all, even though you were the one who organised things… anyway, we need to talk to Killian ved Carran, and we need to find the reptile Torth. I’m not sure myself whether we could legitimately charge a member of another species with breaking our laws, but I’m also fairly sure that the Sanöljan Chancellor doesn’t share my doubts: he just wants someone to pay for the death of his son.”

He took me out of the building and we headed back towards this world’s version of Stonehenge, and now I could see how amazing it looked: the outer ring of stones was complete and intact, with all of the lintel stones in place as well, forming a complete and unbroken ring. And when he led me inside the ring I could see that everything else seemed to be in place, too: the five large trilithons were all intact, the smaller stones all appeared to be in place, and the altar stone, instead of lying flat on the ground, was actually set vertically. And it was around this that a trio of white-coated individuals were standing, talking in low voices.

“Good morning,” Aarnist greeted them. “How’s it going?”

“We think we’ve found another configuration,” one of the scientists told him. “We’re going to try it later this morning. It’s a pity the sheet is so worn – it’s extremely difficult to make out some of the writing, and obviously we don’t want to make the wrong connections in case we sabotage the whole thing. We’re having the images of the plates enhanced, but it might take some time to bring back some of the details, and I’m afraid some of it is probably too far gone to recover.

“On the other hand, it looks as if it might be possible to open more than one portal at a time: none of the configurations we’ve deciphered so far overlap, and if we’re right about the role of the trilithons it might even turn out that it’s possible to open every portal simultaneously. The connections would be hellishly complicated, but I think it could be done.”

“Interesting,” commented Aarnist. “It would speed things up if we could open more than one at a time. I’ll send for some more tracker drones.”

“There’s no rush,” the scientist warned him. “We’re nowhere near that stage yet. I’ll let you know well before we try opening two at a time, and we won’t want to risk more than two until we’re sure it’s safe.”

“Fine, but don’t take too long over it. I need to find the world with the reptiles in.”

He led me back outside the circle again and we strolled over to the huts. There was a bench outside the nearest one, and he invited me to take a seat and then sat down himself.

“Last night I started telling you about coming to this country in the hope of finding a portal here,” he said. “Would you like to hear the rest of it?”

“Yes, please,” I replied. It was obvious that he wanted to tell me: he was clearly delighted with the way things were going. And I wanted to hear it, too, because the more I learned about portals in England, the better my chances of escaping through one would become.

“Well, in fact the projected line from the two portals you told us about passes some way east of here. We weren’t sure that it had to be a straight line, though – after all, the planet’s tectonic plates don’t follow straight lines. Anyway, we knew that there are ways to tell if you’re near a point where the barrier between worlds is thin – you told us that, actually, but I don’t suppose you remember. And we got a massive reading on our instruments as we were passing over this place, and so we started to investigate – and it appears that this structure is an ancient nexus, like the ones the Kerpians built, only thousands of years older.

“The local people here only know that the monument has been here for a very long time. Nobody has the remotest idea what it is, though – people seem to think it’s a temple that dates back to long before the Romans arrived, and they also think it’s cursed: usually nobody comes near it. There are lots of stories of people disappearing here, which I suppose is quite possible, given what it really is.

“Anyway, we weren’t interested in its history at first: we just wanted to try opening a portal here, since apparently the worlds were closer here than anywhere else we had found. So we picked an arch at random – it’s easiest to keep a portal open if it has a proper frame, apparently – and our scientists set to work. It took them quite a long time, of course – even with the information you and your friend Stefan provided there were still some gaps. And while the scientists were working, some of my men started digging about to see what they could find, and after a while they unearthed a cache buried under a flat slab laid in front of the control stone. It contained a number of square metal plates, some with writing of some sort on and some with diagrams, and there was one larger one that we think was originally fixed to the control stone.

“Unfortunately the plates were all quite worn, which has made it hard to read them. But the scientists have worked out that they are the operating instructions that were used to open portals into different worlds. I don’t pretend to understand how it worked, but it seems that the monument is in fact a massive electrical circuit, and that if you join some of the small inner circle stones together in a particular way and connect them to one of the trilithons, you can open a portal into a particular world. They think the trilithons were some sort of electrical storage unit: the theory is that the original users rigged up metal poles during thunderstorms and somehow stored the energy that came from the lightning strikes in the trilithons, so that it could later be used to power the portals. They admit that they could be completely wrong about that, but the first users obviously had some means of powering it.

“So far we’ve opened three portals – one at a time – using the Kerpians’ methods, and the third one turned out to be the one you were in, so that was our first objective achieved. And now they’re trying to do it using the original technology – well, they’re cheating and using mains electricity, but apart from that they want to do it using the ancient circuits. And they’ve already succeeded once, so obviously the ancients actually had a working system. It’s astounding – this was so far back that even our civilizations were barely getting started, and yet in this place it was already possible to travel between worlds.”

“And is there a place like this on the other side of all the portals?” I asked. “Last night you said something about this being the only one that was intact, didn’t you?”

“That’s right. We think this was the master circuit, and that the ones in the other worlds were initially only slave circuits – in other words, you could only travel to and from the master circuit, not from one slave circuit to another. But later they started to develop it further, building complete circuits in the destination worlds, too, so that eventually it would have been possible to go from any world to any other world without coming to this one on the way. Of course, we’re just speculating, but the circuit in your world was obviously complete at one time, whereas the ones in the other two worlds I’ve seen are only partial.

“Probably we’ll never know how extensive their network was, or what happened to stop them using it – because something obviously did, or they would still have been using it when proper recorded history started here with the Romans. But perhaps we can restore it to its former glory. That would be good, wouldn’t it?”

“It depends what you’re going to do with it,” I said. “If you’re thinking of exploring and establishing peaceful relations with the people beyond the portals, fine, but if you’re thinking of using them for military purposes…”

“Now, Jacob, what do you take us for? We’re a civilised people – in fact, we’re the oldest civilization on the planet. Our days of military adventurism are a long way behind us… well, a fairly long way, anyway. Of course, it would certainly be useful to develop alternative sources for certain minerals… and we do have an expanding population to accommodate, too, so extra living space would be handy…”

He grinned at me. “Anyway, it won’t be your problem. Let’s go and find out if Irfan has had any luck finding you somewhere to stay.”

And it turned out that he had. “There’s a small children’s home in Sarutaale,” he told us. “They’d be happy to take him in the short term, or for however long it takes us to locate the reptile world. Though I still wonder if we ought to put him somewhere more secure…”

“No, I think we can trust him,” said Aarnist. “After all, if he does run off it won’t take us too long to find him – and I can assure you, Jacob, you wouldn’t enjoy what happened to you when we caught up with you. If you’re sensible you’ll stay in the place Irfan’s found for you, because the alternative would be spending the rest of your time here in that room you were in last night. So, can I trust you?”

Clearly my chances of slipping away would be impossible if I was stuck in the cell here, so I decided straight away to take up the place in the children’s home. I knew that, while it might be easy to slip away from there, it would be really hard to avoid recapture, and it would be impossible unless I could get the chip out of my arm: I knew they could track me straight away as long as I was carrying that. But, one step at a time…

“I don’t think I could really disappear in this world,” I said. “It would be pretty silly to try. So I’ll be happy to stay at the Home you’ve found. Except… would I be allowed to come back here and see how the scientists are getting on? It’s pretty amazing, and I’d like to see how the original users did it.”

“Of course you can. I’ll arrange a pass for you. Now if you’d like to go and fetch your bag we’ll run you into Sarutaale and you can start to get settled in.”

I walked back to the room I’d spent the night in and collected my bag. I’d meant what I’d said to Aarnist: I had no intention of trying to run in this world. My only real chance of escape would be to use one of the portals – if I could get rid of the chip first, they wouldn’t be able to track me if they didn’t know which world I was in. Obviously my own world would be best, but I’d settle for another one if I had to, because I knew that, once he had no more use for me, Aarnist wouldn’t hesitate to send me back to the Academy. Right now he was playing Good Cop to get me to co-operate, but I was pretty sure that it wouldn’t last.

Five minutes later I was sitting beside Irfan in the back of a small electric car heading south. It only took around ten minutes to reach the children’s home, which was on the northern edge of a large town. Irfan took me inside and introduced me to the manager, and then he took me to one side.

“There’s a bus stop just down the road where you can get a bus back to the monument,” he told me. “The manager is going to get your chip credited with enough money to make the journey every two or three days. If we need you sooner we’ll come and get you. And don’t do anything stupid – we’re going to be keeping an eye on you.”

And he turned and left. I hadn’t actually needed that last warning: I’d already come to the conclusion that, unless Aarnist was a complete idiot, there would be a tracker drone keeping an eye on me for the first two or three days at least. So I intended to behave perfectly for long enough to convince them that I was going to play ball.

By the time I got back to the manager’s office he’d been joined by a pair of blond boys who looked so alike that they had to be twins.

“This is Clovis and Carlis,” he told me. “They’ll show you your room.”

“I’m Clovis, he’s Carlis,” said the first one as they let me along a corridor. “Who are you?”

“I’m Jake,” I said. “How many kids live here?”

“In this building, you’re the eighth. There’s another building next door for girls, but they keep us apart from them, so if you were hoping to get yourself a girlfriend here, unlucky.”

“That wasn’t the first thing on my mind, no. What’s it like here?”

“It’s all right. The food’s not bad, the rooms are pretty good and they leave us alone most of the time. Of course, when I say the rooms are good, it does depend who you find yourself sharing with.”

For some reason that sent both of them off into a fit of the giggles.

“So who am I sharing with?” I asked.

“You’ll see,” said Clovis, between giggles.

Oh, great, I thought, they’ve put me in with someone who snores, or who sleepwalks, or who’s about seven feet tall, is built like Schwarzenegger and likes beating up his room-mates. But when they knocked and opened the door at the end of the corridor the only inhabitant was a weedy-looking kid of about my own age.

“You’ve got a new roomie,” Clovis told him. “Can we stay and watch?”

“Of course,” the kid said. “It’s more fun with an audience.”

I had no idea what he was talking about. I know I’m not a great fighter, but this kid was skinny, with a pinched face and with his left arm held against his chest in a way that made me think it was damaged somehow. He had short hair the same shade of dark brown as mine, and brown eyes, and a big smile that worried me a bit: was I going to have to share a room with a loony?

And then I dropped my bag, rapidly removed all my clothes and stood in the middle of the room stark naked. It wasn’t my idea, but there was nothing I could do about it, because the kid wasn’t a loony: he was a Konjässi.

“Nice,” he said, approvingly.

“He’s quite big, isn’t he?” commented Clovis – the twins had come closer to admire the view. “How old is he?”

“He’s fourteen,” answered the Konjässi, before I could even open my mouth. “And… that’s interesting: it looks like that because of some religious rite that was carried out when he was a baby. I’ve never heard of that before. Shall we see how big I can make it?”

He was good, this kid, at least as good as Harlan had been, because I began to feel really great: it felt exciting to be naked, and when I felt my penis begin to twitch it felt even better. Soon it was fully erect.

“That is quite big, isn’t it?” said the Konjässi. “What do you two think?”

“I like it,” said Carlis, and to prove it he started to stroke it. And I still couldn’t move a muscle, though I didn’t really want to at that point. Clovis joined in, feeling my hair and stroking my balls, and I was getting to the point where I was going to lose control of myself… and then the Konjässi said “You’d better stop – he’s getting too close. But he definitely likes it – don’t you?”

“Yes,” I admitted. “It feels brilliant.”

“Good. Then you’re going to fit in really well.”

He released me and I was able to move again. There didn’t seem to be any point in rushing to get dressed, so instead I just picked up my clothes, carried them to the bed at the other side of the room and sat down.

“My name’s Jake,” I told him. “Of course, I expect you know that already – in fact you probably know everything there is to know about me.”

“Not quite,” he said. “I couldn’t make out where you come from, for a start. But I got your name. I’m Declan.”

“Just Declan?” I queried. “No patronymic? No Clan?”

“Just Declan,” he said, and I caught a feeling of sadness. “I’ve no idea who my father was – my parents took one look at me and dumped me. I can’t say I blame them, though – who wants a cripple for a son?”

I could also tell that he did blame them, but I thought this wasn’t the time to say so.

“What’s wrong with you?” I asked. “You look okay to me.”

“No, I don’t. You’ve already noticed the arm, so don’t pretend you haven’t. And my left leg doesn’t work, either.”

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with your brain,” I said. “You’ve got excellent control – there was nothing I could do, and you did it without making me puke, too.”

“Ah, you’ve been controlled before, then. Well, yes, I am quite good – but then you didn’t really mind what we did to you, did you?”

“I suppose not,” I admitted, a bit embarrassed. “But I still wouldn’t have stripped off before we’d even been introduced if you hadn’t made me.”

“I guess not. Anyway, you’d better get dressed in case the other kids come to meet the new arrival.”

So I did that, and then I told them a bit about myself, and in particular where I lived and the short version of how I came to find myself in this world.

“Oh, come on!” said Clovis, scornfully. “Another world? That’s crap!”

“No, it isn’t,” said Declan. “He’s telling the truth. It’s hard to believe, but he isn’t making it up. So you got here through the Cursed Circle? And there are scientists trying to open more of these portals there now?”

“That’s right. I’ll be going back tomorrow to see how they’re doing. You can come with me, if you like – I’m sure Aarnist won’t mind.”

I didn’t know if he would mind or not, but I thought it would be fun to have some other boys of my own age with me. Well, the twins were obviously a year or two younger than me…

“They’re twelve,” said Declan, disconcertingly. And that indicated that I wasn’t going to keep even my casual thoughts private unless I could find a metal band.

“You can have one later,” he added. “The twins have them, and I suppose it would be fair to let you have one too, since you’re going to be sharing the room. But it is fun being able to see everything you’re thinking.”

At lunchtime I was introduced to the remaining four residents, and that came as rather a shock too: Clovis told me they were local kids, rather than of Middle Continental stock like himself and his brother, and so when he introduced me to the nearest of them, whose name was Peter, I addressed him in English, introducing myself and saying I was pleased to meet him. And he looked at me blankly.

“Hvad saejer du?” he asked. “Jeg førstor deg ikk.”

“Huh? Aren’t you English?”

That just brought a shrug, so I switched back to Arvelan and asked the same question – though there didn’t seem to be a word for ‘English’, so I left it in English.

Peter blinked. “What’s ‘English’?” he asked. “I’m a Vestdansker. What are you?”

“Well…where I come from people speak a language called ‘English’,” I said.

“There was a dialect called Anglish a long time ago,” said Declan. “It was spoken by some of the Germanic invaders about fourteen hundred years ago, I think. But now everyone here speaks Vestdansk, and that’s been spoken here for well over a thousand years.”

Well, I suppose there was a certain logic to it: if William the Conqueror had never invaded, leaving Britain under the Saxons and the Norsemen instead, the English language wouldn’t have developed as it had in my world. But it meant that in this world I couldn’t even speak what should have been my own native language.

After lunch the twins took me for a walk into town and showed me the local shops, though since I didn’t have any credit on my chip I couldn’t actually buy anything. But they also showed me where I could catch the bus back to Stonehenge, and that was something I did need to know.

After supper Declan asked if I would help him to take a bath.

“The twins normally do it,” he said, “but since you’re my roomie now it would be good if you could do it instead. I can wash myself, it’s just getting into and out of the bath that’s a struggle on my own.”

So of course I said I wouldn’t mind at all, and I helped him get undressed. And when I was down to his briefs and I could see his body for the first time I realised how difficult it was for him: the left arm and left leg were both atrophied, making it impossible for him to walk, or even use crutches: if he wanted to go anywhere he would have to use his electric wheelchair, or persuade someone to carry him. And…

“Hey, Jake, do you mean that?” he asked.

“Do I mean what?”

“What you’re thinking – that it must suck to be me?”

“Well, sort of. I was thinking how tough it must be to have a mega-massive brain and at the same time to be stuck in a body that doesn’t work properly. I’m really sorry, Declan.”

“Yes, you really are,” he said. “Wow, Jake, you’re the first person to react like that. Most people are either so scared of what I can do that they think it serves me right to be crippled, or the ones who don’t feel like that – like the twins – usually just pretend there’s nothing wrong with me at all. I mean, obviously that’s better, but you’re the first person who has actually understood, and who genuinely sympathises. Thanks.”

“That’s okay. Now, how do we do this? Do I carry you to the bathroom, or do you use the chair?”

“Well, it might be fun to see if you can carry me without dropping me, but I think I’d prefer to play safe. I’ll use the chair, and you can help me into the bath when we get there.”

So I helped him into his wheelchair and then followed him a short distance down the corridor and into the bathroom. He ran the bath and wriggled his way out of his briefs, and then I helped him into the bath.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

I’d been trying not to stare, but of course it was hopeless to try to hide what I was thinking from him. I really did need to find a metal band.

“Yes, I can see that you do,” he went on. “All right, it’s not as big as yours, but it’s not too bad, and I’ve got some hair now… yes, I have, on my balls. Look more closely – see? The twins tease me because they’re getting some and they’re two years younger than me, but I’ve told them that if they annoy me too much about it I’ll make them shave theirs off and keep them shaved until they’re eighteen. I mean, I wouldn’t, not really, but the threat keeps them from getting too lippy.”

“And is it… I mean, you know, does it…?

“Does it work, you mean? Oh, yes. It’s only the arm and leg that don’t. Do you want to see how big it can get? Go on, then, wash it for me.”

Okay, maybe I should have thought of Stefan and refused, but I thought it unlikely that Declan had very much of a sex life – except possibly from the twins, and somehow that wouldn’t be the same as a one-on-one – and so I did as he suggested, and pretty soon I got the result he wanted. And it looked good, too: it was very hard, about the same thickness as mine and maybe a centimetre and a half shorter. There was no visible hair at the base of it, but he was right about there being a few on his balls.

“That’ll do,” he said. “I don’t want any accidents. But I’m glad you like doing that – we’ll have to do it some more later.”

.I stood back and let him get on with washing himself and then helped him by washing his hair for him.

“I thought the Konjässiem all had long hair,” I queried.

“I’m not exactly a standard Konjässi,” he replied. “No father, no Clan, so I don’t bother about the clothes or the haircut, either. People look at me and just see a boy in a wheelchair, so they don’t try to hide what they’re thinking the way they might if they knew what I was. It’s sometimes useful not to advertise.”

He finished off and stood up, supporting himself against the wall while I dried him off, and then I helped him back into his chair and followed him back to our room. He stopped the chair beside the bed and transferred himself expertly onto it.

“Aren’t you going to wear anything in bed?” I asked.

“Not tonight. And I don’t think you should, either.”

He pushed himself to the far side of the bed and lay there waiting, the covers still pushed back invitingly. And I barely hesitated: I didn’t like sleeping on my own if I didn’t have to, and clearly I wasn’t going to have to while I was here. I went back to my own bed, got undressed, piled my clothes up on the bed and then walked back across the room and got in beside him.

“So,” I asked, pulling the covers over us, “do you do this with every new kid?”

“No... Sure, I play sex games with the twins, and with Peter and Godfrey too, sometimes – and I hope you’re going to join in with those. But this is different: this is about just being with someone.”

“But you’ve only just met me!”

“You’re forgetting what I am: I’ve had a good chance to explore inside your head now, and I really like what I’ve seen. But I don’t know too much about your world, or the detail of how you ended up here. I’d like to, though…”

I wondered very briefly if this was some sort of ploy by Irfan to get me to open up – after all, Declan was a Konjässi, and a skilled one, too: someone had clearly been training him, even if he didn’t consider himself part of any of the Clans. But I dismissed the idea almost at once – after all, he would have no trouble at all taking me over and making me speak if he wanted to. Besides, I’d already told Irfan the truth, so there would be no harm in talking to Declan now.

So I snuggled up to him and told him the first part of my story. I told him about Stefan, too, explaining how I felt about him.

“That’s all right,” he said. “I’m only borrowing you.”

And that was good enough for me. I settled down and went to sleep.

---------------------------------------------------------------

So now you know what Stonehenge was really for... possibly. Anyway, Jake's on his own this time: no Stefan, and none of his other friends, either. How is he going to cope? Not too badly, to judge from his new fellow residents...

Your thoughts, comments or questions are always welcome, so send them to gothmog@nyms.net and I'll be happy to reply to you.

Copyright 2011: all rights reserved. Please do not reprint, repost or otherwise reproduce this or any part of it anywhere without my written permission.

David Clarke