About the Book
Find the Key! Open the Doorway! Enter the Other World!
Keagan finds a key …
It opens a doorway …
He steps through …
Into a weird world of clones who are obsessed with perfection. But this world isn’t as perfect as it seems. Keagan is determined to return home – all he has to do is find a way out of the city, survive the Dumping Ground and outsmart a bunch of rogue clones!
Will Keagan escape Perfect World?
Contents
Cover
About the Book
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Other Worlds
Epilogue
Books by George Ivanoff
Copyright Notice
For my parents, with much love and appreciation.
Pickles!
Keagan tried to keep his mind on his errand, but his thoughts kept wandering. He was worried about school and homework and bullies. He was also thinking about the latest computer game and how he was going to annihilate his best friend, Ravi, in the online tournament they had planned for this afternoon.
Pickles.
But before anything else, he needed to get the pickles his mum had sent him out for.
He stopped at the crossroads. The main road curved around the industrial estate and led to the supermarket on the other side. He wasn’t supposed to go through the industrial estate. His overly protective mum was worried about all the trucks racing in and out of the factories. ‘Those truckies are crazy drivers,’ she would complain. ‘I don’t want you anywhere near them.’
Today was Sunday, Keagan told himself. Wouldn’t all the factories be shut? Which would mean no trucks. If he nipped through, he could get to the supermarket quicker.
Keagan preferred to play things safe. He always went along the main street whenever he went to the shops. But for some reason, today he had the urge to try something different. It was almost like he craved adventure. Not that there was likely to be any adventure among a bunch of closed factories.
Making up his mind, Keagan took the detour.
It wasn’t long before his eyes were drawn to a shop. A shop? Among all the factories?
He squinted at the little store nestled between two deserted warehouses scheduled for demolition:
MATILDA’S COLLECTABLES.
He approached it.
The display window was chock-full of weird stuff. Grotesque statues, taxidermied animals, creepy dolls and lifelike portraits with their eyes cut out stared at him through the glass. His curiosity was now battling with his pickle errand, pulling him towards the shop.
Curiosity won!
Keagan entered.
Dark, dingy and musty, the shop was cluttered and cramped, liberally decorated with cobwebs and dust. It was a cliché right out of some horror novel. No one answered his timid call of ‘Hello?’, so he decided to have a quick look around.
He found himself drawn to a glass cabinet at the opposite end of the cluttered shop. Grimy and covered in dust, he couldn’t quite make out what was in it from this distance. But for some reason, he had to know.
Keagan began to make his way through the store, circling around a table piled high with coloured glass bottles and squeezing past a suit of armour. A stack of comic books, almost at chest height, distracted him for a moment. Despite his love of comics, the cabinet drew him on.
It stood up against one wall, an empty area of wooden floor in front of it, like a clearing in a forest. The door was latched with a combination padlock. He could see only two items behind the glass, sitting beside each other on the middle shelf – a mangy old stuffed cat and a computer chip. An odd couple of things to have locked away together, Keagan thought.
Keagan reached out and wiped the glass with his hand, smearing the grime. He peered in, wondering if he could get the lock open. There was something else in there, to the back of the shelf, beyond the cat and the computer chip. It was small and dark and he couldn’t see what it was.
‘Weird!’ he whispered to himself.
‘Most things are.’
Keagan almost jumped out of his skin. He whirled around.
On the other side of the dusty shop counter stood a woman. She was old, but her eyes sparkled with energy. Dark, creased skin contrasted with an explosion of stark white hair and unruly eyebrows. Creepy old woman in a creepy old shop? Keagan mentally placed a tick in another cliché box.
‘H … h … hello,’ stuttered Keagan.
‘Hello yourself,’ answered the woman, the hint of a smile tweaking the corners of her mouth.
‘There was no one here when I came into the shop,’ explained Keagan. ‘So I thought I’d check it out.’
‘And you were drawn to the cabinet, I see,’ said the woman, her voice an odd raspy singsong. She leaned on the counter, watching him. ‘Why, I wonder?’
Keagan shrugged. ‘It kind of caught my eye.’
The old woman nodded slowly and Keagan wondered if this was Matilda.
‘Um …’ began Keagan. ‘Can I see that computer chip?’
‘Why?’ snapped the woman.
Keagan was a little taken aback by the ferocity of her response. ‘N … no reason,’ he stammered. ‘I suppose I’m curious.’ His mind raced as he tried to make sense of the situation and why, indeed, he wanted to hold the chip. ‘I’m into computers and stuff.’ He paused. ‘So I wanted to … to … take a closer look at it.’ He paused again. ‘To hold it.’
‘You’re drawn to it, aren’t you?’ She stared at him, her face alight with excitement. ‘Am I right?’
Keagan didn’t respond. He did feel something … he just wasn’t sure what.
The woman was smiling now. ‘It’s like it’s calling to you. You have a need to reach out and touch it, don’t you?’
Keagan realised the woman was right. There was a strange feeling deep in his core, connecting him to the computer chip.
‘I was right.’ There was triumph in her voice. ‘I knew it! It is a key.’
‘A key?’ Keagan asked.
‘A key,’ repeated the lady. ‘Yes, it looks like a piece from the inside of some technological monstrosity … but it’s not. It is a key.’
‘Um.’ Keagan was puzzled. ‘Right.’
‘It’s disguised.’ The lady huffed. ‘Like a chameleon.’
‘If it’s a key, what does it open?’
‘A door, of course. Duh!’
Keagan looked from the shop’s front door to the one behind the counter, a bit fed up with her talking down to him. ‘Oh yeah? Which door?’
The woman laughed, a mischievous glint in her eyes. ‘Not any of these doors. Not any ordinary door. Not any door that you can see.’
‘So this chameleon key opens extraordinary invisible doors, does it?’ said Keagan, putting his hands on his hips and raising an eyebrow, the way his mother sometimes did when she was poking fun at him.
‘Such a smart mouth you have,’ said the lady, her laughter drying up. ‘Perhaps it’s time for you to get out of my shop.’
‘Get out!’ the old woman said again, turning her back on Keagan.
‘Sorry,’ said Keagan. He didn’t want to leave. He desperately wanted to know more about the comp
uter chip key. Curiosity burned within him like never before.
‘Apology accepted,’ said the woman, turning to face him. Her smile returned. ‘Now, what’s your name?’
‘Keagan.’
‘Keagan,’ repeated the woman, her voice dropping to a whisper. ‘Interesting. It means Keeper of Keys.’
‘Does it?’ He wanted to bring the conversation back to the computer chip but didn’t want to appear too eager. He figured he should ask her name first. ‘I suppose you’re Matilda?’
‘Indeed I am,’ she replied proudly. ‘A fine name. Given to me by my grandmother.’
Keagan didn’t care. What he wanted to do was get his hands on the chip. He could feel his fingertips tingling with anticipation.
‘Nice to meet you,’ he said. Then he could hold back no longer. ‘Um … can I hold the computer chip?’
Matilda glared at him and he withered under her stare. ‘I might buy it,’ he said, searching for an excuse. ‘But I need to see it properly first.’
‘Maybe.’
The old woman scuttled out from behind the counter, squeezing past the suit of armour to move towards him. She was dressed in layers of black – scarves over cardigan, over shirt, with a voluminous black skirt that swished and folded around her. Copious amounts of gold and silver jewellery jangled and tinkled as she moved.
Keagan’s eyes focused on her shoes. She wore a pair of bright pink high-top sneakers covered in pictures of kittens.
‘What?’ blurted Matilda, as she noticed the direction of Keagan’s eyes. ‘I like cats.’
Keagan lifted his gaze to the cabinet where the stuffed cat stared down at him with glass eyes. He quickly looked elsewhere … to see another stuffed cat. Glancing around, he became aware that there were cats everywhere. There was even a cat bed filled with taxidermied kittens sitting on the counter. This was too freaky for words.
Keagan started as Matilda reached out a hand and clasped his shoulder. ‘Are you ready to go exploring?’
‘I’m more of a sit-at-home sort of person,’ explained Keagan, twisting out of her grasp.
‘Are you now?’
‘Um … yeah.’ Keagan shrugged. ‘I spend a lot of time reading and doing stuff on my computer.’
‘Stuff?’
‘Yeah … stuff.’ Keagan saw she was expecting more of an answer. ‘You know … reading and watching sci-fi, playing online games with my friend Ravi, surfing the Net, doing a bit of programming.’ Being a complete nerd, Keagan thought to himself. Avoiding bullies at school by staying in the library at lunchtime.
‘Ah!’ Matilda nodded. ‘That’s why your key is a computer chip.’
‘My key?’
‘Yes, your key.’ She stared at Keagan, as if trying to decide something important. ‘There are many keys. All over the world.’ Matilda paused. ‘Each key is connected to a person.’
‘Connected?’
‘Yes, connected!’ she said. ‘An empathic link.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Emotions,’ snapped Matilda. ‘It’s tied into something about the way you feel, or think.’ She studied him intently. ‘Each key is linked to someone. Sometimes more than one person.’
‘Does everyone have a key?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Matilda laughed. ‘Only special people are connected to a key.’
‘I’m special?’ Keagan was used to the other kids at school calling him weird. He was used to the teachers referring to him as unusual. He liked the idea of being special a whole lot better.
‘Special. Unique. Unusual. Eccentric. Odd. Weird. Freakish! It’s all the same. Now shut up and listen.’ Matilda sighed. ‘A special person will find themselves drawn to a key – as if it’s calling to them. They will want to touch it. By touching it, they open a doorway to another world.’
‘What?’ Keagan blurted out, doing a mental double take over this incredible revelation. ‘Another world? Are you joking?’
‘Why would I be joking?’ Matilda ran a hand across her brow in frustration. ‘Stop interrupting. I could get the explanations over with a lot faster if you refrained from interrupting me.’
‘Sorry,’ said Keagan, trying to calm down. He took a deep breath to get his racing thoughts and heart under control. This was mad … and yet, deep down, he somehow knew it was all true.
‘Each key opens a door to another world.’ The woman pulled a pair of white gloves from a pocket in her cardigan and put them on. ‘By touching the key, you activate it.’ She unlocked the cabinet and opened the glass door.
‘So you’re wearing the gloves so you don’t set off my key?’ asked Keagan.
‘Perhaps I am not being clear enough?’ said Matilda, putting a finger to her temple and massaging it. ‘Only you can activate your key.’ She held her gloved hands up in front of Keagan’s face. ‘I’m wearing gloves so that I don’t accidentally activate my key.’
‘Your key?’
‘Yes, my key.’
‘You have a key?’
‘Yes, I have a key!’
Keagan’s eyes settled on the taxidermied cat. ‘That’s your key? A stuffed cat?’
‘I like cats.’ Matilda reached into the cabinet. Her hand went straight for the cat. With a sharp intake of breath, she stopped herself, her hand hovering before the stuffed feline. She moved her fingers, as if tracing the outline of the long-dead animal in the air around it. ‘The urge to touch it is great.’ Keagan could hear the strain in her voice. ‘That is why I wear the gloves.’
Keagan gazed into the cabinet and saw that the third object at the back of the shelf was an old tarnished copper coin. He wondered if that was a key too.
With great effort, Matilda diverted the course of her hand from the cat and plucked the computer chip from the shelf.
Instinctively, Keagan reached for the key.
‘Not yet,’ said Matilda, closing her hand around it. ‘You need to understand what will happen when you touch it.’
‘How come you don’t want to touch yours?’ asked Keagan.
‘I do want to,’ explained Matilda. ‘The desire to use the key is quite strong, in fact. But …’ She hesitated. ‘I also have a bad feeling about it.’ She stopped Keagan before he could interrupt. ‘Evil. I can sense something malevolent. A key is supposed to let the right person through a doorway into another world. As for my key … Well … I think there’s something on the other side that wants to come into our world. Something that shouldn’t. Something dangerous.’
‘How come you know so much about all this?’ asked Keagan.
‘I’m a collector,’ she said, sweeping her arms around in a gesture to indicate the contents of her shop. ‘I collect all sorts of things. And my favourite thing to collect is information.’ She pointed to the shelves laden with dusty old books. ‘And I’ve been collecting information about the keys for a very long time.’ She smiled. ‘I’m older than I look.’
‘Are you?’ Keagan thought she seemed pretty old.
‘Cheeky,’ the woman muttered as she placed the computer chip down onto a side table. Keagan’s eyes followed it hungrily.
‘No!’ she commanded, as if she were training a puppy. ‘Wait.’
Keagan clasped his hands together to stop himself. The urge was getting harder to resist.
Matilda reached into the cabinet again, this time to a lower shelf. From the shadows, she pulled out a slim plastic folder. She handed it to Keagan. The black cover was covered in cute, colourful kitten stickers. He opened it. Inside the plastic sleeves were ancient scraps of parchment.
‘There are references to the doorways and other worlds in many ancient texts,’ said the woman. ‘But these are from a book called The Multitude of Other Worlds. Sadly, I have been unable to track down any more of it.’
The scraps in the folder were covered in dense indecipherable scrawls.
‘An ancient language,’ she explained. ‘I’ve managed to work out some of it. The information is incomplete, but it’s useful. And you need
to know it before you use your key.’
Keagan’s eyes drifted again to the computer chip. The need within him was growing. He marvelled that this strange old woman was able to resist her key. Yet, she seemed in no doubt that he would use his.
‘Each key can only be used once,’ she continued. ‘When you touch it, a doorway into another world will open. It is up to you whether or not you go through, although you will want to.’
‘So, what about coming back?’ asked Keagan.
‘Ah!’ Matilda held up a finger and waggled it. ‘Now that … I don’t know.’
‘What?’ Keagan was alarmed.
‘The information I have is incomplete. I think you should be able to return. There is a reference to being “led home”. I don’t know what that means. So you’ll have to work it out for yourself.’
‘What about the coin?’ Keagan looked back at the cabinet. ‘Is it another key?’
‘I think so,’ said Matilda. ‘My grandmother always kept the three objects together, so I assume it is. But I won’t know for sure until someone is drawn to it.’
Grandmother? wondered Keagan. Had the key disguised itself as a computer chip before they had even been invented? How was that possible? But then, how was any of this possible?
Matilda snatched the folder back from Keagan and returned it to the cabinet. Closing and locking the door, she slipped the gloves off.
Keagan tried not to look at the computer chip, but couldn’t help himself. Surely her lecture was finished. He reached for the key.
‘WAIT!’
Startled, Keagan leapt back, tripped and fell against the display cabinet. It teetered on its old legs and he grasped it. The stuffed cat fell forward, and for a moment, Keagan imagined that the creature leapt in the air. Then the glass shattered and the cat fell out.
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