by Nick Wilford
Wellesbury shook his head. “Never heard of them.”
“Oh, God.” Mallinger rubbed his fingers across his temples, feeling those mysterious lumps. “It all makes sense. Stupid old man! No one gets ill here, do they? There’s no disease. So there aren’t any doctors. I’m going to die here just the same as I would have at home, except here, I don’t have my family.”
First one tear, then another coursed down his cheek and landed on his sparkling white prison uniform, before disappearing.
Wellesbury said, “Look. I’ll work something out. There must be someone here who can help you. What’s the reason everyone’s healthy here? I’ve never thought about it before, but you’ve opened my eyes. Listen, we’ve not got much time. How... ill... are you?”
Mallinger wiped his eyes. “You must think I’m a baby. I’ve maybe got like... twelve days, two weeks tops.”
“Right.” Wellesbury pushed aside his confusion at the situation and thought of what he could do. “I’ve got school today, but I’m free for a couple of hours after that. I’ll find someone. We can fix this.”
What have I got myself into?
“Time’s up,” boomed the voice over the speaker.
“It was nice to meet you, Wellesbury,” said Mallinger. “Will you really help me? You don’t think I’m a demon, do you?”
Wellesbury laughed, in a slightly stilted way. “No. And I do believe in the place you come from. That sounds odd, but a lot of people here don’t think anywhere exists outside this country. That’s what we’ve been told. Up until recently I’ve gone along with it... but I’ve been getting this feeling that everything isn’t as it seems. It’s like you’ve come along and confirmed it.”
“Well, it’s nice to know you believe I exist. But I’m not going to for much longer...”
“I know. I promise I’ll do everything I can. And I’ll be back. Friends?”
“Friends. I could really use one in this place.”
The door swung open and the warder stood there like a solid block. Wellesbury gave a final nod towards his new friend and followed the warder back through the corridors and into the lobby. The warder stopped him before he got to the exit doors.
“What did he say to you?” asked the warder, standing close to Wellesbury and fixing him with his eyes. His voice wasn’t flat this time, but low and menacing.
“Oh...” Wellesbury shifted his weight from one leg to another. “Just about his home country. He wants to get back to them. He doesn’t think he should have come here.”
“And you shouldn’t have come here. I was a fool for letting you in. The boy’s a demon, and I want you to forget any poisonous nonsense he’s put into your head. Understand?”
Wellesbury gulped and nodded, his eyes darting to the left and right under the piercing pressure of the warder’s stare.
“Good. Now go, and don’t come back here again.”
Wellesbury exited in a hurry and peered around for a moment. The weather was the same. The buildings were the same. So were the people. But everything was also, in an indefinable way, just a little bit different. Other worlds were out there beyond this one... or other countries. He and his peers had always been told theirs was the only surviving colony on the planet, after mankind had consumed and polluted itself almost into extinction. But now... who knew the truth?
Only one thing was certain. He would have to be careful. If he was sensible, he would heed the warder’s words. But now he was even more intrigued, and he wouldn’t easily give up on the strange, lost boy in that cell.
Chapter 3
The warder stood in front of the governor’s desk, in a remote office somewhere near the back of the prison.
“So who was that child that came to visit that... demon, or alien, or whatever the hell we should call that little scoundrel?” barked the governor.
“Wellesbury Noon, sir,” said the warder. “I’ve checked his credentials. Sixteen years old, attends Magnificence High School, lives with parents in the south-western section of the city. Perfect grades at school, although,” he sneered, “we both know that does not say a lot. A star in the junior gravball league. Doesn’t give any cause for concern.”
The governor swivelled in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him. Abruptly, he stopped and leaned forward, pinning the warder with his stare.
“Then why,” he bellowed, “is he using his unscheduled time to visit a... creature who should be eradicated, or at least sent back where he came from?”
“I do not know, sir,” said the warder, standing his ground, although he preferred to keep his gaze fixed on a point on the wall behind his superior’s head rather than look the man in his small, livid eyes.
“Then find out! Did you listen to their conversation?”
The warder coughed, not putting his hand in front of his mouth. “No, sir. I was... engaged in other matters. But we have the recording, of course.”
“Bring it to me,” said the governor more softly, settling back in his seat. “And let’s get to the bottom of this. I need to know what that boy is up to in case he causes any trouble. We may need to have his movements followed. And the entire case may need to be referred to a higher level.”
The warder frowned for a fraction of a second, then said, “Yes, sir.”
“Now get back to your post.”
*
Wellesbury found it hard to concentrate at school that day. It all felt more and more pointless; he knew everything and would get top marks anyway. He found himself examining every surface, looking for any sign of imperfection. There was none. What was life like in his new friend’s world? Children dropping dead left, right and centre. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like, and in their first chat they had barely scratched the surface.
At lunchtime he avoided the company of the guys – he couldn’t be bothered to deal with Hedgeson, and didn’t want the subject of Salvo’s eyewitness account of the outsider to come up again, in case he let something slip – so he went to the library. Although a flawless outcome in examinations was guaranteed, such extra study was logged and went on his school record. That was the sort of thing that would really help him land a job just that bit better than his peers.
Wellesbury sat down at a computer terminal and accessed the infraweb. His fingers hesitated above the keys for a few moments. All computer activity was recorded and undeletable. They would know he had been looking up strange words. Whatever “they” meant – the school? The government? How would he be able to explain such activity if questioned?
Well, it was a life-or-death situation. He had to start somewhere. He performed a search for “dizeese”. Nothing came up. Then – what were the people called that Mallinger thought could help him? “Docters.” Nothing.
He had no clue where to begin to help his friend. At a loss, he slumped back and rubbed a hand over his face.
“You look worried,” said a sweet-sounding voice.
Wellesbury sat up with a jolt and looked around. There was Ezmerelda, a few desks away, sitting hunched over her studies. He’d been so consumed with his own thoughts that he hadn’t noticed her upon entering. That was a good indication of how preoccupied he was, as she stood out from the rest of the crowd as different somehow. He liked her – she was a bit of a loner as he could sometimes be, and those emerald eyes dazzled him every time.
She glanced up from her own terminal and gave him a smile that, though small, ignited something in his soul. He smiled back, and waved awkwardly.
“Want to tell me what’s up?” she asked.
Wellesbury opened and shut his mouth a couple of times. It was unthinkable to tell someone in the class where he’d been, and he didn’t want any further ridicule, especially from someone he admired.
Her face creased up in apparent amusement at his floundering, and she said, “Okay, I’ll put you out of your misery. I know where you were this morning.”
“What?” He looked around quickly to ensure they were alone, then scooted over
to sit in the chair next to her. “How...?”
“Oh, yes. I hear things, you see. I’d already heard about the visitor, of course... that’s pretty common knowledge now. Then I heard my dad talking about you before school. I think you did something really great, Wellesbury.”
Leaving aside the wave of wellbeing that enveloped him upon hearing these last words, Wellesbury said, “Your dad?”
“He works for the government. It’s all hush-hush, of course, but he doesn’t keep it a secret from his own family. He doesn’t talk about anything with me, because I’m just a kid –” she rolled her eyes – “but I overhear him and Mum talking plenty. Mostly him ranting and raving. You weren’t painted in a favourable light, I’m afraid to say.”
“You probably shouldn’t be telling me this,” said Wellesbury in a lower voice, looking in the opposite direction furtively. He remembered the conversation with the warder. “They could be recording this.” Hang on, why hadn’t he thought of that before he went to talk to Mallinger?
“Oh no, there’s no bugs in here,” she said. “Maybe in the future, more places will have them... but at the moment, the conversations of children aren’t considered important enough to warrant the cost of listening to.”
“Well, if you’re sure. Just feel a bit paranoid now... who else knows I was there?”
“Oh, there shouldn’t be anyone. It’s just I’ve got this inside line, you could call it. But anyway, tell me all about this dude you went to visit in prison.”
Something struck him. “You didn’t call him a demon.”
She gave a short laugh. “I believe in demons like I believe I have six toes on each foot. This guy’s just as human as we are. Obviously, Dad doesn’t spell anything out, but I think the whole thing about demons is just to keep us... I don’t know, afraid? Trusting in the government to protect us? Do you think there’s places outside of Harmonia, Wellesbury?”
He blinked, and tried to contain his rising excitement at finding someone who thought the same way as him. Could he trust her? Well, she already knew where he’d been, so he didn’t have much to lose.
“Mallinger told me there are. That’s his name, by the way. And I believed him. Completely. I’ve never seen anyone look so desperate... He was thinner than anyone else I’ve seen, with these nasty things on his face. Sores, he called them.” Once more, he looked around involuntarily for any eavesdroppers. “Ezmerelda, I need to help him, and I’ve got no idea how. He’s dying, as weird as that sounds. In his... place, they can die at any age, mostly when they’re kids. Because of these things called ‘diseases’. We don’t have those here, so I don’t know how I could help him, even if I could get people to believe me. It’s just...” He stopped, and frowned, looking down at his hands. Talking about it to someone felt good in a way, but it also made it more real, and he was just as powerless as before.
“Whoa, slow down.” She sat back from the screen, folded her arms, and turned her chair towards him. “First of all, I’m so excited that you’ve met someone from somewhere else. It confirms what I’ve been thinking for a while... but I know that doesn’t help us. I think we need to find a few more things out. How did he get here, for a start?”
Wellesbury scratched his head. “Through some sort of portal in between the worlds, he said.”
“Well, don’t you think we should find it and go to his world? We might learn a lot.”
His mind boggled. Even going outside the city walls sounded like a strange experience. But Ezmerelda was sitting there calmly, waiting for an answer. “I... I’ve got no idea how I would do that. He didn’t tell me how exactly he found it himself, other than he followed the instructions of some old man. I’d need to speak to him again, and that’s not an option.”
“Hmm. I think we need to look at the bigger picture. If this place he’s from is real, with all this disease and kids dying... we need to know why the government’s basically lying to us, and telling us we’re all there is. This place is so perfect, isn’t it? Did that ever strike you as odd?”
“It definitely has.”
“We need to be looking at why. We need to ask all sorts of questions.” Ezmerelda’s large green eyes were shining, and Wellesbury found himself mesmerised. “How did this other place come about? Did the boy say what it was called?”
“Yeah... Fusterbury.”
“Fusterbury,” she repeated, rolling the syllables around. “Sounds strange.
“What was I saying before... oh, yes. We need to find out what life was like before the Reforms. That place is linked to ours in some way, it must be. The government tells us every other country on the planet disintegrated because of the terrible... pollution? Yeah, that was the word we learnt at junior school. And Whitopolis was reborn pure. Is that all true? We’ve only got their word for it.”
Wellesbury was impressed. He’d only had a vague inkling of things being out of kilter, but Ezmerelda had given the matter serious thought.
“You know, it’s such a relief to hear someone talk like this – I don’t feel like I’m mad any more!”
“How do you know I’m not?” said Ezmerelda, raising her eyebrows.
“Good point.”
“Hoi!” she said, shoving him. Wellesbury laughed.
“Anyway,” she went on, “to get to the point before we have to get back to class. This Fusterbury – is it part of a country? Do you know the name of that?”
“I think it is. Don’t know the name, though.”
“Well, this country could be right next to Harmonia! On the same planet, I mean!” She beamed, but somehow modestly, as if she was accepting an award for a scientific breakthrough but acting as though she didn’t really deserve it.
“Whoa,” said Wellesbury. “I was thinking it would be, like, another dimension. Like the Under-Region.”
“Get the Under-Region out of your mind. That’s just a fairy story.”
“Okay. Stupid me.”
Ezmerelda checked her watch. “Fifteen minutes left. So where are we? This country is, in theory, on the same planet as us. The boy-”
“Mallinger.”
“Mallinger, found a way to get to our country through a portal. That must mean there’s a psychic link between the two places, it wouldn’t be random. Somehow our history connects to theirs.”
Wellesbury drew himself up. “Right, so how are we going to help Mallinger, then?”
“That, my friend, is the million dollar question. Look, I need to go and meet my friends before class. But I’ll tell you what I can do. My dad works for the government, like I said. He’s an advisor, or an aide, or something. I’ll try to have a look through his office to see if I can find any information. It’s going to be a big risk – obviously the government buildings are hyper-secure, no even knows where they are. My dad goes to work through the secret tunnel system, and no one else even knows he works for the government. It’s a long shot, but maybe I’ll find something at home.” She started to shut down the terminal in front of her.
“I don’t want to get you into any trouble,” said Wellesbury, and felt his cheeks go red.
“Listen. Don’t be an idiot. You said your friend was dying, right?” She looked straight into his eyes, her own wide and somehow knowing.
“Well, yeah.”
“And how much time has he got left?”
“He said about twelve days, two weeks at the most.”
“Right, so me getting a bit of discipline for looking over government business is kind of the least of our worries, wouldn’t you think?”
“You don’t have to do this, you know.”
“Have you got any other ideas?” she asked brightly.
Silence.
“There you go, then. Besides, it’ll be fun. We don’t exactly get much excitement around here, do we?”
Wellesbury continued to fail to answer, and she gave him a smile that shocked him with its radiance. “Come on, cheer up. My dad’s working an evening shift tonight, I think. I’ll persuade my mum to go out to
the moviedrome or something. I’ll report back to you tomorrow if I find anything.”
Putting her hand on his shoulder, she said, “See you later, Wellesbury.” Then she was walking briskly across the library floor and into the elevator, leaving him staring after her in a daze. Then he pulled himself together and made his way back to his own class, taking the stairs, feeling a lot more hopeful than he had done before lunch.
*
Lord Hubert Histender, leader of the Reformers’ Government and Supreme Grand Ruler of the land of Harmonia, read the communication in his hand several times while his face set into a mask of contempt. He looked up at the junior aide who had delivered it.
“How did this... this urchin from that godforsaken place get here in the first place?” he demanded. The hand holding the piece of paper was shaking, the pudgy fingers seeming to threaten to crumple it into a ball.
“W-we’re not entirely sure, your Lordship. Our scientists have been consulted and the best they can come up with is that there was some kind of rip in the fabric of space-time. When reality and physics have been distorted over such a small area, they said, there are bound to be... weakenings.”
Histender shoved the paper away from him on his desk and banged a beringed hand on it. “Everything should be sealed tight! This smacks of incompetence. When was the last time any maintenance was carried out?”
“Er...” the aide massaged his wrist with the fingers of his other hand behind his back. “I think we would need to consult the history files on that one, your lordship.”
The supreme leader rested his right elbow on the desk and rubbed his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. He looked up and stared at the aide. “How could such laziness have gone unchecked? I want a detailed report from the Chief Scientist first thing in the morning explaining himself. And he’d better have a good explanation. In the meantime, we have waifs and strays from Garbageville running amok! Who knows how many more will come through? Was it an accident? Do they know about the link? So many questions unanswered. And I am a man who depends on answers.”