Swansea was changing. The Elementals were gone; the police presence was diminished; the rich started to complain more than ever and the poor remained silent. Occasionally the ground shook and everyone was reminded of the thing that had come out of the ground and was now ‘living’, supposedly, in Singleton Park. It was an uncomfortable reminder to the comfortable that things were changing, things which were beyond their capacity to stop. The authorities were in hiding. They weren’t meant to be, after all, they were and always had been The Solution.
Weeks passed by and Squeeze barely noticed. Some nights he’d come in smelling of bins, other nights he’d be covered in paint again. If he closed his eyes and pretended the last year hadn’t happened he could almost see himself as he was before. He wasn’t the same person though and that was becoming clear.
“Today,” he began, standing in front of his friends in the basement holding a piece of paper left by Gwen, “We’re going to the Sandfields.”
Without the Elementals around the public had become jumpy, so initially they’d taken advantage of the gap with a spate of good deeds up and down the city. Cleaning up had been the order of the day and this included apprehending criminals the police couldn’t catch and tidying up the city. When he’d been told that he’d be painting over his old graffiti the others had clearly expected him to lose his temper. Collectively they’d held their breath waiting for his reaction, but in truth, he felt nothing, in fact, he welcomed the opportunity to do something good for the city. It was penitence. Armed with a can of paint, a brush and a wad of flyers he’d scoured every inch of the Uplands and beyond.
It hadn’t taken long for their good work to be noticed. Their well-meaning message fell on deaf ears and each was torn down and replaced with a wanted poster. All criminals who were bagged by the ASBOs were claimed by the Police without a mention of how they’d been caught. But the people knew and somehow the word got around. It didn’t take a genius to notice that the council wasn’t painting over the walls and the Civic Repair groups were crippled by their own corruption and how on earth had the police suddenly become 250% more efficient. Word got around.
“Gwen has left us some stats,” Squeeze continued, “Since Townhill and Mayhill were demolished, over 25% of the populations were reabsorbed by the Sandfields. In the seventeen years since the Walls were built the population has more than doubled, but it goes without saying that no new houses have been built to accommodate the new people.”
Bark was nodding, “We share our house with another family.”
“Obviously, we can’t build houses, it just gives us an idea of the problem we’re up against. The Council likes to think of it as a success story. The Vetch stayed in the Sandfields after all, says they, there are still jobs, they claim. But football and a few factories aren’t really enough. Half of the streetlights don’t work, buildings are unsafe and what was once a relatively nice place to live has become a slum.
“So, we go in. Arc-Light, Bark – you two are on repairs – Telegraph poles; electric wiring, etcetera – Gwen wants them back up and running. The police presence there is non-existent so we can walk around in broad daylight in the suits, we can show our faces, so to speak. Malady – Gwen has a specific op in mind for you, but it kinda needs you to be really happy.”
Malady looked up. She hadn’t been the same since the bunker, despite the fact that her ability had gradually expanded to react to a whole new spectrum of emotions. It was the same with all of them, their powers had swollen beyond their original abilities. Bark had started planting the seeds from his back in parks and within weeks they grew to full height. Arc-Light had begun to see what she described as energy patterns; she understood how electricity worked, how it moved, how it behaved and Squeeze could now stretch his body to more than double its original length.
Malady understood. Happiness and pain were still her most potent emotions and everyone knew it. Squeeze didn’t feel comfortable with making her heal people; it felt too much like they were using her to change their image, and even though she was helping people it didn’t make him feel any better about asking her in the first place. But, if they managed to change the system then she’d be able to go back and have a normal life.
“Which is why we’ve got you this…” Squeeze handed her a wad of papers. Malady looked down the page and for a moment her expression didn’t change, then it shifted gear and the magnitude of what she’d received dawned on her fully. Laughing, crying, she skipped around the room hugging everyone before darting off upstairs, no doubt to show her parents.
The others smiled and Squeeze continued grimly, “With any luck she’ll be able to start curing people tomorrow. Everything from nits to cancer.”
“What will you be doing?” Arc-Light asked, her tone was off-hand, but the question was loaded.
“The same thing I’ve been doing for the past four weeks. Cleaning up.”
That night Squeeze lay back in bed and thought about what he was doing. Gwen had asked him how badly he wanted things to change. He’d told her that he was prepared to do anything. Was he, she asked, prepared to break the law and risk a lengthy prison sentence in order to do this? Was he prepared to, potentially, take the fall for everyone else? Was he prepared to keep this secret for the time being in order to start a revolution? He’d said yes, and with that she’d handed him a digital camera.
Possession of a camera was illegal. More punishable than drugs, arms or pornography. Beneath the pillow Squeeze held its cold, metallic surface and pondered how he was going to get the next picture.
Friday, 8 June 2007
Thursday, 7 June 2007
Scribblers
**(Ok- so I thought it would be fun to write a comic strip based on the superheroes we created for ourselves. It was a beautiful creation in expressive stickmen and wild sticking out hair that didn't really attach to the character's skull. However my scanner isn't working and I can't be bothered to fix it. So instead I just wrote up the dialogue. For the scenes which were largely just pictures of action I've tried to recapture the fast-paced gritty realism of the adventure through witty description in italicised brackets. Enjoy!)**
[Downtown warehouse: grim and simply lit by a single bulb, flickering overhead.]
The Insider:
HERE. TAKE THIS. KEEP IT SAFE AT ALL COSTS.
[a small package is handed to Shift. She uses her morphing power to absorb the parchment into her skin, to hide the information.]
Shift:
TRUST ME. I WILL DO.
[With a loud thud a door behind the two bursts open and thugs pour into the room. Shift realises they'll have to run and grabs the arm of the insider, dragging him behind as she leaps for safety.]
Shift:
COME ON! FOLLOW ME!
Thug 1:
THERE SHE IS!
Thug 2:
STOP HER!
[Pulling out a gun, one of the thugs shoots the Insider. Realising, Shift turns back, bristling in rage.]
Shift:
NO!
[Using her morphing power, Shift transforms into a leopard and pounces on the man who shot the Insider, knocking the gun from his hand. More thugs turn up, including a man who is clearly the boss.]
Mr Sintaro:
YOU'RE TOTALLY SURROUNDED. YOU MIGHT AS WELL GIVE UP NOW.
Shift:
(thought bubble) THAT'S WHERE YOU'RE WRONG MR SINTARO
[She uses her morphing power to turn into a tree, punching through the concrete floor with her roots to hold herself upright. Mr Sintaro glares at her, the thugs mark her with their weapons.]
***
[Meanwhile, in the Scribblers HQ, Finesse and Amity are sitting in the lounge.]
Amity:
SO HAS CHRONAL SAID WHERE SHIFT'S GONE?
Finesse:
NO. BUT IT'S APPARENTLY PART OF SOME BIG SECRET DEAL.
[Suddenly Amity jumps up, grabbing her head]
Amity:
IT'S SHIFT! THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG!
Finesse:
WHAT IS IT? WHAT'S HAPPENED?
Amity:
I'M NOT SURE... I FELT A SUDDEN JUMP IN EMOTION... BUT NOW SHE'S JUST GONE, TOTALLY GONE.
Finesse:
SHE'S NOT...?
Amity:
I'M NOT SURE.
[Finesse stretches out her arms and uses her catalytic ability to reinforce Amity's power.]
Finesse:
HERE- I'LL USE MY POWER TO BOOST YOURS. THAT WAY YOU MAY GET SOMETHING.
[Amity concentrates harder, screwing her hands up against her face.]
Finesse:
ANYTHING?
Amity:
YES... FAINT... BUT DEFINATELY THERE. IT'S LIKE SHE'S UNCONCIOUS OR SOMETHING.
Finesse:
WE'D BETTER TELL CHRONAL.
Amity:
YES. DO YOU KNOW WHERE HE IS?
Finesse:
OUTSIDE LAST I SAW.
[On the terrace, Chronal stands with his hands behind his back, looking out over the land in contemplation. Enter Finesse]
Finesse:
AMITY'S PICKED SOMETHING UP. SHIFT'S IN TROUBLE. SEEMS SHE'S STUCK SOMEWHERE. POSSIBLY UNCONCIOUS.
Chronal:
OK. YOU AND AMITY GET THE TRANS-JET READY. I'LL GO GET LYRIC AND WRAITH AND UPDATE THEM ON THE SITUATION.
[Lyric and Wraith are practising their powers in the Control Room when Chronal enters.]
Chronal:
YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO PUT WHAT YOU'RE DOING ON HOLD. WE HAVE A SITUATION.
[Wraith and Lyric stop what they're doing and walk over to talk to Chronal.]
Wraith:
WHAT'S UP?
Chronal:
SHIFT'S IN TROUBLE. SEEMS THE DEAL FELL THROUGH. WE'LL HAVE TO GO IN NOW.
Lyric:
WHAT'S HER STATUS?
Chronal:
CRITICAL. WE'LL HAVE TO MOVE FAST.
[Using their lovely and entirely aerodynamic and environmentally sound super-jet, the team set off for the down town warehouse. They arrive, park the jet and scope the building.]
Amity:
THIS IS THE PLACE. I'M SURE OF IT.
Chronal:
OK TEAM, HERE'S THE PLAN: AMITY, I NEED YOU TO TRACK SHIFT'S LOCATION. FINESSE, KEEP BOOSTING THE SIGNAL AND US THREE WILL KEEP ANY TROUBLE OFF YOUR BACKS.
[The Scribblers burst into the warehouse, Finesse and Amity in the centre, tracking Shift. Chronal, Wraith and Lyric on the outside ready to pick off random thugs that attack them. A handy bunch of thugs gets in the way in preparation for the gratuitous fight scene.]
Thug 3:
IT'S THE SCRIBBLERS! SOUND THE ALARM!
[Much fighting is afoot. Chronal zipping around using his power over time; Lyric throwing words at people; Wraith punching people from behind his veil of invisibility. Finesse occassionally throws out a boost to aid in the fighting- she mainly concentrates on helping Amity, who is walking through the middle, tracking Shift]
Amity:
THE VIBE IS STRONG HERE. WE MUST BE CLOSE.
[there is a door in front of them. They burst through it with no thoughts of the consequences like all good superheroes.]
Amity:
I THINK I'M GOING TO BE SICK.
[in the middle of the room, Shift's tree is still standing, but trying to get information out of her, the baddies have been torturing her quite nastily. some branches have been sawn off, some bark stripped away and she is on fire in places. Mr Sintaro is standing nearby.]
Mr Sintaro:
I WAS WONDERING WHEN YOUR SHAMBOLIC CREW WOULD MAKE AN APPEARANCE. UNFORTUNATELY FOR YOU, YOU'VE WALKED STRAIGHT INTO MY TRAP. GUARDS!
[Loads more baddies turn up with nasty looking weapons and such. Time for more gratuitous fighting- never get tired of that.]
Amity:
FINESSE CAN YOU TRANSFORM SHIFT BACK?
Finesse:
THERE'S SO LITTLE OF HER LEFT... IT MIGHT BE POSSIBLE. BUT THE SHOCK MAY KILL HER.
Amity:
WE HAVE TO GET HER OUT OF HERE THOUGH! WE CAN'T HOLD OFF THIS MANY PEOPLE FOR LONG.
Finesse:
OK, I'LL TRY. BUT YOU'LL HAVE TO HELP ME BY BALANCING HER MENTAL STATE WHILE I PHYSICALLY CHANGE HER. WE NEED TO CONTROL HER PAIN, TO STOP HER FROM GOING INTO SHOCK.
Amity:
OK. HOLD ON.
[Using a combination of their powers, the girls manage to change Shift back. It was a gruesome and graphic process- there was not enough strength in Shift to allow to repair any of the physical damage she has sustained. Thus her human form is also burnt, bleeding and missing a few fingers and such like. Finesse and Amity pick up Shift between them.]
Amity:
WE'VE GOT HER!
Chronal:
LET'S GO!
[Fighting their way out, the heroes make it back out to their jet and sail off into the sunset. Hooray!]
[Downtown warehouse: grim and simply lit by a single bulb, flickering overhead.]
The Insider:
HERE. TAKE THIS. KEEP IT SAFE AT ALL COSTS.
[a small package is handed to Shift. She uses her morphing power to absorb the parchment into her skin, to hide the information.]
Shift:
TRUST ME. I WILL DO.
[With a loud thud a door behind the two bursts open and thugs pour into the room. Shift realises they'll have to run and grabs the arm of the insider, dragging him behind as she leaps for safety.]
Shift:
COME ON! FOLLOW ME!
Thug 1:
THERE SHE IS!
Thug 2:
STOP HER!
[Pulling out a gun, one of the thugs shoots the Insider. Realising, Shift turns back, bristling in rage.]
Shift:
NO!
[Using her morphing power, Shift transforms into a leopard and pounces on the man who shot the Insider, knocking the gun from his hand. More thugs turn up, including a man who is clearly the boss.]
Mr Sintaro:
YOU'RE TOTALLY SURROUNDED. YOU MIGHT AS WELL GIVE UP NOW.
Shift:
(thought bubble) THAT'S WHERE YOU'RE WRONG MR SINTARO
[She uses her morphing power to turn into a tree, punching through the concrete floor with her roots to hold herself upright. Mr Sintaro glares at her, the thugs mark her with their weapons.]
***
[Meanwhile, in the Scribblers HQ, Finesse and Amity are sitting in the lounge.]
Amity:
SO HAS CHRONAL SAID WHERE SHIFT'S GONE?
Finesse:
NO. BUT IT'S APPARENTLY PART OF SOME BIG SECRET DEAL.
[Suddenly Amity jumps up, grabbing her head]
Amity:
IT'S SHIFT! THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG!
Finesse:
WHAT IS IT? WHAT'S HAPPENED?
Amity:
I'M NOT SURE... I FELT A SUDDEN JUMP IN EMOTION... BUT NOW SHE'S JUST GONE, TOTALLY GONE.
Finesse:
SHE'S NOT...?
Amity:
I'M NOT SURE.
[Finesse stretches out her arms and uses her catalytic ability to reinforce Amity's power.]
Finesse:
HERE- I'LL USE MY POWER TO BOOST YOURS. THAT WAY YOU MAY GET SOMETHING.
[Amity concentrates harder, screwing her hands up against her face.]
Finesse:
ANYTHING?
Amity:
YES... FAINT... BUT DEFINATELY THERE. IT'S LIKE SHE'S UNCONCIOUS OR SOMETHING.
Finesse:
WE'D BETTER TELL CHRONAL.
Amity:
YES. DO YOU KNOW WHERE HE IS?
Finesse:
OUTSIDE LAST I SAW.
[On the terrace, Chronal stands with his hands behind his back, looking out over the land in contemplation. Enter Finesse]
Finesse:
AMITY'S PICKED SOMETHING UP. SHIFT'S IN TROUBLE. SEEMS SHE'S STUCK SOMEWHERE. POSSIBLY UNCONCIOUS.
Chronal:
OK. YOU AND AMITY GET THE TRANS-JET READY. I'LL GO GET LYRIC AND WRAITH AND UPDATE THEM ON THE SITUATION.
[Lyric and Wraith are practising their powers in the Control Room when Chronal enters.]
Chronal:
YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO PUT WHAT YOU'RE DOING ON HOLD. WE HAVE A SITUATION.
[Wraith and Lyric stop what they're doing and walk over to talk to Chronal.]
Wraith:
WHAT'S UP?
Chronal:
SHIFT'S IN TROUBLE. SEEMS THE DEAL FELL THROUGH. WE'LL HAVE TO GO IN NOW.
Lyric:
WHAT'S HER STATUS?
Chronal:
CRITICAL. WE'LL HAVE TO MOVE FAST.
[Using their lovely and entirely aerodynamic and environmentally sound super-jet, the team set off for the down town warehouse. They arrive, park the jet and scope the building.]
Amity:
THIS IS THE PLACE. I'M SURE OF IT.
Chronal:
OK TEAM, HERE'S THE PLAN: AMITY, I NEED YOU TO TRACK SHIFT'S LOCATION. FINESSE, KEEP BOOSTING THE SIGNAL AND US THREE WILL KEEP ANY TROUBLE OFF YOUR BACKS.
[The Scribblers burst into the warehouse, Finesse and Amity in the centre, tracking Shift. Chronal, Wraith and Lyric on the outside ready to pick off random thugs that attack them. A handy bunch of thugs gets in the way in preparation for the gratuitous fight scene.]
Thug 3:
IT'S THE SCRIBBLERS! SOUND THE ALARM!
[Much fighting is afoot. Chronal zipping around using his power over time; Lyric throwing words at people; Wraith punching people from behind his veil of invisibility. Finesse occassionally throws out a boost to aid in the fighting- she mainly concentrates on helping Amity, who is walking through the middle, tracking Shift]
Amity:
THE VIBE IS STRONG HERE. WE MUST BE CLOSE.
[there is a door in front of them. They burst through it with no thoughts of the consequences like all good superheroes.]
Amity:
I THINK I'M GOING TO BE SICK.
[in the middle of the room, Shift's tree is still standing, but trying to get information out of her, the baddies have been torturing her quite nastily. some branches have been sawn off, some bark stripped away and she is on fire in places. Mr Sintaro is standing nearby.]
Mr Sintaro:
I WAS WONDERING WHEN YOUR SHAMBOLIC CREW WOULD MAKE AN APPEARANCE. UNFORTUNATELY FOR YOU, YOU'VE WALKED STRAIGHT INTO MY TRAP. GUARDS!
[Loads more baddies turn up with nasty looking weapons and such. Time for more gratuitous fighting- never get tired of that.]
Amity:
FINESSE CAN YOU TRANSFORM SHIFT BACK?
Finesse:
THERE'S SO LITTLE OF HER LEFT... IT MIGHT BE POSSIBLE. BUT THE SHOCK MAY KILL HER.
Amity:
WE HAVE TO GET HER OUT OF HERE THOUGH! WE CAN'T HOLD OFF THIS MANY PEOPLE FOR LONG.
Finesse:
OK, I'LL TRY. BUT YOU'LL HAVE TO HELP ME BY BALANCING HER MENTAL STATE WHILE I PHYSICALLY CHANGE HER. WE NEED TO CONTROL HER PAIN, TO STOP HER FROM GOING INTO SHOCK.
Amity:
OK. HOLD ON.
[Using a combination of their powers, the girls manage to change Shift back. It was a gruesome and graphic process- there was not enough strength in Shift to allow to repair any of the physical damage she has sustained. Thus her human form is also burnt, bleeding and missing a few fingers and such like. Finesse and Amity pick up Shift between them.]
Amity:
WE'VE GOT HER!
Chronal:
LET'S GO!
[Fighting their way out, the heroes make it back out to their jet and sail off into the sunset. Hooray!]
Shift, Chapter 5
1st Iojenry 4367
Dear Diary,
Dyl is leaving today to go and live with mum and dad in Silvetera. I wish I was going instead, its so boring here in Dirdarn. It’ll be even more boring without Dyl’s jokes, especially if they don’t let me out of this court more often.
In her last letter Flo told me that there is a circus coming to Silvetera, all the way from Maoniong! That’s the other side of the world from here. I wish I could go visit there, but Aunt Vinthia says that it’s a very long sea journey and I get sea sick. I could Shift and swim there, but I’m not very good at water Shifts. I’d probably get stuck in the middle of the ocean and drown. Perhaps I could fly. I can do a good owl shift, but I don’t think I could fly that far without a break.
I suppose I’ll just have to stay here, as usual.
Excerpts from the Diary of Princess Elile of Silvetera, Age 9.
***
“Have you heard?” Srynia eagerly asked her sister as she rushed into the stables.
“Hmm?” Riarna replied dozily from where she was carefully brushing her horse’s tail.
“Apparently there’s a circus in Silvetera and its all the way from Maoniong!”
“Really? How interesting.” Riarna replied apathetically, earning herself a disapproving huff from her sister.
“Aren’t you at all excited? This means we’re going to get to see them when we go with Dad to the Silveteran Horse Market next month!” Seeing her sister shrug indifferently, Srynia pulled a face behind her back.
“I saw that,” Riarna remarked reprovingly.
“Well, then. Stop being so boring! Come on, lets walk into town- that way we might get a chance to meet up with Mina and that lot.”
“I don’t know,” Riarna replied unenthusiastically. “Mina’s really quite annoying. She doesn’t stop talking. And its not like she ever says anything remotely interesting.” Srynia giggled and gently pushed her sister on the shoulder.
“You’re so mean sometimes. But come on, lets do something. It’s not good being stuck in this place all day.” Riarna stopped brushing her horse and turned to smile at her sister.
“You’re right. How about we go out for a ride- like we always used to when we were little? A proper adventure with a picnic and a camp fire and everything?” Srynia paused contemplatively for a moment.
“Yeah, why not? We can make a proper day of it. Mum and Dad won’t mind- they’ll probably be glad to see us out riding like we used to before…” she drifted off briefly, “well, just before in general,” she finished quickly. Noticing her sister was upset, Riarna quickly intervened.
“It’ll be great! Come on, lets go to the kitchen and see what we can pillage from the larder.”
“Sure!” Srynia replied laughing, as the two girls dashed off towards the house.
***
Wer·serk [wâir-sûrk] noun, adjective.
1. Noun, a human that loses social, moral and emotional control when assuming a Shifted form. Usually characterised by extreme rage and violence.
“The Werserk slaughtered the livestock.”
2. Adjective, used to describe a Shifted human in an uncontrollable emotional state, usually characterised by irrational rage and frenzied violence.
“The shark was werserk when he bit through the boat.”
***
“Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Srynia asked her sister, slightly alarmed by the fright in her voice.
“Howling. It’s like wolves howling. But why would they howl at this time of day?” Riarna replied nervously.
“I can’t hear it,” Srynia replied, glancing around the clearing cautiously.
“I’m going to try Shifting to see if I can hear it more clearly,” Riarna replied as she stood up and began to focus on the Shift. Stretching downwards and out, she gradually assumed the shape of a wolf. Sitting down she tilted her head and focused on the distant sound.
“What can you hear?” Srynia asked her sister, still looking nervously around herself.
Faint. Distant.
“So there is something?” Srynia added, looking directly at her sister, her voice edged with panic.
Coming Closer.
“We’d better head back. Pack up the stuff, get on the horses and go,” Srynia poured the rest of a can of water over the fire and started kicking up some loose soil to spread and stamp on the sizzling ashes.
No time. Go now.
“We can’t leave our stuff here- we’ve got to put this fire out properly.”
No time. They are coming. Go now.
“What about you? You are coming aren’t you? Quickly, you’ll have to Shift back and help me.” Riarna focused on her sister through her wolf’s eyes and tried to concentrate. Her instincts seemed to be rebelling against converting back into her defenceless human form. With a great effort of will, she gradually managed to stretch back out into her human shape.
“Come on! Let’s go!” Srynia called to her, leading the two skittish ponies into the clearing. Shaking her head to regain her focus, Riarna grabbed her reins and quickly jumped astride her jittery pony. The howling was clear enough to distinguish in her human form now and the undertones in the sound were unmistakable.
“Werserks,” Srynia stated. “Come on. We might still make it back if we hurry.”
The ponies broke into a fierce gallop without much need for encouragement and disappeared between the trees.
***
Dear Lile,
Arrived in Silvetera today. It really is as big as you told me! And so busy! I can see why you thought Dirdarn was so boring.
I got to meet my other cousins today. Flo says to send her love and to say that she’ll send you a souvenir from the Maoniong Circus. Your family is being really nice to me, but I do miss the beaches and rivers of Arrozale. There are so many people and buildings here. It feels so crowded.
Uncle Penry was very nice to me. He gave me a bow and said I could go practice on the target range whenever I liked. I’m really excited- I always wanted to learn archery but my Mum said I was too young.
I think everything is going to be fine here- although it would be better if you could come too. It’s strange being in a place where you don’t know anyone.
Write back soon and let me know how things are going. And don’t forget to try that locked passage in the back of the Armoured Gallery- I think it might be another secret way down to the cellars.
Dyl
Assorted Letters by King Dylanon of Arrozale.
***
“Alarm! Alarm! Raise the alarm! Weserks approaching from the north!” the crier ran through the town banging a drum and shouting at the top of his voice.
“Weserks?” Willan exclaimed with a groan. “That’s the last thing we need. Come on, Del, we’d better get back quick and bring in the horses.” They hurried back to their farm, accompanied by the sound of slamming doors and locking bolts. Sprinting back into the yard, Willan ran directly to the stable block and started to grab head collars. Deleha rushed into the house but stopped dead at the sight of a note pinned to the wall.
Gone picnic riding in the wood.
Back for dinner.
Love Sryn and Ri.
“Willan!” she shouted, ripping the letter down and dashing back into the yard.
“What is it?” he called in reply.
“The girls! They’re out riding in the woods! What’ll we do?” she replied in a panic, running over to her husband. Willan frowned and ran a hand through his hair.
“We’ll have to go after them,” he replied, “Never mind the horses. We’ll have to get out there and track them down.”
With that the pair both quickly Shifted into their strongest form, Deleha as a horse and Willan as a wolf. Willan quickly picked up his daughters’ trail and started loping off in that direction, Deleha trotting after him. They had just reached the border of their land when they both heard a sound that chilled them to their hearts.
Weserks. Close.
***
WESERK WOLVES ATTACK YSTIA
Weserks attacked the town of Ystia today and reawakened fears about the growing threat of Weserk Wolves in the region.
Weserk Syndrome is a relatively uncommon affliction, which seems to predominantly affect people who have a totemic predisposition. There is generally believed to be a strong link between Weserks and people who are born to parents whose Primary Shift is a strong carnivore. However, others dismiss this theory and believe the condition arises following certain virulent diseases, that may inhibit the genetic Shifting that occurs to allow the human to control the mental and emotional capacities of their body.
However, there is no answer as to why the most common Weserk Shift is the wolf, nor why the Weserk Wolves never attack each other. Weserks in other forms have never been seen to distinguish between other Weserks and unaffected humans or animals. There is some speculation that it is possible that the strong pack bond of the wolf overrides the insane rage of the Weserk, which in more antisocial species will turn against everything around it and eventually upon itself.
***
FURY. HUNGER. ITCH.
“Come on Ri, we’re nearly back now,” Srynia called over her shoulder to her sister, who was lagging behind.
“I can feel them. They’re so close now,” Riarna replied faintly, wobbling slightly on her galloping pony.
RAGE. THIRST. ITCH.
“We’re nearly there. I can see the border of our land. And look! There’s Mum and Dad! They’ll save us! Come on!” Srynia yelled in reply, digging her heels hard into her ponies side, darting forward with a sudden spurt of extra speed.
TRACK. SCENT. HUNT.
“Mum! Dad!” Srynia called out desperately, turning to see her sister lagging back even more.
Coming. Nearly there.
“Ri! Kick on! Just a little bit more!” Srynia shouted back at her sister.
COMING. NEARLY THERE.
Charging at full speed, Willan shot past his daughter’s galloping ponies and leapt straight into the path of the leading Weserk Wolf. Deleha turned and flanked her daughters, nipping their ponies to drive them on. Struggling with the Weserk, Willan was locked jaw-to-jaw, each tearing and snapping at the other. The Weserks stopped and circled around Willan, each one trying to leap in and snatch a bite. He looked desperately around himself and realised he chances of escape were now minimal unless he changed Shift. Thinking quickly he realised there was only one form that might work against them. Concentrating through the pain and blood, he Shifted and leapt onto the back of the lead Werserk, disguised in the form of a flea.
PAIN. HUNGER. ITCH.
***
5th Nuinch 4367
Dear Dyl,
Thanks for your letter. It cheered me up in a really dull day. I’m so jealous you’re learning archery! I wish I was doing something that fun. Today I learned how to add up the accounts book for a plot of entailed land. It was less than fun.
I tried the passage you suggested. It came to a dead end where the tunnel had collapsed. I think it may lead directly to outside the Castle! If I can dig my way through, we might have another secret exit for our list. Although I don’t know what use it’ll be without you. It’s not as much fun exploring on my own. I wish you had some brothers and sisters I could take with me. Or at least any other kids. Its so unbelievably dull with just grown-ups.
Keep in touch to let me know how things are going in Silvertera.
Love from,
Elile.
Letters of Princess Elile of Silvetera.
Dear Diary,
Dyl is leaving today to go and live with mum and dad in Silvetera. I wish I was going instead, its so boring here in Dirdarn. It’ll be even more boring without Dyl’s jokes, especially if they don’t let me out of this court more often.
In her last letter Flo told me that there is a circus coming to Silvetera, all the way from Maoniong! That’s the other side of the world from here. I wish I could go visit there, but Aunt Vinthia says that it’s a very long sea journey and I get sea sick. I could Shift and swim there, but I’m not very good at water Shifts. I’d probably get stuck in the middle of the ocean and drown. Perhaps I could fly. I can do a good owl shift, but I don’t think I could fly that far without a break.
I suppose I’ll just have to stay here, as usual.
Excerpts from the Diary of Princess Elile of Silvetera, Age 9.
***
“Have you heard?” Srynia eagerly asked her sister as she rushed into the stables.
“Hmm?” Riarna replied dozily from where she was carefully brushing her horse’s tail.
“Apparently there’s a circus in Silvetera and its all the way from Maoniong!”
“Really? How interesting.” Riarna replied apathetically, earning herself a disapproving huff from her sister.
“Aren’t you at all excited? This means we’re going to get to see them when we go with Dad to the Silveteran Horse Market next month!” Seeing her sister shrug indifferently, Srynia pulled a face behind her back.
“I saw that,” Riarna remarked reprovingly.
“Well, then. Stop being so boring! Come on, lets walk into town- that way we might get a chance to meet up with Mina and that lot.”
“I don’t know,” Riarna replied unenthusiastically. “Mina’s really quite annoying. She doesn’t stop talking. And its not like she ever says anything remotely interesting.” Srynia giggled and gently pushed her sister on the shoulder.
“You’re so mean sometimes. But come on, lets do something. It’s not good being stuck in this place all day.” Riarna stopped brushing her horse and turned to smile at her sister.
“You’re right. How about we go out for a ride- like we always used to when we were little? A proper adventure with a picnic and a camp fire and everything?” Srynia paused contemplatively for a moment.
“Yeah, why not? We can make a proper day of it. Mum and Dad won’t mind- they’ll probably be glad to see us out riding like we used to before…” she drifted off briefly, “well, just before in general,” she finished quickly. Noticing her sister was upset, Riarna quickly intervened.
“It’ll be great! Come on, lets go to the kitchen and see what we can pillage from the larder.”
“Sure!” Srynia replied laughing, as the two girls dashed off towards the house.
***
Wer·serk [wâir-sûrk] noun, adjective.
1. Noun, a human that loses social, moral and emotional control when assuming a Shifted form. Usually characterised by extreme rage and violence.
“The Werserk slaughtered the livestock.”
2. Adjective, used to describe a Shifted human in an uncontrollable emotional state, usually characterised by irrational rage and frenzied violence.
“The shark was werserk when he bit through the boat.”
***
“Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Srynia asked her sister, slightly alarmed by the fright in her voice.
“Howling. It’s like wolves howling. But why would they howl at this time of day?” Riarna replied nervously.
“I can’t hear it,” Srynia replied, glancing around the clearing cautiously.
“I’m going to try Shifting to see if I can hear it more clearly,” Riarna replied as she stood up and began to focus on the Shift. Stretching downwards and out, she gradually assumed the shape of a wolf. Sitting down she tilted her head and focused on the distant sound.
“What can you hear?” Srynia asked her sister, still looking nervously around herself.
Faint. Distant.
“So there is something?” Srynia added, looking directly at her sister, her voice edged with panic.
Coming Closer.
“We’d better head back. Pack up the stuff, get on the horses and go,” Srynia poured the rest of a can of water over the fire and started kicking up some loose soil to spread and stamp on the sizzling ashes.
No time. Go now.
“We can’t leave our stuff here- we’ve got to put this fire out properly.”
No time. They are coming. Go now.
“What about you? You are coming aren’t you? Quickly, you’ll have to Shift back and help me.” Riarna focused on her sister through her wolf’s eyes and tried to concentrate. Her instincts seemed to be rebelling against converting back into her defenceless human form. With a great effort of will, she gradually managed to stretch back out into her human shape.
“Come on! Let’s go!” Srynia called to her, leading the two skittish ponies into the clearing. Shaking her head to regain her focus, Riarna grabbed her reins and quickly jumped astride her jittery pony. The howling was clear enough to distinguish in her human form now and the undertones in the sound were unmistakable.
“Werserks,” Srynia stated. “Come on. We might still make it back if we hurry.”
The ponies broke into a fierce gallop without much need for encouragement and disappeared between the trees.
***
Dear Lile,
Arrived in Silvetera today. It really is as big as you told me! And so busy! I can see why you thought Dirdarn was so boring.
I got to meet my other cousins today. Flo says to send her love and to say that she’ll send you a souvenir from the Maoniong Circus. Your family is being really nice to me, but I do miss the beaches and rivers of Arrozale. There are so many people and buildings here. It feels so crowded.
Uncle Penry was very nice to me. He gave me a bow and said I could go practice on the target range whenever I liked. I’m really excited- I always wanted to learn archery but my Mum said I was too young.
I think everything is going to be fine here- although it would be better if you could come too. It’s strange being in a place where you don’t know anyone.
Write back soon and let me know how things are going. And don’t forget to try that locked passage in the back of the Armoured Gallery- I think it might be another secret way down to the cellars.
Dyl
Assorted Letters by King Dylanon of Arrozale.
***
“Alarm! Alarm! Raise the alarm! Weserks approaching from the north!” the crier ran through the town banging a drum and shouting at the top of his voice.
“Weserks?” Willan exclaimed with a groan. “That’s the last thing we need. Come on, Del, we’d better get back quick and bring in the horses.” They hurried back to their farm, accompanied by the sound of slamming doors and locking bolts. Sprinting back into the yard, Willan ran directly to the stable block and started to grab head collars. Deleha rushed into the house but stopped dead at the sight of a note pinned to the wall.
Gone picnic riding in the wood.
Back for dinner.
Love Sryn and Ri.
“Willan!” she shouted, ripping the letter down and dashing back into the yard.
“What is it?” he called in reply.
“The girls! They’re out riding in the woods! What’ll we do?” she replied in a panic, running over to her husband. Willan frowned and ran a hand through his hair.
“We’ll have to go after them,” he replied, “Never mind the horses. We’ll have to get out there and track them down.”
With that the pair both quickly Shifted into their strongest form, Deleha as a horse and Willan as a wolf. Willan quickly picked up his daughters’ trail and started loping off in that direction, Deleha trotting after him. They had just reached the border of their land when they both heard a sound that chilled them to their hearts.
Weserks. Close.
***
WESERK WOLVES ATTACK YSTIA
Weserks attacked the town of Ystia today and reawakened fears about the growing threat of Weserk Wolves in the region.
Weserk Syndrome is a relatively uncommon affliction, which seems to predominantly affect people who have a totemic predisposition. There is generally believed to be a strong link between Weserks and people who are born to parents whose Primary Shift is a strong carnivore. However, others dismiss this theory and believe the condition arises following certain virulent diseases, that may inhibit the genetic Shifting that occurs to allow the human to control the mental and emotional capacities of their body.
However, there is no answer as to why the most common Weserk Shift is the wolf, nor why the Weserk Wolves never attack each other. Weserks in other forms have never been seen to distinguish between other Weserks and unaffected humans or animals. There is some speculation that it is possible that the strong pack bond of the wolf overrides the insane rage of the Weserk, which in more antisocial species will turn against everything around it and eventually upon itself.
***
FURY. HUNGER. ITCH.
“Come on Ri, we’re nearly back now,” Srynia called over her shoulder to her sister, who was lagging behind.
“I can feel them. They’re so close now,” Riarna replied faintly, wobbling slightly on her galloping pony.
RAGE. THIRST. ITCH.
“We’re nearly there. I can see the border of our land. And look! There’s Mum and Dad! They’ll save us! Come on!” Srynia yelled in reply, digging her heels hard into her ponies side, darting forward with a sudden spurt of extra speed.
TRACK. SCENT. HUNT.
“Mum! Dad!” Srynia called out desperately, turning to see her sister lagging back even more.
Coming. Nearly there.
“Ri! Kick on! Just a little bit more!” Srynia shouted back at her sister.
COMING. NEARLY THERE.
Charging at full speed, Willan shot past his daughter’s galloping ponies and leapt straight into the path of the leading Weserk Wolf. Deleha turned and flanked her daughters, nipping their ponies to drive them on. Struggling with the Weserk, Willan was locked jaw-to-jaw, each tearing and snapping at the other. The Weserks stopped and circled around Willan, each one trying to leap in and snatch a bite. He looked desperately around himself and realised he chances of escape were now minimal unless he changed Shift. Thinking quickly he realised there was only one form that might work against them. Concentrating through the pain and blood, he Shifted and leapt onto the back of the lead Werserk, disguised in the form of a flea.
PAIN. HUNGER. ITCH.
***
5th Nuinch 4367
Dear Dyl,
Thanks for your letter. It cheered me up in a really dull day. I’m so jealous you’re learning archery! I wish I was doing something that fun. Today I learned how to add up the accounts book for a plot of entailed land. It was less than fun.
I tried the passage you suggested. It came to a dead end where the tunnel had collapsed. I think it may lead directly to outside the Castle! If I can dig my way through, we might have another secret exit for our list. Although I don’t know what use it’ll be without you. It’s not as much fun exploring on my own. I wish you had some brothers and sisters I could take with me. Or at least any other kids. Its so unbelievably dull with just grown-ups.
Keep in touch to let me know how things are going in Silvertera.
Love from,
Elile.
Letters of Princess Elile of Silvetera.
Wednesday, 6 June 2007
Shift, Chapter 4
1-4-4365
Case no. 1302.
In my initial assessment of the patient I determined her case to be one of critical urgency. Her lower torso and legs were trapped beneath the body of the horse, which was euthanized on scene after it became apparent that there was a negligible chance of recovery. Fortunately, the horse had not struggled on the ground, possibly due to spinal paralysis, so the girl’s injuries seemed largely confined to the initial impact.
Having supervised the safe removal of the animal, I was able to more fully examine the patient. She seemed to be in a state of delirium or semi-consciousness, yet there was no external sign of damage to the cranium. The abdomen was swollen and distended and my first suspicion was the rupturing of an organ in the region. The pelvis seemed also to be displaced, possibly extending back as far as the vertebrae. There was a protrusion from her left thigh, which I suspected to be a fractured femur.
At this point I sent for Dr Kar, whose expertise in repairing internal organ failure would aid in the treatment of the potential rupture. I then administered a dose of Endormedol to aid in the release of her Shifting capability, before beginning the process of setting the bones. The girl had an unusually diverse Shifting mechanism, which made the process of unlocking and healing the bones unusually fast and accurate. I remarked on this unusual gift to the patient’s father, who informed me she had always been a quick and proficient child.
I encountered a difficulty in the healing of her bones at about the same time that Dr Kar arrived. At this point my priority was to assist Dr Kar by stemming the internal blood flow, while he worked on repairing the spleen. With two Medics on hand the process worked particularly quickly until Dr Kar pronounced he was happy with the level of internal health that the girl had acquired.
He offered to help with the setting of the bones and the clearing of the inflammation from the site of impact. I asked for his particular assistance with the femur bone, which was causing an unusual level of concern. There seemed to be something inorganic wedged into the bones that was hindering the ability to Shift the bones back together. I could see no external signs of an entrance wound for a foreign object. Cutting away the trouser leg over the site revealed faint traces of an old scar wound, which lead me to suspect that she had suffered an injury in the past, which had not been treated by a Medic. The only option was to reopen the leg and perform investigative surgery.
I administered a dose of Lepodon to the patient to keep her calm and still, before proceeding with the operation. The surgery revealed an unusual foreign object twisted around the bones of the femur. It was a gold chain, partly fused into the exterior of the bone, with some ossification occurring around the links. Attached to the chain was a narrow pendant of some kind, but calcification had largely obscured the design. When I asked her parents if they knew how this object had got there, both seemed unusually shocked and upset. I do not think they could have known about it, but it seems likely that this could only have been placed there by deliberate design.
The Medical Journal of Dr Rosse Murnagh, Volume VI, Chapter XXI.
***
“Lile? Hey Lile! Are you up yet?” a voice whispered urgently between the crack in the doorway. The girl sat bolt upright, casting bleary glances around the room.
“Who? What?” she muttered, rubbing her hands over her face, trying to concentrate.
“Its me- Dyl- by the door,” the voice whispered back.
“Dyl? Do you know how early it is? It’s not even light yet.” Elile grumbled back and started to curl back up into her bed clothes. The door flew open and a young boy entered and marched up to the side of her bed, puffing himself up into his full and diminutive height.
“Don’t be so boring. Come on, before the grown-ups wake up and stop us going.” Elile rolled over and looked at her cousin curiously.
“Go where exactly?”
“Down to the lake. I’ve got a boat. But we’ve got to go before the grown-ups wake up because they’ll make the Minder go with us. The Minder is so boring. He doesn’t let us do anything.”
Elile was intrigued. She’d been in Dirdarn for nearly a month and was increasingly bored and homesick. Plus, Dyl was right, the Minder never did let them do anything.
“Ok. I’m coming,” she replied, scrambling out of bed and grabbing some clothes out of the wardrobe. “But you’ll have to wait outside while I get changed,” she added, gesturing him out of the room.
“Great!” Dyl replied enthusiastically and dashed out to wait in the corridor. Changing quickly, Elile joined her cousin in the hall and the pair padded quietly down the stairs and out of one of the side entrances to the Castle.
“We made it!” Elile whispered excitedly to Dyl before the pair disappeared through the long grass and into the wood beyond.
***
Sil·vet·era [sil'vět'ěr'ər] noun.
1. City of, the capital of the Kingdom of Silvetera and one of the oldest and richest cities in the world. Founded under the control of the Kingdom of Arrozale, the city passed into independent self rule during the Merchant Rebellion of 4245. The city is generally understood to be the International Trading Capital of the World.
2. Kingdom of, founded during the Merchant Rebellion of 4245 and named after its most prominent city…
***
“What do you mean, ‘missing’?” the Queen demanded angrily of the Minder.
“Just that M’m,” the shivering man replied, twisting his hands together nervously in front of him. “I went in to check on the Prince this morning and I found his room empty. I then went to check if he had gone to see the Princess, but she wasn’t there either.” Queen Vinthia narrowed her eyes, clenching and unclenching her fists.
“So what have you done to try and find them?” she asked acidly; the Minder flinching at every word.
“I came to tell you directly I noticed, M’m,” he paused nervously, noticing the Queen’s increasingly tight expression. “I don’t think they can be in the Castle or one of the staff would have reported it to me.”
“Do you have any conception of the potential consequences of your incompetence?” she snapped furiously at the man.
“I, uh,” the man began to stammer in reply, before the Queen cut him off with a curt gesture.
“Enough! Just find them,” she replied caustically. The man hesitated, casting a furtive look at his Queen.
“Now!” she shouted violently, causing the man to scuttle hurriedly from her presence.
***
Arr·o·zale [ār'ō'zāl] noun.
1. Kingdom of, founded 1366, the Peninsula State of the West. Capitol city: Dirdarn.
...
***
“I have found them Your Highness,” the Minder gasped as he rushed into the Court. Noticing the King was sitting by his wife, he paused and bowing murmured, “Your Majesty.”
“Found who?” King Falos asked the flustered man, frowning in curiosity.
“The young Prince and Princess, Your Majesty,” the Minder replied quietly.
“What?” the King shouted suddenly, leaping to his feet. “Where have they been?” The Queen shifted uneasily in her seat, but managed to maintain an air of apparent calm.
“I found them down by the lake, playing with the Prince’s boat, Majesty.” The man was visibly shaking now.
“That boy!” the King exclaimed angrily and began to pace the room. “Why must he always cause so much trouble?” he turned to ask his wife, who met his troubled gaze with a soothing steadiness.
“He does have a streak of mischief in him,” she replied pensively, “But I am more concerned about young Elile. We must be very careful of her while she is in our care. My brother is not likely to forgive any mistake on our part that we make which affects his child.” Falos sat back down, furrowing his brows and rubbing his chin broodingly.
“Send the children in,” he said to the Minder, who had calmed down once the focus was directed away from him. The man hurried out of the room and returned quickly, leading one child by each hand.
“Well, what do you have to say for yourself, boy?” the King asked his son sternly.
“We were only playing,” the boy replied sullenly.
“You know you’re not supposed to leave the Castle on your own- let alone to go all the way down to the lake. Do you have any idea how dangerous that could be?” the King stood back up and began to pace again. The boy stared at the floor defiantly, clenching his one free fist.
“And dragging your cousin along as well,” the Queen chipped in, “Did you think about how much trouble you were getting her in?” The boy shifted slightly uncomfortably before resuming his stubborn stare.
“I think you need a lesson in respecting the privileged life you live,” the King added, sitting back down again. “If you can‘t use a boat responsibly, then it can be sent back to the Shipyard.” The boy snatched his hand away from the Minder and stamped his foot.
“I hate you!” he shouted before turning and dashing out of the room. A sad expression flickered briefly over the King’s face and he sighed and rubbed his face with both hands.
“I never seem to get it right with him,” he said mournfully to his wife, who also looked slightly anxious. “I did do the right thing, didn’t I? I wasn’t too harsh?” The Queen looked thoughtful again, drawing a deep sigh.
“We have to be tough. How else will he ever learn?” she replied after a pause. “He reminds me of your brother. He was always very wilful and daring. I can’t help but worry that our son will come to a similar end.” The King put his hand on his wife’s soothingly, looking straight into her face.
“What happened to my brother was a tragic fluke of nature, even though my parents would never accept it.” He paused as a deeper look of grief drifted over his features. “It was a terrible end for such a magnificent man, but it was just one of those freak accidents.”
“I know you’re right. It’s just hard not to be protective over our only child. I sometimes worry how he’ll cope away from us in Silvetera.” She paused, noticing that Elile was giving her a thoughtful stare. Raising her voice, she turned to give a command to the Minder, “Escort Princess Elile to her morning tutor and then find our son and bring him back here.”
“Yes, M’m” the man replied, bowing out of the room and pulling the girl along behind him. Just as she passed through the doorway, Elile cast a long look behind her, her eyes fixing briefly with the Queen’s , before she passed out of sight into the shadows.
ASBO-Boy - 715
INTERVIEW NO: = = 774526100 = = = MONDAY MAY 2ND 2016 = =
SUBJECT: Nia Jones, Positive Other, PROBO Awarded.
GWEN: Are you comfortable? Do you want a drink?
NIA: I’m fine, thanks.
GWEN: In that case, we’ll crack on. I’ll just ask a series of introductory questions first. Can you tell me a little about your family?
NIA: Umm, well, we live in the Uplands. I think my Father came from Llanelli before the Walls went up and my Mother came from Crofty. They both work in Singleton Hospital as Managers.
GWEN: Excellent. As you know, potential candidates for the Elementals are screened from a young age. Your academic profile and your civic reputation are spotless. I would, however, like to know more about your powers…
“Is this who you are?”
Nia blinked in the light. She felt dizzy and disoriented. There was no way of telling whether she was standing up or sitting down.
“Is this who you are?”
Nia felt her body flooded with energy. Her power was working overdrive and it ebbed from her skin in euphoric waves, as it did she felt the presence in her mind become stronger. The disembodied voice gasped with delight and suddenly –
“Have you ever thought about leaving Swansea?”
Nia blinked again and looked around. She was in Brynmill Park sitting underneath The Tree. Lying next to her in the grass, on top of that tartan picnic blanket, was Mike. He’d asked her this question before.
“Nia? Are you alright?” He sat up, concerned. She shook her head and grabbed a cucumber sandwich. It was bland and nothingy, but then again all cucumber sandwiches tasted like that. She smiled. This is a memory.
“Mike?” She asked, “You’re an idiot, you know that right?”
Mike shrugged, “Yeah. You keep telling me.” His body weight shifted slightly and she felt one of his broody moments coming on. The gesture was so intuitive that it brought back a flood of warm nostalgia. She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards her. She couldn’t remember ever being this forceful, but sometimes you have to get your kicks where you can. Without a drop of her original fear, she leaned in to kiss him –
“Wow.”
She was back in the white space again. Suspended in nothing. The disembodied voice was floating there beyond the light. There was something familiar about it that she couldn’t put her finger on –
“Show me what you saw. In the Forbidden Place.”
Something exploded nearby. Falling rock landed all around them and Nia flinched. They emerged in a room with recognisable walls and a large steel door. Mike was ahead – weren’t they just…? – he was carrying somebody, the forms seemed to blend together.
Around them were cans; vast containers filled with god-knows-what –
“No.”
The room was empty. At their feet was a run-off for a drainage system, in the distance she could hear water –
“No.”
The floor was smooth stone. The only sounds came from the falling rock behind them. Mike was urging them onwards now, he turned to look at her and she saw the figure in his arms. She was an ASBO, small, mousy; Nia recognised this girl, it was as if she’d met her in a dream –
She was back in the white space. This time it was different.
All around her, she could hear crying. It was a sorrow so pure that it made her feel cold and small.
“They lied.” The phantom voice whispered, each syllable laced with grief and anger. The words echoed in her head like thunder.
“When the Walls fall you will remember.” The voice ground into her mind with a violent, white pain; Nia felt her sanity starting to tear. “You will remember by the word Pantheon. You will remember me and all that you have seen. Truth will be my gift to you. I will break them, I will grind this world into dust.”
NIA: I want to help people. My power lets me do that. It feels liberating watching people grow stronger.
GWEN: And you want to use it to help people?
NIA: Yes. I’ve always wanted to stop crime. It’s irrational. With a system that provides for everybody, why do people need to break the law?
GWEN: So, you believe the system works?
NIA: Yes, more than anything. The fact that we’re having this conversation – the fact that I’m going to be able to help people, thanks in part to you guys. It’s all proof.
SUBJECT: Nia Jones, Positive Other, PROBO Awarded.
GWEN: Are you comfortable? Do you want a drink?
NIA: I’m fine, thanks.
GWEN: In that case, we’ll crack on. I’ll just ask a series of introductory questions first. Can you tell me a little about your family?
NIA: Umm, well, we live in the Uplands. I think my Father came from Llanelli before the Walls went up and my Mother came from Crofty. They both work in Singleton Hospital as Managers.
GWEN: Excellent. As you know, potential candidates for the Elementals are screened from a young age. Your academic profile and your civic reputation are spotless. I would, however, like to know more about your powers…
“Is this who you are?”
Nia blinked in the light. She felt dizzy and disoriented. There was no way of telling whether she was standing up or sitting down.
“Is this who you are?”
Nia felt her body flooded with energy. Her power was working overdrive and it ebbed from her skin in euphoric waves, as it did she felt the presence in her mind become stronger. The disembodied voice gasped with delight and suddenly –
“Have you ever thought about leaving Swansea?”
Nia blinked again and looked around. She was in Brynmill Park sitting underneath The Tree. Lying next to her in the grass, on top of that tartan picnic blanket, was Mike. He’d asked her this question before.
“Nia? Are you alright?” He sat up, concerned. She shook her head and grabbed a cucumber sandwich. It was bland and nothingy, but then again all cucumber sandwiches tasted like that. She smiled. This is a memory.
“Mike?” She asked, “You’re an idiot, you know that right?”
Mike shrugged, “Yeah. You keep telling me.” His body weight shifted slightly and she felt one of his broody moments coming on. The gesture was so intuitive that it brought back a flood of warm nostalgia. She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards her. She couldn’t remember ever being this forceful, but sometimes you have to get your kicks where you can. Without a drop of her original fear, she leaned in to kiss him –
“Wow.”
She was back in the white space again. Suspended in nothing. The disembodied voice was floating there beyond the light. There was something familiar about it that she couldn’t put her finger on –
“Show me what you saw. In the Forbidden Place.”
Something exploded nearby. Falling rock landed all around them and Nia flinched. They emerged in a room with recognisable walls and a large steel door. Mike was ahead – weren’t they just…? – he was carrying somebody, the forms seemed to blend together.
Around them were cans; vast containers filled with god-knows-what –
“No.”
The room was empty. At their feet was a run-off for a drainage system, in the distance she could hear water –
“No.”
The floor was smooth stone. The only sounds came from the falling rock behind them. Mike was urging them onwards now, he turned to look at her and she saw the figure in his arms. She was an ASBO, small, mousy; Nia recognised this girl, it was as if she’d met her in a dream –
She was back in the white space. This time it was different.
All around her, she could hear crying. It was a sorrow so pure that it made her feel cold and small.
“They lied.” The phantom voice whispered, each syllable laced with grief and anger. The words echoed in her head like thunder.
“When the Walls fall you will remember.” The voice ground into her mind with a violent, white pain; Nia felt her sanity starting to tear. “You will remember by the word Pantheon. You will remember me and all that you have seen. Truth will be my gift to you. I will break them, I will grind this world into dust.”
NIA: I want to help people. My power lets me do that. It feels liberating watching people grow stronger.
GWEN: And you want to use it to help people?
NIA: Yes. I’ve always wanted to stop crime. It’s irrational. With a system that provides for everybody, why do people need to break the law?
GWEN: So, you believe the system works?
NIA: Yes, more than anything. The fact that we’re having this conversation – the fact that I’m going to be able to help people, thanks in part to you guys. It’s all proof.
Monday, 4 June 2007
Shift Chapter 3
The 1st of Iojenry in the year of 4365
Dear Diary,
Today it is New Years Day and I am going to live with my Aunty Vinthia. I am sad to be leaving my mum and dad and my brothers and sisters but I am excited about seeing my cousin Dyl. He is younger than me and a boy but I think we will be friends. I will miss my friends here but dad says that I will make more friends in Arrozale. I like Silvetera. I wish I didn’t have to leave.
Excerpts from the diary of Princess Elile of Silvetera, Age 7.
***
“Srynia?” Deleha called up the stairs, “Are you ready yet?”
“Coming!” the girl called in reply, whilst rapidly grabbing her things together. Deleha sighed and turned to speak to her other daughter.
“Riarna, will you go out and help your father, while I wait here for your sister?”
“Yep, sure,” the girl replied, dashing out of the house, her brown hair whipping behind her.
The yard was bustling with activity, dozens of people were rushing around and several people were leading gleaming horses from the stables across the yard. Above her, a big banner read, “CALLANIAN NATIONAL HORSE TRIALS.” Amongst the chaos she spotted a face she recognised and ducking and dodging past the crowds, she dashed over.
“Kale!” she called waving her arms to get his attention. The man turned from where he was giving instructions to a small group of people and smiled at the girl rushing towards him.
“Whoah! Slow down there, what’s the rush?” he called back gently, his kind eyes twinkling in amusement. The girl continued to pummel straight up to him, then skidded to a halt, raising a cloud of dust and disapproving looks from nearby spectators.
“Have you seen my dad anywhere?” she asked, her breath catching slightly from the run.
“He was over by your family stables last I saw. I would get myself over there if I was you. He didn’t seem too happy to be getting you and your sister’s ponies ready on top of organising his own team.”
“Ok, thanks Kale!” Riarna shouted over her shoulder as she sprinted off across the yard. Kale shook his head and chuckled.
The girl slowed down as she emerged from the bustle of the main courtyard and turned down the well-worn path to her family’s own stables. She had been looking forward to this day all through the long winter and praying for success every night since her New Years Eve Wish three months ago. It was always risky to use the wish granted to mortals by Yili on New Years for anything this important. His power of luck was just as likely to go good as it was to go bad, but when you did strike lucky, you struck very lucky. She turned down another track to encounter a further scene of bustle and activity. Her father was standing in their midst, directing various people around him to different tasks.
“Ria! At last! Where’s Sryn and your mum?” her father strode over to her, running his hands through his hair, leaving tufts sticking up in every direction.
“They’re on their way. I was ready so mum sent me over to help you first.”
“I think I have everything covered at my end. You just need to start getting yourself ready. Your first class is in an hour’s time, which gives you a bit of time to make sure you’re tacked up and warmed in ready.”
“Ok. Thanks dad,” she said and began to walk off.
“And don’t be late!” he called after her as she disappeared through the stable door.
***
TRAGEDY AT CALLONIAN NATIONAL HORSE TRIALS
Today a tragedy marred the events at the highly popular Callonian National Horse Trials. A young girl was seriously injured after her pony tripped on the 6th fence and suffered a rotational fall. This was the first year that Junior riders had been allowed to compete within their own category, an idea pioneered by event organiser Willan Ruanthi. The pony in question, Quila Delaruse, belonged to Mr Ruanthi himself and was being ridden by his own daughter. The extent of the girls injuries are not yet certain and Mr Ruanthi did not have a comment to make.
***
“Quila?”
--- broken. We’ll have to ---
Pain. Pain. PAIN.
--- any chance?--- unlucky ---
“Where are you?”
--- how--- move him?---
Here. PAIN
--- Do you have--- the bow--- arrow---
“What’s happening?”
--- I’ll do it---
PAIN
--- shwpunc ---
“Quila?”
--- you take--- I’ll get ---
“Quila?!”
Dear Diary,
Today it is New Years Day and I am going to live with my Aunty Vinthia. I am sad to be leaving my mum and dad and my brothers and sisters but I am excited about seeing my cousin Dyl. He is younger than me and a boy but I think we will be friends. I will miss my friends here but dad says that I will make more friends in Arrozale. I like Silvetera. I wish I didn’t have to leave.
Excerpts from the diary of Princess Elile of Silvetera, Age 7.
***
“Srynia?” Deleha called up the stairs, “Are you ready yet?”
“Coming!” the girl called in reply, whilst rapidly grabbing her things together. Deleha sighed and turned to speak to her other daughter.
“Riarna, will you go out and help your father, while I wait here for your sister?”
“Yep, sure,” the girl replied, dashing out of the house, her brown hair whipping behind her.
The yard was bustling with activity, dozens of people were rushing around and several people were leading gleaming horses from the stables across the yard. Above her, a big banner read, “CALLANIAN NATIONAL HORSE TRIALS.” Amongst the chaos she spotted a face she recognised and ducking and dodging past the crowds, she dashed over.
“Kale!” she called waving her arms to get his attention. The man turned from where he was giving instructions to a small group of people and smiled at the girl rushing towards him.
“Whoah! Slow down there, what’s the rush?” he called back gently, his kind eyes twinkling in amusement. The girl continued to pummel straight up to him, then skidded to a halt, raising a cloud of dust and disapproving looks from nearby spectators.
“Have you seen my dad anywhere?” she asked, her breath catching slightly from the run.
“He was over by your family stables last I saw. I would get myself over there if I was you. He didn’t seem too happy to be getting you and your sister’s ponies ready on top of organising his own team.”
“Ok, thanks Kale!” Riarna shouted over her shoulder as she sprinted off across the yard. Kale shook his head and chuckled.
The girl slowed down as she emerged from the bustle of the main courtyard and turned down the well-worn path to her family’s own stables. She had been looking forward to this day all through the long winter and praying for success every night since her New Years Eve Wish three months ago. It was always risky to use the wish granted to mortals by Yili on New Years for anything this important. His power of luck was just as likely to go good as it was to go bad, but when you did strike lucky, you struck very lucky. She turned down another track to encounter a further scene of bustle and activity. Her father was standing in their midst, directing various people around him to different tasks.
“Ria! At last! Where’s Sryn and your mum?” her father strode over to her, running his hands through his hair, leaving tufts sticking up in every direction.
“They’re on their way. I was ready so mum sent me over to help you first.”
“I think I have everything covered at my end. You just need to start getting yourself ready. Your first class is in an hour’s time, which gives you a bit of time to make sure you’re tacked up and warmed in ready.”
“Ok. Thanks dad,” she said and began to walk off.
“And don’t be late!” he called after her as she disappeared through the stable door.
***
TRAGEDY AT CALLONIAN NATIONAL HORSE TRIALS
Today a tragedy marred the events at the highly popular Callonian National Horse Trials. A young girl was seriously injured after her pony tripped on the 6th fence and suffered a rotational fall. This was the first year that Junior riders had been allowed to compete within their own category, an idea pioneered by event organiser Willan Ruanthi. The pony in question, Quila Delaruse, belonged to Mr Ruanthi himself and was being ridden by his own daughter. The extent of the girls injuries are not yet certain and Mr Ruanthi did not have a comment to make.
***
“Quila?”
--- broken. We’ll have to ---
Pain. Pain. PAIN.
--- any chance?--- unlucky ---
“Where are you?”
--- how--- move him?---
Here. PAIN
--- Do you have--- the bow--- arrow---
“What’s happening?”
--- I’ll do it---
PAIN
--- shwpunc ---
“Quila?”
--- you take--- I’ll get ---
“Quila?!”
Ambition: File #162,299
"My, we've been busy!" said Sophia, checking her computer.
"It's quite fun when you get used to it," said Arthur. "You just have to look for unusual ambitions to fulfil. Things that most people would ignore."
"We've certainly got plenty of work to keep everyone going," Sophia said. "Anyway, you've got ... ten thousand and thirteen points. Which, by a narrow margin, earns you access to the Ambition Lounge."
She retrieved a violet plastic card from her drawer, and placed it into a slot on the computer. She typed something in, and pulled out the card.
"Use this to get into the lift to the left," she told Arthur, handing him the card. "It'll take you directly to the Lounge."
"Right," said Arthur. "Thanks." He paused a moment. "So, erm ... what is this Lounge exactly?"
"Mostly for relaxation," said Sophia. "A gathering place, exclusive to members who earn over ten thousand points. It also has unrestricted access to the Ambition database, which should enable you to help more people more efficiently." She smiled. "Makes sense to make work easier for those who've helped the most, doesn't it?"
Arthur smiled, and thanked her, before heading for the lift.
-10001-
"... and then, on Saturday night, I was having dinner with Dennis Freeman, and ..."
"Don't do that."
"What?"
"Name-dropping. It gets right on my nerves."
"What do you mean, 'name-dropping'?"
"Well, if he was really such a good friend, you'd call him 'Dennis', wouldn't you? But no, you have to use his full name."
"Why would I just call him Dennis? You know who he is, so it'd be a bit stupid to pretend he was just some guy."
"It sounds like he's just a name to you!"
"He's my friend. I just know him, that's all."
Arthur watched the argument from the lift. There was around a dozen people sitting on the long, pastel-coloured sofa, but only two were talking – a man and a woman. The whole company looked much younger than he'd expected; mostly in their mid-twenties to early-thirties. He stepped forwards cautiously.
The group turned and saw him, they all bounced to their feet and dashed over.
"Hia, how are you?"
"New, aren't you?"
"What was your ambition?"
"What's your name?"
"Who do you know here?"
"Hi, I'm Alexander Exton."
Arthur blustered his answers, and after a time, most of them lost interest, and started talking among themselves again. One girl, however – a rotund twenty-something who'd kept mostly quiet thus far – stayed behind.
"It was Arthur Pritchard, wasn't it?" she said.
"Call me Arthur," he said, his head still spinning.
"Then you can call me Rachel." She grabbed his hand. "Come on – let's check out the computers."
And she bounded away, around the corner, away from the sofas, past a self-serving bar, through a set of double-doors, and into a more subdued room, with blue lights built into the walls. The room contained five or six large computer consoles, reminding Arthur of the touchscreen ones in Job Centres.
She released his hand, and sat on a stool by the nearest consoles. Arthur took the stool next to her.
"So, how do these computers work?" he asked.
"Oh, that doesn't matter," said Rachel. "We need to talk about the Lounge. I'm file one-six-double-two-double-nine."
Arthur's eyebrows shot up. "Am I expected to know my file number by heart?"
"In the Lounge? Certainly," replied Rachel. "But it might not be your scene. See, It's full of zed-list members, hoping to be the next Dennis Freeman or Jemima Cross."
"Who?"
"Good lord, you'll need to take a look at the in-house magazine. You won't survive a second in here if you don't know your high-profilers." She pressed something on the screen. "Look, checking the profile rankings is a good way to find out who they are, but for more details, you'll need to read interviews and things."
Arthur checked the monitor.
"This one doesn't have a name," he said, indicating the top of the list.
"He's a bit of a mystery," said Rachel. "He chose to hide his identity, in the days before details were mandatory, and was allowed to continue operating in secret."
"But we know he's a 'he'?"
"Ah, well, no," said Rachel, blushing. "I think everyone's got an image of what he's like, though, and mine's male." She shuffled on her stool. "Anyway, I think most people like to imagine that THEY'RE the number one member, so they come to the Lounge and do their best to appear important, hoping that naïve members will think 'oh, wow, I wonder if it's them'."
"You don't much get on with these people, then?" asked Arthur.
"They're alright," said Rachel, shrugging. "They're self-obsessed, but sometimes that's a good thing. If you've earned your entry to the Lounge, you're okay by them. Never mind what you're like or ... what you look like ..."
She trailed away, and Arthur looked at her sadly. Surely she didn't spend time with these awful people out of loneliness?
"So, what was your ambition?" he asked gently.
"Doesn't matter," she mumbled. She was busying herself with the monitor, checking the details of high-profilers.
Arthur swallowed.
"Rachel," he said. He smiled softly. "I don't know your surname."
"Parsons," she murmurmed.
"I don't think I like this place," said Arthur. "I think I'm going to go elsewhere."
"Okay."
"I'm going to go to dinner." He licked his lips, and straightened on the stool. "Would you like to accompany me?"
She turned to look at him.
"You don't need to do that," she said gently.
"Right, no, of course," blustered Arthur. "Sorry." He paused. "I got the impression you didn't like it here, and ... Umm, I'm awfully sorry. Forget I mentioned it."
She paused.
"I don't like it here," she squeaked. "But don't feel like you've got to ... I don't know ... You can just leave, if you want, I won't mind."
He frowned.
"I meant the invitation, you know," he said. "I really want to spend more time with you."
Rachel's face brightened.
"Oh," she said. "Yes. Sorry. Umm."
"Would you, erm," started Arthur. "Would you like to start again?"
"I think it'd be best, don't you?"
"I think I'm going to go for dinner," he repeated. "Are you hungry by any chance?"
"I'd love to come," she breathed.
"It's quite fun when you get used to it," said Arthur. "You just have to look for unusual ambitions to fulfil. Things that most people would ignore."
"We've certainly got plenty of work to keep everyone going," Sophia said. "Anyway, you've got ... ten thousand and thirteen points. Which, by a narrow margin, earns you access to the Ambition Lounge."
She retrieved a violet plastic card from her drawer, and placed it into a slot on the computer. She typed something in, and pulled out the card.
"Use this to get into the lift to the left," she told Arthur, handing him the card. "It'll take you directly to the Lounge."
"Right," said Arthur. "Thanks." He paused a moment. "So, erm ... what is this Lounge exactly?"
"Mostly for relaxation," said Sophia. "A gathering place, exclusive to members who earn over ten thousand points. It also has unrestricted access to the Ambition database, which should enable you to help more people more efficiently." She smiled. "Makes sense to make work easier for those who've helped the most, doesn't it?"
Arthur smiled, and thanked her, before heading for the lift.
-10001-
"... and then, on Saturday night, I was having dinner with Dennis Freeman, and ..."
"Don't do that."
"What?"
"Name-dropping. It gets right on my nerves."
"What do you mean, 'name-dropping'?"
"Well, if he was really such a good friend, you'd call him 'Dennis', wouldn't you? But no, you have to use his full name."
"Why would I just call him Dennis? You know who he is, so it'd be a bit stupid to pretend he was just some guy."
"It sounds like he's just a name to you!"
"He's my friend. I just know him, that's all."
Arthur watched the argument from the lift. There was around a dozen people sitting on the long, pastel-coloured sofa, but only two were talking – a man and a woman. The whole company looked much younger than he'd expected; mostly in their mid-twenties to early-thirties. He stepped forwards cautiously.
The group turned and saw him, they all bounced to their feet and dashed over.
"Hia, how are you?"
"New, aren't you?"
"What was your ambition?"
"What's your name?"
"Who do you know here?"
"Hi, I'm Alexander Exton."
Arthur blustered his answers, and after a time, most of them lost interest, and started talking among themselves again. One girl, however – a rotund twenty-something who'd kept mostly quiet thus far – stayed behind.
"It was Arthur Pritchard, wasn't it?" she said.
"Call me Arthur," he said, his head still spinning.
"Then you can call me Rachel." She grabbed his hand. "Come on – let's check out the computers."
And she bounded away, around the corner, away from the sofas, past a self-serving bar, through a set of double-doors, and into a more subdued room, with blue lights built into the walls. The room contained five or six large computer consoles, reminding Arthur of the touchscreen ones in Job Centres.
She released his hand, and sat on a stool by the nearest consoles. Arthur took the stool next to her.
"So, how do these computers work?" he asked.
"Oh, that doesn't matter," said Rachel. "We need to talk about the Lounge. I'm file one-six-double-two-double-nine."
Arthur's eyebrows shot up. "Am I expected to know my file number by heart?"
"In the Lounge? Certainly," replied Rachel. "But it might not be your scene. See, It's full of zed-list members, hoping to be the next Dennis Freeman or Jemima Cross."
"Who?"
"Good lord, you'll need to take a look at the in-house magazine. You won't survive a second in here if you don't know your high-profilers." She pressed something on the screen. "Look, checking the profile rankings is a good way to find out who they are, but for more details, you'll need to read interviews and things."
Arthur checked the monitor.
"This one doesn't have a name," he said, indicating the top of the list.
"He's a bit of a mystery," said Rachel. "He chose to hide his identity, in the days before details were mandatory, and was allowed to continue operating in secret."
"But we know he's a 'he'?"
"Ah, well, no," said Rachel, blushing. "I think everyone's got an image of what he's like, though, and mine's male." She shuffled on her stool. "Anyway, I think most people like to imagine that THEY'RE the number one member, so they come to the Lounge and do their best to appear important, hoping that naïve members will think 'oh, wow, I wonder if it's them'."
"You don't much get on with these people, then?" asked Arthur.
"They're alright," said Rachel, shrugging. "They're self-obsessed, but sometimes that's a good thing. If you've earned your entry to the Lounge, you're okay by them. Never mind what you're like or ... what you look like ..."
She trailed away, and Arthur looked at her sadly. Surely she didn't spend time with these awful people out of loneliness?
"So, what was your ambition?" he asked gently.
"Doesn't matter," she mumbled. She was busying herself with the monitor, checking the details of high-profilers.
Arthur swallowed.
"Rachel," he said. He smiled softly. "I don't know your surname."
"Parsons," she murmurmed.
"I don't think I like this place," said Arthur. "I think I'm going to go elsewhere."
"Okay."
"I'm going to go to dinner." He licked his lips, and straightened on the stool. "Would you like to accompany me?"
She turned to look at him.
"You don't need to do that," she said gently.
"Right, no, of course," blustered Arthur. "Sorry." He paused. "I got the impression you didn't like it here, and ... Umm, I'm awfully sorry. Forget I mentioned it."
She paused.
"I don't like it here," she squeaked. "But don't feel like you've got to ... I don't know ... You can just leave, if you want, I won't mind."
He frowned.
"I meant the invitation, you know," he said. "I really want to spend more time with you."
Rachel's face brightened.
"Oh," she said. "Yes. Sorry. Umm."
"Would you, erm," started Arthur. "Would you like to start again?"
"I think it'd be best, don't you?"
"I think I'm going to go for dinner," he repeated. "Are you hungry by any chance?"
"I'd love to come," she breathed.
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