The Prophecy, At the Citadel, Chapter Three

‘It’s too dangerous,’ said the Head of  Diplomacy. ‘Once anything leaves Terrestra at the moment, it could come under attack, if not from the Zandrians themselves, from their sympathisers.’

Razjosh had just finished putting his case for the transfer of himself and the new Peace Child from Terrestra to Zandra. He looked round at the hall full of Council members. It wasn’t the first time he had had to talk to them. Of course Elders should be able to talk to Council of Heads’ members. But they were all very clever people, all of them in charge of one aspect of life on Terrestra, and Elder though he was, it was still daunting.

Frazier Kennedy was staring at him. Razjosh had a lot of respect for the Head of Education. He was one of the most sincere  Heads of Services that there was. But he had changed since that daughter of his had gone missing all those years ago.

‘And the boy is quite ready, you think?’ he asked Razjosh.

‘He certainly is,’ replied Razjosh. ‘And raring to go. You know how bold our youngsters can be.’

‘I certainly do,’ said Frazier. ‘Thank goodness they are.’

He grinned briefly and then a cloud seemed to pass across his face.

I guess he’s thinking about one youngster in particular, thought Razjosh.

The Head of Education was staring, day-dreaming. Then he grinned.

‘You’ve always got to trust to delegate,’ he said. ‘After all, we made them what they are.’

Not all the faces in the Council Chamber were as friendly as Frazier Kennedy’s, though. Razjosh could not tell at all what some people were thinking and others were positively hostile. The Head of Transport slouched in his seat. He had not said anything during the debate and he had his arms crossed in front of his chest. He was scowling at Razjosh.

He’s not supposed to look like that at an Elder, thought Razjosh. But he knew that he shouldn’t be expecting automatic respect. He was supposed to command it.  I’m losing my touch, definitely.

The Master called order.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he said. ‘We shall vote after the recess. Refreshments will be served for thirty minutes.’

The members of the Council kept their distance from Razjosh. People never did quite seem to know how to deal with Elders. He guessed Frazier Kennedy would have been friendly enough, but he was deep in conversation with the Head of Building.

Suddenly someone rushed up to him.

‘There is no way, no way, any vessel will ever leave this planet again!’ shouted the voice. It was Ponty Davidson, the Head of Transport. ‘Not if I have anything to do with it. No way do we want any contact with others. We had to struggle to get this planet clean.’

Several people had turned to look to see what was going on. Razjosh recognized the face of Danielle Thomas, the Head of Science. She smiled encouragingly at the Elder.

‘It will bring havoc. There’ll be others wanting to come here next. We don’t need others. We don’t need that pollution. We don’t need Terrestra to return to being a free access planet,’ shouted Davidson.

‘It doesn’t need to do that,’ said Razjosh, quietly. ‘There have been people who have come and gone to the planet from time to time. You know that happens. You know that we just have to keep that from the general public. Surely someone in your position must realise that?’

‘Hah!’ said Davidson. ‘That’s probably how the disease came to Terrestra in the first place. This right that the Elders have to overrule what the Council says. Just who do you think you are? What has happened now just about proves that it’s time to modernise. We want proper democracy on Terrestra.’

The soft mumble of people talking and the gentle clatter of cups had stopped. Everyone was staring at Razjosh and Ponty Davidson. Razjosh knew he had a point. When he himself had left the planet that first time all those years ago, the Council had been hung: there were as many votes against as for. The Elders had overruled and he had been allowed to go. That wasn’t democratic, he knew, but the Elders had access to information which ordinary people did not, and which they were, in any case, in no position to understand.

All sympathy he had had for Davidson’s point of view, however, disappeared immediately in the next few seconds.

‘We do not want help from sub-human beings. Nor do we want to mix with them. I am amazed that Elders have picked a throw-back as a Peace Child. Can we even be sure that he’s a thorough-bred Terrestran? Where did he get that strange appearance from anyway?’

No wonder Kaleem had problems with Stuart Davidson, thought Razjosh. That child has obviously learnt a lot from his father. How can someone like that get into the position of responsibility he’s holding?

‘I’m sure you really don’t mean that,’ Razjosh said quietly to Davidson. But the Head of Transport turned his back on the Elder and marched back into the Council Chamber. The other Heads of Ministries gradually put their cups down and started moving back onto the meeting. No-one spoke a word. Several of them gave the Elder dark looks. Just one or two smiled thinly.

Razjosh braced himself for what he was certain was going to happen next.

The Master called the Council to order again, though this was just a formality this time. No-one was speaking anyway.

‘We shall commence the vote,’ said the Master. ‘Will all Council members connect via the iris scanners and make their choice.’

Razjosh watched the two bars filling up on the screens. He knew that he and Kaleem were not going to be allowed to leave the planet.

The red ‘no’ vote bar was getting longer by the second. The blue ‘yes’ vote bar hardly moved. There was going to be no Elder overrule this time.

The gong on the dataserve signalled that the vote was completed.

‘The Council have voted that there shall be no further mission to Zandra in the foreseeable future,’ said the Master.

Several of the Council Members started to pack away their things and make their way out of the chamber. Danielle Thomas caught Razjosh’s eye. She raised one eye-brow lightly. He guessed  he knew which way she had voted. Not that she would have dared say anything. At times like this it was more important than ever to keep your views to yourself.

As Razjosh slowly made his way to the transporter that was waiting to take him back to the Citadel, he asked himself  what he was going to tell his young trainee. How was he going to be able to tell him that it looked as if all that training had been for nothing? And there was then the question of what to do next. It was vital that they should negotiate with the Zandrians.

The Prophecy, At the Citadel, Chapter One

He was not sitting waiting for Kaleem in his room, as he had done on other similar occasions. He was standing in the lounge.

‘He will only need clothes for the first few days,’ he heard Razjosh say to the house robot. ‘But we will need to make the apartment secure. Go round and shut down all units - apart from the dataserve in Kaleem’s room - on secure standby, yourself last of all.’

‘The dataserve is to remain open?’ asked the machine, almost defiantly.

‘Until all files created by Kaleem Malkendy for the Peace Child project have been uploaded. We can set it to secure shut-down from the Citadel.’

The machine seemed to hesitate for a split second. It moved slightly towards him. Kaleem thought it was looking at him. But then it whirred and clunked.

‘Sir,’ it said and rumbled out of the room.

‘If there is anything particular you want, tell it,’ said Razjosh. ‘But don’t worry about anything too practical. We can sort that out once we’re at the Citadel.’

The Citadel? Only Elders were allowed in the Citadel, weren’t they?

‘I know, I know,’ said Razjosh. ‘I’m surprising you again. I do apologise. But you can see how urgent it’s all got, can’t you?’

Kaleem’s mouth had gone dry and he was feeling slightly dizzy. He licked his lips to moisten them. He had the odd feeling that he was floating. This could not be real.

‘Well, is there anything personal you want to take with you?’ asked Razjosh. His voice was rather sharp.

Kaleem said nothing.

‘We really must hurry,’ said Razjosh. ‘Go and take a look in your room.’

The house robot was coming out of his bedroom when he arrived at the door. It was carrying three of  Kaleem’s tunics - a worn grey one, an immaculate blue satin one he had not yet worn and a black formal one - and some other items of clothing.

‘Are these suitable, sir?’ it asked.

‘I guess,’ mumbled Kaleem.

‘Command unknown,’ said the machine.

‘Affirm,’ said Kaleem. What did he care about what he would wear? He’d really rather like to know where exactly he was going. He had no idea where the Citadel was and neither did anyone else as far as he could tell. And he would really like to have had some idea of why he was going there.

The machine trundled on its way. Kaleem looked around his room. How could he decide what he wanted to take, when he didn’t know where he was going or what was going to happen there?

The blue and gold book was lying on his bed. He picked it up and looked at the pictures. He remembered the movie he had seen. He turned the pages slowly, taking in the story again through the pictures and the Wordtext captions. In his head, he could hear all the languages he now knew competing with each other for meaning. But he wasn’t confused like the people in the pictures. He could understand what each of them was saying. He was so absorbed in what was happening on the tower that he did not hear Razjosh come and stand in the doorway.

‘Ah yes,’ said the Elder, less aggressively now. His voice had become calm again. ‘The Babel book. Yes that must come. Hurry now, though, we mustn’t delay any longer.’

Kaleem wondered for a second whether this was the moment to tell Razjosh about the movie. But the old man did not give him time to speak.

‘We shall go and see your mother before we leave,’ he said, ‘and I also think it would be a good idea for you to visit your friend. You need to remind yourself who you are before the real intensity begins. We have clearance.’

Razjosh was striding towards the entrance to the apartment. Kaleem knew his only choice was to follow.

‘All systems on secure shut down,’ said the house robot as it looked at them through the movie window to the outside. Its voice was even more impersonal than ever. It was not using its programmed accent any more. ‘Going on to secure stand-by.’ The movie link faded.

A private transporter was waiting outside the entrance to the cave apartment.

Seconds later, the vehicle was making its way silently towards the Medical Centre. Kaleem’s stomach was churning. He thought he might be about to vomit again. He remembered his illness and shivered.

The transporter smelt of newness. The comfisessels were so advanced that the wearer could almost not feel them at all. There was absolutely no sense of movement, except when you looked through the veriglass windows and saw buildings and other vehicles passing by.

Kaleem looked at the Elder.

‘Grip the sides of the comfisessel,’ said Razjosh. ‘That will stop the nausea.’

Kaleem did as Razjosh had said. It seemed to work. But how did Razjosh know about nausea? When there had been no illness in his lifetime until now?

But this wasn’t illness. This was … Kaleem didn’t know what it was. It didn’t just come from the strange way the transporter was moving. It was all those other things that were going on as well. So how come other people hadn’t felt like this even when they weren’t ill?

Maybe life was just too easy, he thought.

The nausea subsided gradually, but as the transporter pulled up outside the Medical Centre, Kaleem’s stomach turned over again. His mouth went dry and he was trembling slightly.

Oxton Mesrip was there to meet them.

‘Your mother is physically fine,’ he said, as they walked along the white-walled corridors.  ‘And she is sleeping and waking normally. We have noticed rapid eye movements, so we assume that she is also dreaming.’

At least Oxton sounded optimistic. He was a tall man, and actually quite young. Kaleem guessed he was only a few years older than him. There was something about the way that he walked purposefully along the corridors that made you think he knew what he was doing.

‘She’s eating and drinking regularly,’ said Oxton. ‘But she still won’t speak, and hardly responds when she’s spoken to. She does seem to enjoy watching old movie clips and makes some response to those.’

He stopped walking.

‘This is her room,’ he said. The door remained closed. ‘Don’t expect too much,’ he said. He lined his eye up to the scanner and the door slid open.

The blinds were down at the windows and the room was almost in complete darkness, lit only by the images moving across the dataserve screen. Maria had her back to them.

‘You’ve got visitors, Maria’ said Oxton quietly. He touched her back lightly.

‘Close file, lights on,’ he said in a more normal voice, speaking towards the dataserve console.

The room flooded with light. Kaleem could see that it had become a much more comfortable room. There were comfisessels and pastel-coloured rugs and cushions. A pale blue throw covered the bed. There were pictures of mountains and forests on the wall.

Maria sat stiffly with her back to them. Her back was hunched.

‘Don’t you want to say hello to your visitors, Maria?’ asked Oxton.

Slowly she turned towards them. Kaleem’s heart was racing. The nausea returned.

He could not believe that this old woman, who now stared at him, was his mother. She seemed to have aged at least twenty years. Her hair had obviously been brushed and was neatly tied back. It seemed dull and life-less, though. Her skin looked tired. It didn’t seem to fit her anymore and hung loosely. She may be eating and drinking all right now, but the weeks in the coma had done their damage. There were dark circles around her eyes. For a few seconds, though, there was a flicker of recognition. She was staring at Kaleem. There was almost a question in her gaze.

‘Mum,’ whispered Kaleem. He put his hand out to touch her.

She shrieked and pulled away. She shut her eyes, folded her arms in front of her chest, hugged her shoulders, and started rocking herself backwards and forwards.

Kaleem swallowed hard to try and get rid of the lump in his throat.

‘She was like that with all of us when she first came out of the coma,’ he heard Oxton say quietly to Razjosh. ‘But she’s generally all right now with those of us she knows.’

Maria turned back to the dataserve screen. She started whimpering and pointing to it.

‘Okay, okay, Maria, easy now, easy now,’ said Oxton. ‘Resume file, low volume,’ he said to the dataserve.

The movie continued. It was a story set on the day the poison cloud lifted.

‘That’s one of her favourites,’ said Oxton.

‘What else does she like?’ asked Razjosh.

‘Actually,’ replied Oxton, ‘anything set in that time. Even the old news files.’

The lump in Kaleem’s throat would not let him ask the questions he was desperate to ask. He felt Oxton’s hand suddenly on his shoulder.

‘She is improving every day, you know,’ he said. ‘I think we’ll have another major break-through soon.’

Oxton was right, he knew. She was at least awake now. But soon wasn’t soon enough. He was going away. He had to go away, he knew that. He just wished he could tell her why.

Razjosh and Oxton continued to talk. Kaleem could understand little of what they were saying. Razjosh seemed to be describing what they had found out about the disease and then all sorts of complicated medical details about how Maria was at the moment.

Kaleem tried to make sense of the movie that Maria was watching. It was some sort of romance. But it was difficult to follow what the characters were saying because the volume was so low. Every so often, though, there was the hint of a smile on her lips.

‘We’d better go,’ said Razjosh. ‘You’ll continue to send daily reports to the Citadel?’

‘Of course,’ said Oxton. ‘Are you going to say good-bye to your visitors, Maria?’

Maria just pulled herself into a tighter ball and whimpered. The dataserve obviously understood what she meant. The volume went up.

Kaleem did not want to look at the two men, but Razjosh came over to him and turned him round so that he had to look at the Elder.

‘You can see why you have to go, can’t you?’ he asked.

Kaleem could only nod. The knot in his throat seemed to be getting tighter, was almost stopping him from being able to breathe. Suddenly he wanted to punch or kick something or someone. He couldn’t move, though.

The Prophecy Out of Bounds Chapter Eleven

Kaleem replayed Razjosh’s message several times. It was really very scary. If the Terrestrans couldn’t accept the Zandrians’ terms, there would be no hope of getting the vaccine back to Terrestra. And without the vaccine, more people were going to die.

He called up a news channel.

‘Seventeen more deaths,’ said the news robot. ‘All in the X sector. Concern is growing that an antidote will not be found quickly enough.’

That’s not really true, thought Kaleem. There could be thousands dying and they wouldn’t actually say.

‘They’re letting out enough facts to keep people on their toes,’ Razjosh had said. ‘But not enough to cause panic. If people really knew how bad it’s become, then there would be even more riots.’

Kaleem flicked back to Razjosh’s message. The hologram was really very convincing. It looked even more real than the ones from the Elders’ Citadel. That Supercraft must really be something.

Razjosh looked serious and tired.

‘We have to step up the programme even further,’ said the old man. ‘It won’t be easy, I know. You’re working pretty well flat out now. And there’ll be more visits to holographed planets. We have to move on even more quickly.’

It was that hesitation again. Kaleem could not help but think that Razjosh actually wanted to tell him something extra, but didn’t dare to. At least not from so many light years away and in holographic form. And he couldn’t begin to guess what that may be. New Hidden Information then?

The dataserve’s communicator sounded.

‘Receive,’ commanded Kaleem.

Kaleem felt his stomach turn as he recognised Oxton Mesrip, one of three medical workers assigned to look after Maria. It was all piling in now. Had Maria got worse?

But the man was smiling. ‘We have some good news,’ said Oxton. ‘Your mother has woken up. She is not yet speaking and she is still very weak, but she has come out of the coma. She has no fever, and it seems that she is fighting the disease and is winning.’

‘I should be there,’ said Kaleem.

‘Er, no you can’t can you?’ said Oxton. ‘Remember there is still a movement ban on. We want to keep a very close eye on her and conduct further tests. And we don’t want too much excitement for her at the moment. But we’ll keep you informed.’

The screen went blank. Kaleem felt almost relieved that he hadn’t got to go out again. But what was it going to be like now? Was it going to perhaps be even worse now that Maria was awake? Would she go back to being how she had been before? Or would she need him to look after her? Would she improve enough to leave the medical centre? Or would she be forever in this strange state? This disease was so unknown. Perhaps Razjosh would be able to tell him more when he got back.

A news flash message came on the screen. This time it was one of the more familiar human newsreaders who spoke.

‘A Supercraft Excelsior has been spotted making its way towards Terrestra,’ said the man. For once he did not speak in the normal even tones of the news presenters. His voice seemed agitated and his face was clearly strained. ‘It entered the exclusion zone at Universal Time 15.23 this afternoon. A broadcast from another Supercraft of unknown origin, has assured the authorities that this means no harm to Terrestra. However, it has been considered that this could be a hoax. In the next few hours, a decision will be made about whether to consider this a hostile approach and therefore what action if any should be taken. Keep your news channels open to stay informed.’

This was ridiculous. The Supercraft had been sent with the Elders’ approval. So why didn’t the news channels know? Was the Supercraft going to Zandra Hidden Information? Or Golden Knowledge?  They must know about it. Maybe they did. Maybe somebody was giving away information they should have kept secret. Or maybe the news creators had just kept their eyes and ears open.

Kaleem’s stomach turned again. There was definitely going to be trouble. No way would the Terrestran authorities let that Zandrian Supercraft get anywhere near Terrestra. Even if it was on an aid mission. They wouldn’t stop to ask.

It’s going to be a complete disaster, he thought. This definitely took the edge away from the good news about his mother.

He opened a data file from Razjosh. It was in Wordtext. Kaleem could read that quite easily now. It was almost a relief now to be doing some ordinary work. Normally, this would have seemed tedious. But today he was glad to have something to get on with that took his mind off these other matters.

‘There is a universal grammar,’ he read. ‘Every language needs to express past, present and future tenses, active and passive voices, indicative and subjunctive moods.’  Kaleem scratched around at the back of his mind. Yes, he could just about remember what that meant.

He read on.

‘Always there will be a default word order. In some languages parts of speech are indicated by word order. In others, inflections are used. But every language must indicate who is doing what in each sentence.’

Kaleem though he could just about grasp what this meant. And inflections - wasn’t that like the endings on words in languages like German?

‘Each language uses its prepositions differently. But each prepositional idea you have in your own language must be expressed somehow in the language you are studying, as will all notions of time.’

Now that did sound familiar. In English you went by car but in German you went with it.

‘There will in any case be idiomatic uses of words and expressions in all languages. They must be learnt as separate entities. And finally, each language will have a system of gender and plurals, some languages being more complex than others in these matters.’

Yes, he knew that! That was such a lot to learn sometimes.

‘These then are the five fundamental points of any grammar system. Look for them in any language. Knowledge of this will actually accelerate structural competence.’

Ah! thought Kaleem, and then there’s all the rest. All those words, and all the different bits and pieces you need to know to do those things.

‘And as if all that is not enough, plus the whole word system which underlies all of this, you have to get used to all those cultural differences. So, we’ll soon need to work more with the holograms.’

Ha! Ha! Ha! thought Kaleem. Well, I’ve got my work cut out, then, haven’t I?

He was just about to open one of his other data files. He did not have chance to, though, because the news channel cut in again. This time it was an override news flash. It was the same newscaster as before. This time he looked even more strained.

‘We regret to announce,’ he said in that voice that the newscasters reserved for the most serious bits of news, ‘that the arrival of the Supercraft Excelsior has indeed been deemed to be an act of aggression. A verbal warning was given. This was ignored, and the protection authorities had no alternative than to fire warning shots. One of them damaged the right wing of the Supercraft. The damage was only superficial and in no way has harmed its functioning. It has now turned away from the planet. A tracker has been attached to find out its origin.’

So stupid, thought Kaleem. The Supercraft Excelsior had come in peace. It had brought a source of help in the fight against this terrible disease. And the Terrestrans had attacked it. Why didn’t they know that?  So what is a Peace Child supposed to do about that?

---

The Prophecy Out of Bounds Chapter Eight

He was going to have to get out of this, no question. He pushed the book hastily into the inside of his tunic.

‘Come on Kaleem,’ said Zema. ‘Don’t be difficult.’ She held out her hand towards him. ‘Come on, then, the book.’

Kaleem fumbled inside his tunic. He pulled his arm out and grabbed Zema’s arm and twisted it. He clenched his teeth. This was really the last thing he wanted to do, but there was no choice. He wasn’t sure, whether he’d got the strength to hurt her, or the energy to run away from her.

Zema screeched in pain and tried to pull her arm away from him. He gave it one more twist and then let it go. She fell to the floor clutching her arm and shouting ‘Get him. Don’t let him get away.’

Kaleem darted forward. At least he could run. He had managed to keep himself quite fit despite being cooped up with a dataserve a lot of the time. By the time he’d got to the other side of the cave, to the side which lead into the cave with the glass roof, the other people in the room had only just reacted. They didn’t look too fit. He stood a chance.

The droids in the records room didn’t seem to be disturbed by the noise. Kaleem spotted an empty console. He darted underneath it and pulled a box that was at the side of it over in front of him.

‘Seal the entrances. Scan the caves,’ he heard Zema shouting as she came into this cave.

If they were going to scan, he didn’t have much of a chance. They’d find him by his body heat alone. He wouldn’t be able to hide from them.

The droids didn’t seem to be reacting much to Zema, but all at once all the fans on the dataserves started making a lot of noise. The droids must be activating the security programmes. Seconds later, there was a loud clunking. Kaleem guessed that some sort of gate must be coming down to the entrance of this cave system. He really didn’t have much of a chance. Could he hide the book somewhere? At least that would stop them doing anything with it for a while.

A droid stopped suddenly in front of the console.

This is it, though Kaleem. They’ll get me any minute now.

Then it occurred to them, that although all the operatives in this section of the cave network were droids, they were dressed like normal humans. Could he do it? Could he pretend to be a droid? Would the other droids notice? Would Zema? Well, she would if he couldn’t do anything to disguise himself. Then he noticed something shiny and metallic  sticking out of the cardboard box. Could he use that to make it look like one of the masks that some of the humans and some of the droids used? He daren’t move for the moment, though. Not with the droid there. And who knows how long it was going to stand there? This may all be over before it had really begun. The scanner would be sure to pick him up any second now.

A wave of warmth air drifted towards Kaleem. It was coming from the droid. They’re overheating, thought Kaleem. That’s why they’re not picking me up. It must be all the extra security measures. Or some other fault. He did wonder how they kept all their systems going here without the authorities finding out. They probably did get lots of breakdowns. It looked as if  luckily for him one was happening right now.

‘Search. Search between inner and outer gates,’ commanded Zema. She sounded hysterical now.

The droid hurried off in the direction of the door. Kaleem pulled at the piece of metal he had seen sticking out of the box. It not only looked like a mask. It was a mask. He slipped it on. It immediately it moulded itself to his face.  Now what? He thought. That had been a stupid thing to do. Goodness knows what this mask was supposed to do. Still, at least Zema wore one too.

Could he get away with this?

His heart thudded as he crawled out from under the console. This cave was deserted. The exit was now being guarded. The droids and the human operators were searching in the passages between the main entrance to the complex and the door to this cave system.

As Kaleem walked forward, he became aware of what the mask did. He started hearing instructions being whispered into his ear and a transparent holomovie appeared in front of him. The mask was telling him and showing exactly where he was. Was this some form of portable dataserve?

‘Alternative route to main exit?’ he whispered.

Immediately a three dimensional map holoed in front of him. He walked out of the exit, remembering to imitate the slightly stiffer movements of a droid and hold his head steady, suddenly jerking it to the side when need be. If he could call up information like this, so could the other droids and humans who were wearing similar masks. He wasn’t safe yet.

He carried on following the mask’s instructions. It was definitely taking him away from the other activity.

‘Can we really get out this way?’ asked Kaleem.

‘We are approaching an emergency exit,’ said the mask. ‘The escapee may have taken this route.’

Kaleem smiled to himself. The mask had not realised he was the escapee. The technology here was clever, just not all that clever. He just hoped it would stay that way.

‘How far to entrance?’ he asked the mask.         

‘One point five kilometres,’ reported the mask. ‘Is there an emergency?’ asked the mask. ‘Should emergency lock be activated?’

‘Yes, there is an emergency,’ said Kaleem. ‘There is a fire in central control.’  He hoped that the central control really was where he’d guessed it was. That would mean that the others would not try to cross back to this exit. They might try and go round or over the top, though.

‘The emergency lock is opened,’ said the mask ‘and a fire-proof transporter will be waiting. How many personnel will board?’

‘Just me,’ said Kaleem. I hope, he thought.

‘Proceed,’ said the mask.

Kaleem ran forward, following the arrows which the mask flashed up in front of him. He was soon out of breath. Eventually, though, he came to a blank wall. As soon as he stopped running, a stone door slid open.

And now? he thought.

‘Transporter approaching,’ said the mask.

He seemed to wait an age but at least there didn’t seem to be anybody following him.  Then there was a faint rumbling. It gradually grew louder and then suddenly in front of him was a standard, if a little old, two-person transporter.

Kaleem climbed into it.  ‘How do I get this thing to work?’ he muttered. He’d never before had a transporter all to himself.

‘Set coordinates for Excluded Zone Edge?’ asked the mask.

What on Terrestra was the Excluded Zone? Was that where the Hidden Information Centre was based?

‘I guess,’ mumbled Kaleem. Anything which would get him away from here would be good. And now would be better that later.

The transporter lurched forward and was soon hurtling along through the dark, just casting enough light in front of it from its two headlights for Kaleem to see that they were still in the underground system.

‘This face unit will stop working when we reach the Edge,’ reported the mask. ‘Shall we load manual control ready?’

‘Yes, ‘said Kaleem. ‘I hope’s there’s an instruction programme.’

‘Loaded, ready,’ reported the mask. ‘Sixty seconds to face unit shut down.’ The mask started counting. It reached zero and switched itself off. Kaleem ripped it off. The transporter stopped moving. A row of lights appeared in front of Kaleem. A movie clip started playing, and pointed out how he could set coordinates for anywhere on Terrestra. He gave the transporter his cave home address. It started to move again as the movie clip showed him how he could make the transporter go faster, or turn if he wanted to take a different direction.  There was even a control which made it go up or down. He couldn’t see that he’d need any of these. It looked as if the transporter was going to take him right home, and through the long forgotten underground cave system at that. But just for fun, he sent the transporter zooming forward faster, and then made it go up as near to the roof as he dare. This was actually quite something.

He became aware of sound coming from behind him. He looked. There was another transporter catching up with him fast. He could just make out the person driving it. Ninety!

Kaleem used the control which made it go even faster and dived back down towards the ground.