The Fable of Marcus Read online

  Chapter 6

  Rise of the Politician

  Back in Wycombe, there were many rumours circulating about the boy and the First

  Politician had gained a fair few more followers. A discreet aroma of mutiny was

  lingering around the town. Secret meetings were being held throughout the entire day

  and the strange absence of Marcus and the children was a real cause for concern.

  The First Politician began his campaign of propaganda, convincing people that the

  boy had been taken by the Dark-Tec armies and that they would return to punish them

  all for giving him refuge. And soon the inevitable occurred – the First Politician had

  enough followers that took over.

  ‘Get into his library, that’s where he’ll be hiding and drag him out – alive!’

  ‘Richard!’ Amy came barging into the library. ‘We have to get you out of here, it’s

  the First Politician; he’s killing everyone getting in his way, to get to you. He’s going

  to kill you!’ She screamed in panic.

  ‘It’s ok... I will not run from him or anyone else, for that matter. Besides, the boy is

  here now and Arthur will protect him. I’m tired Amy...’ by now the large doors which

  Amy had barricaded were being hit so hard that books began spilling off the shelves.

  ‘Quick Amy, take this!’ He handed the key, to the secret room, to her. ‘Get to the

  back of the room, there is a small door under the rug at the back. Get down there and

  follow the tunnel out of here. Go now!’

  ‘I’m not leaving you!’ The crashing was getting louder and they knew it was a matter

  of seconds before the exhausted doors would give in.

  ‘Amy! Listen to me... the boy is more important than all of this. Get out of here now!

  Find Marcus and do not let anything happen to him.’ Richard grabbed her arm tightly

  and stared deeply into her eyes, ‘promise me!’ Amy nodded, her eyes welling up.

  ‘Take this,’ he handed her a tatted old book with a tired, brown rubber band around it.

  ‘Make sure you only give this to him when he begins his journey alone – not a second

  before!’ Amy nodded, she had so many things to say but not a single word left her

  mouth.

  ‘Amy... go now!’ Amy ran and unlocked the door; with one quick glance back, she

  slammed the door shut – and not a moment too soon. The large doors to the library

  collapsed and a convoy of men barged in. Some of the men had looks of shame pasted

  on their faces, they knew deep down that what they were about to do was a crime – a

  disgraceful transgression. But consumed by fear and convinced by the poisonous

  tongue of the First Politician, they cautiously moved forward to grab Richard, who

  had his head buried deep within a book. As the approached him, he slammed the book

  on the table and removed his reading glasses. The men instantly froze and then crept

  forward again. ‘I always knew that I had one last fight in me but never... never did I

  ever imagine that... that fight would be with my own comrades.’ He stood up, faster

  than he had in years and swung his wooden stick. He smacked the man standing

  closest to him on the nose and instantly, a fountain of bright red blood sprayed in the

  air. He swung the stick again and hit the man next to him on the leg; there was a loud

  crack as the man’s leg gave way and he fell to the floor. He quickly used the stick like

  a snooker cue and poked another man in the eye and a downpour of red gushed out.

  The remaining few began stepping back as Richard pushed forward, outside the

  library. But as he got passed the doorway he failed to see the two men hiding behind

  either side of the doorway, who sneakily crept behind him and one of them struck him

  hard on the back. Richard stumbled forward but miraculously did not fall; he lifted his

  stick and with the last bit of strength he had left and the momentum of his staggering,

  he struck the First Politician with great force on the side of his face. The First

  Politician screamed in agony and fell to the ground. His men surrounded Richard and,

  hesitantly, began striking him with their wooden sticks. And it was not long before

  Richard plunged to the ground and lay on his back, struggling to breathe.

  ‘Stop!’ The First Politician ordered, holding his face in pain. When he removed his

  hand, a huge red blemish from Richards stick was tattooed on his face, gleaming with

  a deep, dark-blue bruising around it. The penetration was so hard that the First

  Politician’s left eye was swollen and blood-shot. He found it hard to talk, as if his jaw

  was broken or the stinging from his blazing cheek was making any movement of his

  facial muscles unbearable.

  ‘Leave him.’ He ordered, ‘you weak old man... look at you now – you’re pathetic. He

  turned to his crowd, which stood anxiously, resembling a sky of clouds waiting for

  the wind to push them into a direction. ‘Look at him! This is no leader. He would be

  happy to allow the Dark-Tec army to come and kill us all. Is that leadership? No, no,

  no! He is deluded; old-age has corrupted him, his mind is as weak as his rusty outer

  shell but yet he lives to propagate a fight against something that if we rage war

  against, will destroy us all! I am not a coward nor am I in favour of the Dark-Tec

  Empire, but I do posses common sense and have the determination to live! And I am

  sure you all want to live?’ He looked side to side out of the corners of his eyes. ‘I am

  doing this for my children – your children.’

  Richard began to laugh quietly and then coughed lightly – he screwed-up his face

  from time-to-time, in pain.

  ‘You’re so full of it. Everything that comes out of your mouth is like poison.’ Richard

  said, now finding it almost impossible to breathe. The First Politician smiled and

  lowered his face closer to Richard’s, ‘I will spare your life if you admit that what you

  were trying to do was wrong and accept that I... that I should lead us from here on.

  You have my word. I will not kill you. But remember if you decline, I will tear you

  from limb-to-limb!’ His aching jaw extended and spoke angrily with his teeth tightly

  clenched together. Everyone, from the men holding the weapons, the few general

  people scattered around and Amy, who was peeping from a small gap in the basement

  of the hidden room, began hoping that Richard would just say what the First Politician

  wanted to hear.

  ‘Come on...’ Amy whispered to herself.

  The crowd of people, like huddled sheep, stood nervously as the waited in this

  standoff. And a cold silence fell over them like night falling over day.

  ‘Please, please... Richard...’ Amy began chanting in a tense whisper.

  ‘Well! What’s it going to be? We haven’t got all day... well you certainly haven’t!’

  The First Politician taunted. Richard nodded and, with great struggle, turned to his

  side and then used his arms to force his body up into a sitting position. Instantly, the

  men, with the sticks, were on guard – fear on their faces. The First Politician smirked

  as he eagerly awaited the submission of, the great, Richard.

  ‘Ok... I was wrong and I made a huge mistake!’ Richard elevated his voice as best he

  could. The First Politician was shocked and thrilled at the statement, he could not

  contain his smile. His eyes lit up and he found it diff
icult to not cheer in excitement.

  The crowd of people were also in shock but hugely relieved that this will be the end

  of all of this fighting. Amy took deep breaths, also not expecting Richard to fold but

  glad he did.

  ‘Well... go on...’ The First Politician raised his eyebrows and gloated so much that his

  other cheek blushed a brighter red than the injured one.

  ‘Yes... this man that stands before you... is a snake! And the huge mistake that I made

  was not killing this conspirator when I had the chance. But even now, if he would

  fight fair, I would have him on the floor, pleading for mercy. He is a wimp and a

  pathetic shadow of a real man!’ Richard spat as hard as he could and a splatter of

  saliva and blood from Richard’s mouth slapped the First Politician in the face. The

  First Politician wiped his face and revealed a look of hideous rage. Amy’s heart began

  to thump, ‘No!’ She cried quietly.

  The First Politician was fuming and looked like a steaming engine that was about to

  explode; he wanted to scream at the top of his voice and had the sudden urge to

  ruthlessly stab everyone around him, but he took a few seconds and composed

  himself.

  The crowd of people became as white as the moon and any hope that this wouldn’t

  end badly was quickly washing away. The piping lava that filled his glowing face was

  evaporating into the air and his normal gloomy and pale complexion surfaced.

  He crouched down and whispered into Richard’s ear, ‘don’t be fooled, I am going to

  take great pleasure in killing you – at a snail's pace!’ his smirk now resembling a huge

  slice of a watermelon.

  Richard whispered something back but the First Politician could not hear it, so he put

  his ear forward and listened, ‘So will I!’ Richard whispered. The First Politician’s

  pupils expanded, his eyes almost burst out of their sockets and he screamed at the top

  of his lungs, the echo, like a bullet, travelled far afield. It appeared that Richard didn’t

  take to well to his threat and viciously bit off the bottom of the First Politician’s ear.

  A gush of blood trickled down the Politician’s neck and he fell to the ground in pain.

  ‘Kill him! Kill him, now!’ He roared like a beast being attacked.

  Like, old world, vultures, the men jumped in. They struck him with their sticks, each

  blow making Amy flinch and cry endlessly. It was a sad moment, even for the sheep

  that were attacking. But they continued as if they were soldiers simply following

  orders. And although they managed cast a thick blanket over their emotions, glimmers

  of guilt seeped through, making themselves question whether, or not, they had just

  sold their souls to the devil.

  Within moments, Richard was covered, almost head-to-toe, in blood, flowing like

  river and forming an ocean of melted rubies on the ground. The air was soaked in

  sorrow as a man, to whom everyone once trusted and cherished, was mercilessly

  murdered; and, ironically, at the hands of those who he would have undoubtedly died

  to protect.

  ‘Why the long faces?’ The First Politician yelled, applying maximum pressure on his

  ear to try to stop it from beading. ‘You should be rejoicing! We have, whether it feels

  like it or not, saved our lives by stopping this madman!’ But it didn’t matter what he

  said or what cunning rhetoric he used, there was no rejoicing nor were there any

  smiles. Guilt and regret began eating away at the men with sticks and spread like a

  disease. The sticks began feeling burdensome and the men threw them as if they were

  like burning coal.

  ‘Now that this is done and out of the way, we need to focus on finding the boy, if he is

  in the town, and handing him in before they come and get us!’

  But he did not get much of a response and within moments, everyone began drifting

  back to their homes. A few men stayed with the First Politician but were unable to rip

  their mournful eyes away from the valiant and admirable man that they had murdered

  in cold-blood. Aside from the blood violently spread everywhere, Richard lay

  peacefully, as if he were in deep sleep and free from any pain.

  Amy, who was still hiding and covering her mouth from screaming, gawped in

  anguish as streams of tears gushed down her bright red cheeks, her clogged nose

  prevented her from breathing properly, and excessive saliva poured sluggishly out of

  her mouth. The walls were caving in on her and her chest was being crushed; the

  world was crumbling around her and the words of her wise and courageous leader

  rehearsed continuously on her mind. And she knew that if the boy was to die then this

  tragedy would have been meaningless.

  The clouds swiftly huddled together as a punishing, and even colder breeze appeared,

  masking the sun and depriving everyone of its warm glow. The leaf deprived trees

  looked as though they too were suffering nakedly from the fierce winds and it was not

  long before the clouds clashed and poured down their wrath – thunder hammered

  from above, lightning scorched sky and large hailstones battered the ground.

  ‘We need to find some shelter!’ Arthur yelled over the ear-splitting sounds. Nicole

  pointed to a building close-by. It was old and tatted – the windows broken and sharp

  triangles of broken glass were wedging out of the frames. Most of its roof tiles lay

  dead on the floor around it and the conked-out door was hanging by a thread.

  The three long chimneys indicated that it was an old factory of some sort.

  The darkness escaping from the broken windows and door made it look like a ghost,

  staring at them – it looked haunted.

  ‘I... I don’t know about this...’ Mary stuttered.

  ‘What do you know about?’ Thomas said, bruised from the hail. He ran past everyone

  and headed into the building.

  ‘I can’t believe it!’ Ryan marvelled.

  ‘I know... what a burst of bravery!’ Nicole remarked. But Ryan rolled his eyes and

  smiled, ‘no... I meant, I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen tubby run!’ He ran

  after him laughing. On approaching the entrance, they all braced themselves and

  expected the worst.

  Ryan, who they all agreed, now deserved of the title, Ryan the explorer, soon found

  the switch for the lights, which was great but unfortunately didn’t help with the

  freezing temperature.

  ‘What is this place?’ Louise asked as she ran her fingers across the old machinery

  cluttered around the place.

  ‘It’s some kind of factory...’ Marcus said as if he knew something about it all. ‘They

  used these machines to make things to sell. They programmed them to work like us to

  save on time and money.’ Arthur was staring at Marcus contently the entire time he

  was talking.

  ‘How do you know this?’ Arthur asked.

  ‘I... I’m not quite sure...’

  ‘What else do you know about these things and...’ but Arthur was soon interrupted by

  a loud hiss, which made everyone jump. The sound was like pressure being released

  from something. Then there was another sound but this one had a bang before the

  hiss, like a pipe bursting. The familiar feeling of alarm circled the air and their

  muscles tightened as the unsettling sound intensified. Arthur removed his arrow gun

&n
bsp; and pointed it towards the back of the large room, where the sound was coming form.

  Ryan stepped forward with his sword – his hands trembling. Arthur and Ryan stepped

  ahead of the others and held their ground.

  ‘Listen...’ Arthur whispered, ‘no matter what runs out on us, no matter how big or

  scary it may seem, you go for it and you do not stop until its insides have felt the

  brunt of your sword! Do you understand?’ Ryan nodded, and Arthur nodded back.

  Ryan could feel a quiver run up from his legs all the way to the end of the sword. He

  clenched the handle tightly and mentally prepared himself, ready to go into battle.

  The tables and machines began to shake, as did their nerves, the loud banging vibrated

  the ground beneath them as, out of the darkness of the room, a humongous metal

  object arose. It had eight metal legs and round body, strangely resembling a spider, in

  its appearance and characteristics. It had two glowing eyes, like headlights on a truck

  and it rushed towards them. Arthur shot an arrow at the object but it simply bounced

  off, as if the metal arrow were made out of rubber. Ryan ran and struck the object as

  hard as he could on its leg; there was a huge spark and Ryan’s arm vibrated

  vigorously. Everyone began hunting for anything they could find to fight the object

  with. Loose table legs were torn off their tired bodies, rusted pipes ripped out of the

  walls and cables clenched tightly and used as whips. They all went for the attack, but

  their efforts useless against the untarnished mammoth – not even scratch.

  For the first time ever, Arthur looked tired, his efforts defeated. But as their thriving

  momentum faded and the adrenaline that was fuelling their drive measured on empty,

  something very odd came to light; as the colossal object got close, it stopped in it

  tracks and froze like a statue. The eyes were still shimmering and its mechanical

  sound still grumbling.

  ‘Is it dead?’ Thomas asked, clenching tightly to the only thing he could find – a

  wooden broom.

  ‘Yeah! I think you frightened it to death with your lethal weapon. Muppet!’ Ryan

  chuckled. Although still a little shaky, he found the courage to crack a joke; typically

  at Thomas’s expense.

  ‘Why has it frozen then?’

  ‘That is a good question...’ Arthur said, running his hand across its round body.

  ‘Maybe we shouldn’t question it, accept that it was some-kind of miracle and get the

  hell outta here!’ Mary said shaking in her speech.

  ‘That doesn’t sound like a bad shout!’ Nicole remarked.

  ‘This is so weird, it still feels warm and sounds like it is still functioning... so, why

  has it suddenly stopped?’ Arthur quietly muttered to himself.

  ‘What the hell are you?’ Marcus asked staring deep into its luminous lights. They all

  jumped and looked like ghosts when the object spoke. It was in a strange almost

  mechanical voice, ‘I am the XJ2 defence leader.’ And then it went completely quiet

  again.

  Arthur put his weapon away and stared at the object confused, ‘it talks... what do you

  want?’ Arthur asked, but received no reply.

  ‘It’s busted.’ Louise said calmly.

  ‘I don’t think so...’ said Arthur.

  ‘The joints on its legs look rusted. I wonder how old this thing is?’ Marcus said

  touching the rusted bolts on the knees of its spidery leg.

  ‘XJ2 series was first manufactured in year 2080, I was a late and modified model

  made in 2093.’ It spoke again.

  ‘Who sent you, do you want to kill us?’ Arthur shouted, but again received no

  response.

  ‘Wait a minute...’ said Nicole, walking forward slowly. ‘Marcus ask it something

  again.’

  ‘umm... what year... is it?’ Marcus mumbled, confused on what to ask it.

  ‘It is the year 2130.’ It replied instantly.

  ‘It’s only responding to Marcus!’ Nicole said, almost appearing excited. Marcus stood

  solid in shock. He found it hard to think with the horrendous hail now forcing its way

  in through the broken windows and tapping brutally onto the concrete floor of the old

  factory.

  ‘Why are you here? And why do you only answer me? Marcus asked, swallowing

  nervously.

  ‘I am here because I was designed to crawl in free roam and protect mankind. I

  answer you because I was programmed to only answer to Humans – Humans are the

  engineers.’

  ‘Are there more like you?’

  ‘There are more, not all like me.’

  ‘Are you part of Dark-Tec?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Who were you programmed by then?’

  ‘I was programmed by Darcy Tyler Enterprise.’

  Darcy Tyler... why does that sound so familiar, Marcus fell into deep thought.

  ‘Wait a minute... how do you know I am human and what are these guys then?’

  ‘Humans do not have artificial neurons; I cannot communicate with your neurons.

  These... guys are not human!’

  ‘So, what is going on now what are your instructions... orders or whatever?’

  ‘I do not know, the system crashed and no signals were received. XJ2 was

  programmed to go into sleep mode after 2 weeks of no activity.’

  ‘So, who woke you up?’ Marcus said and they all looked around, paranoid.

  ‘You did.’

  ‘But how?’

  ‘You are the human engineer – and you will re-program me.’ They all stood

  completely baffled. Arthur could not believe his ears.

  ‘Re-program? But how?’

  ‘I am capable of visual and sound recognition.’

  ‘Cool... so I can program you by talking to you? Right?’

  ‘Right. You must pre-define new rules and must override old rules and instructions if

  contradictions occur. You can use natural language.’

  ‘Ok...ok, let’s start by you defining all previous rules.’

  ‘Await instructions from engineer...’

  ‘Ok... we got that go on...’

  ‘That is all.’

  ‘That can’t be all. That doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘That is all.’

  ‘But you are here, how did you get here?’

  ‘I do not know. It appears that the virus ‘KDTGB’ aimed to infect, corrupt and erase

  data. And succeeded.’

  ‘Were all machines infected?’

  ‘Maybe, but unlikely.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Viruses are normally detected and contained quickly.’

  ‘So, that means that the other things in the old sewers were in sleep mode but still had

  these... pre-defined instructions.’ Arthur said, staring out of the window and imaging

  what else could be out there.

  ‘You said something about you and defence. Does that mean you have weaponry or

  can fight or something?’ Marcus asked with a louder tone as if he had thought about

  what to do next.

  ‘Yes I have weaponry and can fight.’

  ‘Show us your weaponry.’

  The legs of the object instantly crouched a little and the two round lights beamed

  brighter. Two little square plates of metal moved on both the left and right side its

  body and metal nozzles hissed out like long ascending telescopes. Immediately it

  began firing rapid rounds of bullets all of which struck the triangular shaped glass,

  breaking it off without, so much as, touching t
he window frame.

  ‘Well that was precise!’ Arthur remarked, with his fingers still tightly wedged in his

  ears. The object then crouched and lowered its legs, looking much more stable. It

  rotated its body at a slightly higher angle, all the while, a larger plate slid open from

  the centre of its body and a nozzle thrice the size ripped out fast. Arthur’s eyes

  increased in size dramatically as he stared in fear. ‘Get down! Now!’ He shouted at

  the top of his voice. The weapon fired, lighting up the entire room and shot out a

  small rocket the size of a large carrot. They all dived to the ground and covered their

  heads as the eroded bricks on the wall exploded. When Marcus peeped though gap

  between his fingers, he noticed that there was a great hole, leading outside, four or

  five time the length and width of the, never to be seen again, door. The winds were

  now inside the building, cooling the room like a freezer. But they were all already

  frozen – frozen in shock.

  ‘So, what now?’ Arthur said to Marcus as if he was relieving himself from command

  and electing Marcus to lead them.

  ‘I... don’t know...’ He muttered.

  ‘We need to get back to Wycombe and take that thing with us! Richard will know

  what to do,’ suggested Thomas.

  ‘That’s probably the smartest thing you’ve said all day!’ Arthur said and then

  muttered, ‘probably wanna get back coz you’re hungry, I bet...’ under his breath.

  Thomas, hearing the sly comment, tilted his head slightly, screwed up his face and

  smiled angrily.

  Marcus nodded, agreeing with the suggestion but was phased when looking at

  Nicole’s sunken expression.

  ‘No... we will go to the library first...then we will go back to Wycombe.’ He

  commanded, nervously.

  Nicole’s face instantly swam back to its natural, glowing position and she smiled

  brightly.

  Arthur not convinced that was the best idea, nodded in agreement.

  ‘Do you know where the library is?’

  ‘Negative, but these factories do normally have paper maps in the offices.’

  ‘Can you show us?’

  The object turned and began crawling towards the back of the room, lighting the way

  with his headlights. They all decided to follow. When they stepped inside the office

  type room at the back, they instantly noticed a tatty, dust-covered map of the area.

  The rest of the office was simple – one table, one chair, a small filling cabinet and a

  strange abstract painting tilting on the wall. A dark and empty feel circulated the room

  like an awful, lingering smell. And the small window in centre of the wall had

  suffered the same shattered fate the rest.

  The map was ragged and the dirt that had manifested itself all over it made it almost

  impossible to read anything.

  ‘There it is!’ Louise shouted pointing at an area on the map.

  ‘That’s great... but where are we on the map?’ Thomas asked.

  ‘That’s a good bloody question!’ Ryan said, scratching his head.

  ‘look at this... this is where road swerves in an odd shape, faintly resembling the letter

  ‘M’ I remember the road... we walked on it and this building was on the left... so we

  must be... here!’ Mary pointed at map, convinced that she was correct.

  ‘Well, that’s good enough for me! Grab the map and let’s go!’ Arthur said already

  walking towards the exit. They all followed and left through the huge hole in the wall.

  Outside, the clouds had begun drifting apart, the hail had stopped its reign of terror

  and the thunder grew tired of punishing the sky. And although the day had brightened,

  there was no sign of the sun and the winds were still striking like a high-pressured

  hose-pipe, spraying out ice-cold air.

  The road to the library did not seem as frightening with this metallic grey beast

  walking beside them. And for Marcus, who could now control it, it was like walking a

  guard dog, ready to attack anything or anyone who tries to hurt them.

  As they walked briskly but cautiously through long and curvy road, avoiding the large

  pot-holes, they began imagining what had happened here. The damaged buildings,

  burned and crushed metal vehicles and huge cracks running across the grounds, as if

  earthquakes were regular visitors. All of which told a compelling story of war – a

  contrast between a natural world which was once conquered by man and a world that

  was taken away and turned to this – a dark, depressing, lifeless graveyard.

  ‘Well according to this... it should be just around this corner.’ Mary said, holding the

  map carefully. Nicole double checked and agreed. Nicole’s excitement began diluting

  as a surge of nerves electrified her body. And now that she was finally going to reach

  the destination that she has been longing for, a destination she has been dreaming

  about, she had the sudden urge to run as fast as her thin legs to carry her in the

  opposite direction.

  ‘Over there!’ Thomas pointed to a grey building; it was wide and stood tall. But just

  like everything else, it seemed lifeless – long cracks crawled up its giant walls and the

  top right side of it looked like something had bitten a chunk out of it.

  They tore through the doorway of webs and entered the great library. The dark

  wooden floor echoed as their footsteps banged along the reception area. Thick layers

  of dust veiled the pictures on the walls. And the ceiling was so tall that you would

  need a huge ladder to change the light bulb. The main part of the library was a city of

  bookshelves that stood like sky-scrapers, with book-upon-book in suffocating crowds.

  ‘What now?’ Ryan asked, blowing dust of one of the books on the shelf closest to

  him.

  ‘I... don’t have the foggiest.’ Nicole replied.

  ‘Maybe they have a record book or something?’ Mary said, coughing with the floating

  particles of dust and cringing with sight of all the webs.

  ‘You’re kidding right?’ Arthur said shaking his head.

  ‘I kid you not.’ Nicole replied.

  ‘You honestly think that you can squeeze everyone who ever lived into a book!’

  Arthur laughed, but looked annoyed.

  ‘Maybe not in a book...’ Marcus said as he walked up to a table with a computer, very

  similar to the one he saw in Richard’s secret hideout. ‘He wiped the screen and shook

  the keyboard, then covered his mouth as a cloud rapidly formed.

  He hit the power button, confidently, as if he knew exactly what he was doing, which

  couldn’t be further truth. Nothing happened. He stared at it, wondering how on earth

  it worked and then it hit him like cold water being splashed on his face, ‘XJ2... do you

  know how to turn this thing on?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Ok... can you tell us or show us?’

  ‘Press the power button...’

  ‘O you’re a great help. Just great! Smarty.’

  ‘Computers, generally have a safety switch at the back.’

  Marcus reached his arm behind the computer and rummaged for a switch. Once he

  was satisfied that he had pressed everything he could find, he removed his hand and

  stared at the front of the computer. He jumped forward and quickly pressed the power

  button and jumped back. After a few silent moments, the computer roared, making

  ev
eryone skip a heartbeat. Bright blue lights flared, and like ferocious azure flames,

  they lit the room. The visible fans inside, like turbines on an aircraft, began building

  momentum and spinning at great speed. A powerful gush of dust blew out of the

  computer’s meshed cover, casting mellow fog that hovered silently in the air.

  The screen lit up and displayed the DT symbol, then flickered a few times and

  eventually became idle with icons and text printed on the screen. A larger and slightly

  more creative version of the DT symbol was pasted across the screen like wallpaper –

  this one had the combination of white, red and black as opposed to just black and

  white; the images in white the DT letter in red and the background was a cold black.

  ‘What now?’ Marcus asked.

  ‘This isn’t really my forte; you’re on your own!’ Arthur replied, looking lost.

  ‘I...’ Thomas mumbled and everyone was in shock. What could he possibly know

  about other than food? Ryan thought.

  ‘Yes... go on...’ Arthur said eagerly.

  ‘I... I need to pee!’ Thomas said crossing his legs and red in the face. Everyone rolled

  their eyes and Ryan gently kicked him on the backside and said, ‘just find somewhere

  down there, you idiot!’ Thomas ran off.

  But they were stuck with this computer, knowing it was working but not knowing

  how to use it.

  ‘XJ2... how do we use this thing?’ Marcus asked, now pulling a chair with wheels and

  sitting in front of the computer.

  ‘Use the optical device to navigate and the keyboard to type instructions.’

  Soon as Marcus touched the optical mouse, he jumped as if lightning ran through his

  body, striking each nerve until it reached his brain. And the strange symbols and

  visions began again; they flew around his mind like birds scattering from a loud

  gunshot. Not this again, he thought. This time, however, he closed his eyes and began

  concentrating on what was happening instead of fearing it. He took deep breaths and,

  miraculously, everything began to slow down and he started filing things in cabinets

  within his mind. He began taking control of the episode and what was more, he began

  have clear flash backs. There were two women and three men pushing him along in a

  wheel chair along an extensive and well-lit corridor. The long and overwhelmingly

  bright lights running across the ceiling were forcing Marcus to close his eyes. The

  loud tapping of the men and women’s shoes on the hard and polished floor was

  echoing a melody. A women with tightly-tied, dark-blonde hair crouched and held his

  hand, ‘it will be fine – you are a brave and amazing little boy.’ She smiled and her

  eyes glared over her stylish, black framed glasses. Although dressed smartly, she was

  the only one out of them that was not wearing a long, white lab-coat.

  Everything went blank for a second and then he found himself lying in a cold room,

  dressed in nothing apart from an overall – one that you would wear in a hospital. But

  apart from being freezing cold, there didn’t seem to be anything wrong. One of the

  men who had dark receding hair and a dark moustache, which looked like a caterpillar

  above his lips, began checking his pulse and without a word, he nodded to the other

  people dotted in the room.