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starting. he was such a brute that many of the lads in the years above kept out of his way. ryan tried to back up, but found his retreat blocked by a couple of harry's cronies.
'oi, butler. going somewhere?' shouted harry.
ryan was propelled forward, leaving only a few feet between them.
'got a date with miss ward?' harry sneered.
'not until later,' replied ryan, figuring he had nothing to lose in making a joke out of it.
'you're funny, butler,' said harry, grabbing ryan's shirt and manhandling him so that his back was against a wall. 'you've cost us our phones.'
'hey, _i_ didn't ban them,' said ryan, holding his hands up. 'miss mulligan's the one you want to talk to about that.'
his response was met with a swift punch to the stomach. ryan doubled up, coughing and spluttering, but harry hauled him back |
to his feet.
'you'd better make this right you little maggot,' he snarled. 'if we're not allowed our phones in class by monday you're in big trouble.'
he released ryan and made to leave, but then turned back and landed a second punch in ryan's abdomen. he spat on ryan's back and left him lying on the ground. his two accomplices stepped on ryan as they followed him out of the alleyway.
ryan lay there until they had rounded the corner. despite his fearsome reputation, harry hopkins didn't really hit that hard. it was his mates who needed to be avoided. ryan had learned that the best thing to do was to play up to it when harry hit him, as it meant the beatings were kept to a minimum. he got to his feet and dusted himself off. one of the buttons on his shirt had refused to give in and torn a hole in the fabric. |
ryan cursed at the thought of what his mum would say when she saw it. still, she'd already confiscated the leads to all his favourite things or so she thought so there wasn't much worse she could do.
he did his best to wipe the spit off his back and then went to find jack.
he located his friend sitting on the same picnic bench they had occupied the previous lunchtime. gibbo was there too, as well as several other lads from their year group.
'where'd you get to?' asked gibbo as he made space for ryan to sit down.
'me? you were the one who buggered off with stephanie mcmahon.'
'and? you would too if you got the chance.'
'you do know she's been out with half the year above us?' jack pointed out.
'no she ain't. she's been with two of them, max.'
'well, if you consider that one of them was harry hopkins, |
you want to watch your back.'
'oh don't worry about him,' put in ryan. 'he's got far more important things on his plate.'
'ah, so that's where you were,' grinned jack, noticing the tear in ryan's shirt. 'needed some company did he? you two had a bit of a kiss and a cuddle while nobody was watching?'
'sod off. his mates were there too.'
'euuurgh, sick!' cried gibbo.
'shut it you morons. anyway, he'll be after you next if you keep trying it on with steph.'
'i ain't trying it on. she's the one who fancies me. i'm having to fend her off with a sharp stick.'
gibbo mimed a parry and thrust.
'that is the most pathetically untrue thing i've heard in a long while,' said jack, unwrapping his neatly packed sandwiches and taking a bite out of one.
'what you got today?' asked gibbo.
'cheese and jam,' replied jack |
with a wink.
'that's nasty,' said ryan, taking out the sandwiches he had bought from the canteen during break. 'why don't you eat some proper food?'
'and spend three quid on some stale bread and brown lettuce? no thanks. i'll stick with making my own.'
'where's your usual pasty?' asked gibbo, noticing the unusually large quantity of green stuff in ryan's lunch.
'dad's coming home,' said ryan simply. 'mum says i need to get in shape.'
'ha! it'll take more than that,' laughed gibbo.
'that's funny coming from you. at least i'm in the footy squad.'
'mr brackley won't pick me because i'm too good,' said gibbo. 'it would be unfair.'
ryan and jack looked at one another and shook their heads.
'gib, you are such a tool,' said jack gravely. he turned to ryan. 'so what did the big double h want with you?'
'guess,' |
said ryan, fishing a piece of cress out from between his teeth and looking at it distastefully.
'something to do with the mobile amnesty, perchance?'
'got it in one. and what does 'perchance' mean, you tart?'
'must be one of them big poncy words they teach them in top set english,' grinned gibbo.
'well, it's clear for all to see why you're stuck in the doldrums,' returned jack.
'haha! doldrums! careful mate, you'll use them all up!'
'yeah, you'd better save them for when sophie comes back,' added ryan. 'you're gonna need them.'
'hey, i'm not sure how impressed she'll be when you show her you can tie your own shoe laces. i think i'm safe.'
'you two still aren't chasing that lost cause are you?' put in gibbo. 'it's obvious she's frigid.'
ryan threw jack a quick glance and together they shoved gibbo off |
the side of the picnic bench. he landed on a satsuma that one of the other boys had discarded, which burst and covered the side of his trousers in juice.
the peals of laughter that followed could be heard all the way across to the other side of the playing fields.
ryan headed into his final lessons of the week in a much better mood than earlier that day. friday afternoons were always taken up with double design and technology, which was basically an excuse for the boys to mess around in the workshop for an hour and a half. it was an improvement on the previous term, when they had been split between working with textiles and cooking in the kitchen. ryan and his friends heartily agreed that these were girls' subjects and should be kept that way.
now they were in their element, or at least they would have been |
had restrictions on the use of the machinery not limited them to a selection of relatively harmless hand tools. still, they had an enjoyable time creating bookends out of blocks of wood. ryan didn't actually own enough books to warrant a bookend, but he was grateful of the opportunity to be doing something practical for a change. he had fun gluing gibbo's workpiece to the bench while his friend wasn't looking, while at the same time shaping his own to look like it had a ninja star embedded in it. in fact, he was having such a good time that when the bell went for the end of the day and he realised that he still had a detention to serve, it was quite a come-down.
'i can't believe dazza's getting away with this,' he complained, as jack and gibbo escorted him to a classroom near the headteacher's office; detentions |
were always held in the same place.
'he's not getting away with anything,' said jack. 'he's just postponing the inevitable.'
'yeah, but it would be much better if i had him for company rather than being stuck with a bunch of losers from the other years. where is he anyway gibbo? you're his best mate. what's he playing at?'
'dunno mate. if i had my phone on me i'd tell you. we've still got to pick them up before we go. i'll text you later and let you know if you like.'
'cheers. i'll probably send him some abuse later myself. are you guys up to much tomorrow?'
'nope,' said jack.
gibbo shook his head.
'how about hitting the afternoon session up at the park followed by some games at yours, butler?' suggested jack.
'no chance,' replied ryan. 'i'm grounded. plus, my mum's nicked the leads to all my stuff, so |
there's nothing to do at my place.'
'except stare at your mum,' grinned gibbo.
'yeah i'd happily pop over for some of that,' agreed jack.
'you two can get lost,' said ryan, pushing them both away. 'i'd rather go to detention than listen to another of your mum jokes.'
'off you go then,' said jack. 'we'll find a way to catch up tomorrow.'
'later,' said ryan, and he headed into the classroom.
forty-five minutes of writing lines later, ryan had his phone back and was on his way home. lines! what a ridiculous way to spend his detention! if miss mulligan wanted to have 'i must show respect to women' written a few hundred times she could have given him a laptop and he would have copied and pasted it as many times as she wanted. apparently it was supposed to teach him something, but the only thing ryan had learned |
was that he hated his teachers even more than he previously thought.
he had only just cleared the main gate and started up the road when, from seemingly out of nowhere, daisy appeared.
'am i dreaming?' asked ryan ruefully.
'what do you mean?' she asked, confused.
'you have a habit of popping up unexpectedly in my dreams,' replied ryan.
'well, i hope that's a good thing. it would be sad if you didn't want me around outside of school as well.'
ryan's mind flitted guiltily back to earlier in the week when he really hadn't wanted her around.
'actually i'd be glad of the company,' he said truthfully. 'have you been waiting for me all this time?'
'yeah. but i knew you were going to be a little while, so i went for a walk in the fields. how was your detention?'
'you knew about that?'
'of course. everyone knows |
about it. i do have other friends, ryan.'
'so you've seen the photo then?'
'oh yes, it was very funny.'
'you weren't disgusted?'
'no, not at all. that's what boys do, isn't it?'
ryan laughed.
'yes, i guess it is.'
'did you see sophie or billy today?'
'no, i was just wondering what happened to them.'
'everyone was saying that they were ill. i told them they were just starving hungry and in need of a good feed; just like i was this morning.'
ryan frowned.
'you said that? what did people say?'
'they looked at me a little strangely, that's all.'
_i wonder why?_ ryan thought.
'so, are you going to try and find out more about the academy?' asked daisy suddenly, when they had walked on for a while longer.
'i haven't really thought about it.'
'well, i was thinking that if you were going to have a look |
on the computer then maybe i could help you?'
ryan was taken aback. daisy hadn't been into his bedroom since their primary school days. it would be weird having a girl in there now.
'you know, i'm not sure that's such a good idea. my mum didn't react quite as well as you did to that photo. she's taken away all the wires to my electrical stuff so i can't use any of it, although i did find where she was hiding them and nicked back the ones for my computer.'
'so it _is_ working then? great!'
'well, yes. but i can't let mum know it's working or there'll be double the grief for me. i don't really want to use it unless i absolutely have to.'
in fact, the first thing ryan planned to do when he got in was fire up his pc and play through a few levels of his latest shooter. the idea of daisy coming over and entering |
his fortress of boy-dom set a precedent that he wasn't entirely comfortable with. but he was fighting a losing battle.
'it will be fine. i'm sure your mum isn't that mad with you. she's lovely. anyway, she's probably round at my house already. i think she's a little lonely at the moment. go on, you promised to show me some of those game things that you play.'
'all right, all right. but only if mum's out. i'm not risking it if she's lurking around.'
'great! i'll pop home and check with daddy and see if she's there.'
as it turned out, they caught ryan's mum heading round to the roses' house as they reached the front gate. at first she only saw ryan and looked like she was about to tear a strip off him, but then she caught sight of daisy and her demeanour swiftly changed.
'hello you two!' she smiled cheerily, |
hurriedly concealing the bottle of wine she was carrying.
'hello mrs butler,' replied daisy, with an even bigger smile. 'how are you today?'
'oh i'm just fine darling. i was just popping round to see your father.'
_for more than a few minutes, by the look of things_ , thought ryan.
'mrs butler, is it okay if i pop home with ryan and help him with some homework? actually we're both struggling with this one assignment and were hoping to knock our heads together to see if we can come up with a solution.'
'of course, my dear. that will be fine,' she replied, trying a little too hard to appear charming. 'ryan's in need of someone to keep him on the straight and narrow and i couldn't think of anyone better. there's food in the freezer and cold drinks in the fridge. have fun!'
and with that, she went through the |
roses' gate and made her way up their drive. ryan and daisy watched her go.
'that was easy,' smiled daisy. 'i told you she'd be fine about it.'
'did you just lie to my mum?' asked ryan, a mild look of disbelief on his face.
'yes. well, maybe. actually, no, not really. we're going to find out more about the academy, which is like doing homework, except it's just not for school.'
'ah, i like your thinking. i've just never heard you fib before.'
'well, i try not to. it's bad, isn't it?'
'dunno, i do it all the time. i tend to get more hassle for stuff that's nothing to do with me.'
'well, i won't tell anyone you stole your wires back. you don't need to get into any more trouble.'
'no. two weeks of detention is quite enough.'
they walked on a few yards further and opened the gate leading to ryan's house.
'did |
you notice the bottle of wine?' asked ryan as they strolled up the driveway.
'yes, she always seems to have a glass in her hand when she's over. one time she definitely appeared to be a bit tipsy.'
'probably why she was so miserable the other morning,' said ryan.
they reached the door and ryan fumbled in his pocket for his house key.
'oh i'm so excited!' said daisy, clapping her hands, almost unable to contain herself. 'it's so long since i've been round here.'
'you came over at christmas,' said ryan.
'that was different; it was a family thing. and besides, you kept to yourself for most of it.'
ryan flushed.
'yeah... err... sorry about that,' he said. 'i don't really like those family get-togethers. they just seem a bit forced.'
'it's okay. i'm just happy to be here now. it's just like old times.'
ryan |
wondered whether she expected him to still have the old cabin bed that they used to make dens under, or whether she would want to play hide and seek with him. when she mentioned 'old times' it gave him the impression that she really was exactly the same girl she had been back then; fun-loving, carefree and eternally happy.
he opened the door and showed her inside.
'oh wow! your parents have been decorating,' daisy exclaimed as she stepped over the threshold.
ryan looked around the hallway in puzzlement.
'err... i don't think so. it's been like this for ages. and they still haven't got round to changing the carpet on the stairs.'
'it's lovely, all of it,' said daisy, peering through the archway that led into the living room. 'i can see why you like spending so much time indoors.'
'what are you talking about? |
your house is just as nice, if not nicer. anyway, i don't spend much time down here. i'm normally in my room.'
'i can't wait to see it!'
'do you want a drink first?'
a few shades of doubt were colouring ryan's thoughts. daisy's enthusiasm was full-on, almost to the point of being insincere. he began to wonder whether it was such a good idea to show her his stronghold of solidarity.
'okay!' she smiled, and he led her through to the kitchen. he poured her a glass of his mum's elderflower cordial and himself a coke.
'you know, i had a dream about this room the other night,' he said, leaning back against the work-top and taking a sip.
'really? what happened?'
'well, it was last night actually, when i first returned to the dream isle. i was alone next to one of the rivers so i began watching all the dreams |
floating past. suddenly i saw an image of the landing upstairs, and before i knew it, i was there. i came down to the kitchen and there was a spider that kept on multiplying into more and more spiders every time i tried to catch it, until the entire room was filled with them. somehow i managed to dream up a web with some bait in the centre and, when they were all in the one place, i caught them and set them free.'
'oh wow!' said daisy. 'so you were dreamweaving again? that's amazing! you really seem to have a talent for it.'
'i don't know about that,' replied ryan, though some of the pride he had felt the previous night was returning.
'i can't wait to go to bed and find out what happens next,' said daisy excitedly. 'but first we should find out more about the academy.'
ryan knew that he couldn't delay things |
any longer, so he led her upstairs and into his sanctum.
'it's... it's so different,' daisy gasped as she caught sight of the posters on the wall, the large tv and the computer in the corner. it really was a new room to her. the model aircraft that used to hang from the ceiling were gone, as were the steam engine curtains. it was still resoundingly boyish, but it had just progressed on a few years. ryan couldn't tell whether daisy was impressed, disappointed, or a mixture of the two. it was certainly a few minutes before she managed to digest it all. eventually she perched herself on the edge of the bed while ryan fumbled behind the computer to plug all the wires in.
'that should be it,' he declared, taking up his usual position in his command chair. he switched the computer on. lights flashed and fans whirred |
softly as the machine sprang into life. a soft, red glow emanated from somewhere deep within.
'wow,' cooed daisy. 'was it expensive?'
'my parents got it for me for christmas. they said it was to help with my studies, so that's why i've got a printer and scanner and everything. they don't know much about computers though, so i just told them what i needed and they got it for me.'
'so have you done much school work on it?'
'as if! that's the last thing i'd want to use this for. besides, there are too many distractions. as soon as i fire it up there are so many games just begging to be played.'
'you really like your games, don't you?'
'yeah, i love them. they keep my mind and my reactions razor sharp. a bit like a ninja's really.'
'oh ryan!' exclaimed daisy, suddenly bursting into a fit of giggles.
the desktop |
had just loaded up and ryan had completely forgotten that, in a moment of stout defiance, he had saved the picture of miss ward as his background. his face went scarlet.
'yes, well, i guess one of the boys must have done that the other night when they were round,' he blustered, trying to open any application he could to conceal the image.
'how very naughty of them,' said daisy.
ryan didn't think that she did sarcasm, but the tone of the comment sounded an awful lot like it.
'what sort of music do you like?' he asked, trying to change tack as quickly as possible.
'oh all sorts. bach, mendelssohn, vivaldi; anything with a good melody and a bit of drama.'
'right,' said ryan slowly, looking at her as if she was from another planet. 'anything from this century?'
'well, there are some good modern composers out |
there, but i'm more into the classics right now.'
'no, no, i mean, anything that's in the charts at the moment?'
'oh right. well, my parents don't really listen to popular music, so i don't know. classical is pretty much all i've ever heard.'
ryan gawped at her.
'seriously? you've never...? you're in for a treat then.'
he flicked on his speakers and began playing her some of his favourite hip-hop tunes. daisy appeared to enjoy them, although it was difficult to tell whether it was genuine, or if she was just humouring him. it was a far cry from her musical comfort zone. nevertheless, she sat perched on the edge of the bed, merrily tapping her feet as ryan opened up a web browser and they began their search.
'right, here we are,' he said, his fingers poised over the keys, ready to show off his masterful |
typing skills. 'what should i search for?'
'the dream academy!' said daisy, clapping her hands in excitement.
a moment later a list of results were displayed on-screen.
'hmm...' said ryan, scrolling through them for any sign of what they were looking for. 'doesn't look like there's much here. some old band that my dad probably likes and some stuff about making your dreams come true, but i don't think that's it.'
he flicked up a couple of websites that offered tenuous links to what they were after. but, unsurprisingly, they were completely unconnected.
'nope, nothing here.'
'oh,' said daisy, looking crestfallen. 'so there's nothing there at all.'
'on the whole internet? no, there's got to be something. it's just a case of putting in the right combination of words to get what we're after. if it's here, we'll |
find it.'
'what should we look for then?'
'let's try 'dreamweaving',' replied ryan, his fingers whirring into action.
up popped a list of sites, the majority of which appeared to deal with organising weddings and the like. again, ryan flicked through them and opened a couple up for good measure, but to no avail.
'bugger,' he said, sitting back in his chair and frowning at the screen.
'try 'dreamweavers',' suggested daisy.
ryan reached for his keyboard with one hand and deleted _i.n.g._ from the previous search, and added _e.r.s._ he pressed _enter._
'nothing,' he said grumpily, flicking up and down the list. 'same crap as before.'
'wait a minute; you're moving it too fast. it's hurting my eyes.'
ryan looked over his shoulder and was somewhat alarmed to find daisy's face less than a foot from his. she |
was sitting forwards with her chin in her hands, staring intently at the screen. ryan had never seen her blue eyes looking so big. he could almost read the name of the search engine reflected in her pupils. he hoped she would blink at some point soon to prevent her eyeballs from popping out.
'could you go through them more slowly please?' asked daisy, her gaze remaining fixed on the screen.
'sure,' nodded ryan, turning back to the pc and taking hold of the mouse.
'web design, weddings, web design,' murmured daisy as the descriptions scrolled past. 'is that it?' she asked when ryan had reached the bottom of the page.
'no, there are all these pages yet.'
'keep going then.'
ryan opened the next and resumed scrolling.
'holidays, weddings, weddings, charities... keep going.'
ryan opened another.
'... web |
design, holidays, wed... hang on, what's that?'
ryan's eyes, which had started to wander from the screen, snapped back and tried to locate what she was looking at. it took him a couple of moments. sandwiched between yet another pair of wedding sites was another, whose tag line read; 'imagination is the only limit...'
'a bit cryptic, but it could be the one,' said daisy, her eyes alive with anticipation.
'shall i?' asked ryan, his attention fully captured once more.
'do it,' said daisy, almost under her breath. 'please,' she added a moment later.
ryan smiled to himself as his hovering finger descended on the mouse button. he pressed down on the plastic moulding and there was a small amount of give before the micro-switch gave a resounding _click!_ the entire screen went white.
'what happened?' asked daisy.
'dunno. |
it just went blank.'
'did you click on it?'
'yeah. everything's gone. everything. even the browser.'
'perhaps it's broken?'
'the screen wouldn't go white. it would go black, or blue if it was really serious. anyway, the power light is on and it looks like the hard disk is happy.'
'how can you tell that it's happy? it's just a computer.'
'i mean, it looks like it is working okay, okay?'
daisy smiled.
'i'm just joking, ryan.'
ryan mentally slapped himself. of course she was joking! he would have taken it as a joke if anyone else had said it. why was he so convinced that daisy was anything but normal? she'd been his friend for years!
'i'm sorry,' he mumbled.
'what for?'
'i don't... err... i just am. sorry.'
daisy looked at him with her head tilted slightly to one side and smiled.
'you're weird,' she |
said. 'oh look!' she added, glancing back at the screen. 'something's happening.'
she was right. in exactly the same way that it had done in ryan's mind when he had fallen asleep the night before, the outline of a mountain was sketching itself across the white screen.
'oh my gosh, this is what happens when i go to sleep!' daisy exclaimed.
'ditto,' said ryan, watching, enthralled, as the dream isle slowly painted itself into existence. 'this must be some animation they use as an introduction to the site.'
as it turned out, the entire website was something of a marvel. it was operated through an interactive interface that required the user to click around the landscape to access different areas.
'i've never seen anything quite like this,' ryan murmured as he got to grips with the navigation controls. 'i mean, |
it seems to have a standard site layout underneath it all, but this interface is something else.'
'it's pretty,' said daisy as ryan brought the view-point swooping in towards the spire.
'yeah. it's like in the movies where they make all the computers do really simple stuff in a fancy way just to fool dumb people into thinking there's something complicated going on.'
'well, there is, isn't there?'
'not really. not in this part, at least.'
'well, i like it. it makes more sense to me than all those indistinguishable pictures you normally have to click on.'
'right, so now we're here what do you want to do? actually, before you answer that, let's take a good look at the spire. we've only seen it from ground level.'
he dragged the view round so they were peering into the observation ring near the top.
'looks |
like there's more going on there than just people staring out of the window,' he said, marvelling at the amount of detail present and feeling a little surprised that both his computer and his internet connection could handle it.
'what do you mean?' asked daisy.
'look at that bank of screens on the far wall and all the consoles in front of them. i guess they must monitor what's happening on the island from up here. that's a bit creepy.'
'where do those stairs go?' asked daisy, noticing a small flight between two of the consoles, leading up to the ceiling.
ryan shifted the viewpoint.
'roof access?' he suggested. they could make out the faint outline of a hatch on the top of the observation ring.
'so tristram can take the short route down,' smiled daisy.
'maybe...'
ryan spun the image round so they were |
looking at the island in plan view.
'it looks a lot smaller from up here,' he grinned.
'what's that?' asked daisy, pointing at a thick, dark line leading away from one side of the spire all the way to the sea.
ryan zoomed back in. from one side of the spire a deep gorge plunged, carving a deep, twisting scar through the landscape.
'i haven't seen that before,' he said.
'neither have i,' said daisy. 'but i've only seen a small part of the island, so i'm not surprised.'
'do you think it means anything?' asked ryan.
'i've no idea. maybe we could ask tristram about it tonight. anyway, we're here to find out more about the academy. how do you get to that information?'
ryan turned his attention back to the spire.
'each side of the tower or outer wall is a link,' he said knowledgably. 'look, this one's _home_ |
, this one's _news_ and this one's _about_.'
'click that one!' said daisy gleefully.
ryan did so.
immediately all the colour drained from the image and a message appeared in the centre of the screen. it read: please enter your login details. it was followed by:
avatar ..............
d.o.a. ..................
password ..........
'oh,' said ryan, staring at the words and feeling rather annoyed.
'what does d.o.a. mean?' asked daisy.
'dead on arrival.'
'that doesn't seem to be in the right context.'
'dunno then.'
'how about trying one of the other links?' suggested daisy.
ryan pressed _escape_ and colour flooded back into the image. he clicked on the 'home' octant, but the same thing happened.
'great,' he said. 'fat lot of use this is. all we can do is sit here and spin the pretty picture around.'
he |
moved his hand sharply, causing the island to spin rapidly in and out of view.
'stop it!' cried daisy, turning away and holding her stomach. 'that makes me feel sick.'
'sorry,' said ryan, returning the view to normal. 'what do you want to do then?'
'well, we know what to ask tristram when we next see him,' said daisy. 'if we can't go any further then maybe you could show me some of your games instead?'
'i thought you'd never ask,' grinned ryan.
he clicked around the screen, trying to find a way of exiting. he then tried a few keyboard combinations that normally did the trick.
'bugger,' he said as they all failed. 'time for a reboot.'
'hang on,' said daisy. 'how do you get off the dream isle normally?'
'you just wake up,' ryan replied.
'or?'
ryan frowned, trying to work out what she was getting at.
'you |
enter a dream?' he suggested.
'exactly!' declared daisy.
ryan looked at her, puzzled.
'so...' she prompted.
ryan fingered the wheel on his mouse for a moment before finally cottoning on to what she was getting at. he zoomed in towards one of the rivers and clicked on its gently rippling waters. immediately the landscape disappeared and was replaced with the picture of miss ward. the two of them burst out laughing at the sight of it.
'i knew you'd get it,' giggled daisy.
'well done you for thinking of it,' replied ryan, giving her a high-five. 'i would have just turned it off and turned it on again.'
daisy shook her head. 'that picture is so funny.'
'i'm glad _you_ think so. my mum would kill me if she found it on here.'
'it's just your expression. i bet you can't remember a word of what she was saying.'
'i |
wouldn't be able to no matter who was trying to tell it to me. i find school stuff so boring.'
'so you don't enjoy challenging yourself to learn new things and expand your mind?'
'no, not really. i prefer to challenge myself in other ways.'
he began loading up his favourite second world war shooter.
'besides,' he added. 'you spend most of your time staring out of the windows in class, or so i hear.'
'that's what jack thomas says, is it?'
'yup.'
'i suppose i do daydream a lot, but i still get my work done at the end of the day.'
'doesn't it annoy your teachers; you not paying attention?'
'not as much as if i stared at their breasts, i imagine,' smiled daisy.
ryan's jaw dropped. he had never heard daisy come out with such a comment before.
'what?' she asked, upon seeing the look of astonishment on his |
face.
'i... well, nothing actually. i just didn't expect you to come out with a response like that.'
daisy smiled warmly. 'i'm really not a nutter ryan. i'm just like anyone else.'
_no you're not_ , he thought. _you're more sound than anyone at school. if only they knew._
'it was pretty sharp,' he said out loud. 'here, check this out. i know how much you like the outdoors.'
he nodded at the screen, where a first person perspective showed a pair of legs rapidly descending towards an expanse of lush countryside, dotted with tiny villages.
'what's this?' asked daisy.
'france, 1944. this is how i get out and see the world.'
'okay, show me what it's all about then.'
daisy was leaning forwards, staring at the screen again. ryan could sense her close by. he almost expected to feel her breath on his neck. he |
wasn't quite sure what he'd do if he did. the mere thought of it sent a tingling sensation rippling through his body.
he blinked hard and tried to concentrate as his character neared the ground. already the sounds of battle were being fed to them through his speakers, despite them being turned right down in case his mum suddenly returned home. the crack of gunfire, the screams of the wounded and the distant roar of artillery resounded on all sides as ryan landed in the midst of a desperate fire-fight. immediately he was set upon by unfriendlies and went scurrying for cover, while sending off a burst of fire in their direction. he quickly found a hollow to duck into, making himself virtually invisible while he assessed his options. flicking through his inventory, he pulled out a rifle and then slowly peered over |
the edge of the dip.
he caught sight of a couple of enemy soldiers who were advancing on his position from the direction he had come. without a second thought, he took the nearest man's head clean off his shoulders with a well-placed shot. this caused daisy to squeal so loudly that ryan jumped and his second shot caught the soldier's accomplice in the leg, leaving him writhing around on the floor in agony.
ryan moved the little finger of his left hand ever so slightly and hit the _escape_ key.
'what's up?' he asked, slightly annoyed. he prided himself in his ability to pull off one-shot kills on demand.
'it's horrible!' daisy cried.
'of course it is. it's war!'
'but why would you want to re-enact something so barbaric?'
'err... because it's fun?'
'fun? you just killed someone!'
'dizz, it's a computer |
program. i can load it up again and that same guy will have miraculously come back to life. it's no big deal.'
'but it's horrible,' protested daisy.
'look, there's no point simulating a gentle stroll in the woods, is there? what fun would there be in that? you need to have some action or strategy; something to make you think and to make it enjoyable. listen, i've played this level before. there's a village not far away that i need to liberate, once i've found some of my own men. if you're still not happy when i get there then we'll try something else.'
daisy nodded uncertainly. however, she was no longer falling off the edge of the bed with excitement.
before ryan continued, he accessed one of the menus and turned the parental controls on to minimise the amount of blood and gore on the screen. it seemed to |
do the trick. as he made his way through the level, his unerring knack for head-shots making his progress swift, daisy settled down and began to get quite into it. so much so, in fact, that she began giving ryan warnings whenever she glimpsed a foe hiding in one of the ruined buildings. while this would have usually annoyed him, ryan took it as a sign that he was starting to bring her over to the dark side.
finally, having secured the village just in time for reinforcements to arrive, he sat back and grinned at daisy.
'fancy a go?' he asked.
'oh no, i couldn't possibly. it looks far too complicated.'
'nah, it's easy. i'll fire up one of the training missions for you.'
'okay then, yes. i've never used a gun though, ryan.'
'neither have i. there's nothing to it, trust me.'
a few moments later daisy was standing |
in front of a grim-faced drill sergeant, who was barking orders at her in an hilarious cockney accent. thankfully the parental controls were preventing her from being exposed to some of the language that ryan had been subject to when he had played through the training levels.
daisy was now in the command chair with ryan on a beanbag next to her. she was sat so far forward that her face was barely a foot away from the screen, and her brow was furrowed in concentration as she fought to get to grips with the controls.
'it doesn't make any sense,' she cried as she ran round in circles looking at the ground, while the sergeant reminded her of what a disgrace she was. 'i'm either facing straight up of straight down.'
'use the mouse to set it level then,' said ryan, amused at how quickly the game had engrossed her.
'how? |
it all feels wrong. it's like down is up and up is down.'
'oh you're not one of them are you?'
'one of what?'
ryan nearly said 'freak', but was glad his mind intervened in time. he reached over, took the mouse from her and changed one of the settings that really did make up, down, and down, up.
'ah, that's so much better!' said daisy, plunging straight into the assault course with great aplomb. then she was on to target practice, which seemed to bring out a certain amount of ambivalence in her. on the one hand, she appeared to be put off by the mannequins that she was told to shoot at. on the other, when it came to actually firing the gun, her skill level was pretty high for a first-timer. before long, she had made it through the training stages and the drill sergeant had grudgingly declared her, in his best |
'apples and pears' voice, fit for duty.
'that _was_ fun,' daisy smiled, sitting back and feeling satisfied with her efforts.
'told you so,' said ryan. 'and if you enjoyed that, just wait until you get stuck into a real fight.'
'oh no! i couldn't possibly. that's quite enough for me. really ryan, that's all i can handle for the moment. it is great, but it does make me feel a bit giddy after a while.'
'okay, so what do you want to do then?'
'actually, i'm excited to meet up with tristram again and find out more about the academy.'
'what, now? dizz, it's not even eight o'clock yet. you can't go to bed. we haven't even had dinner.'
a week ago the idea of ryan actively encouraging daisy to stay round his house a little longer would have sounded ludicrous.
'i know, but i just can't wait to get back there. aren't |
you excited about it too?'
'yeah, but i'm not going to bed at stupid o'clock for it. seriously, if you really do want to go to bed, we at least ought to have something to eat first. remember how you felt this morning?'
'yes, i suppose you're right. what do you have?'
'let's go and have a look,' said ryan, getting up and showing her the door. 'mum's not done any proper cooking for a while now. she's been buying a lot of ready meals and leaving them in the oven for me to heat up. dad's back soon though, so she'll probably get something decent in before long. not that it bothers me. as long as there's meat, i'm happy. oh, but she _has_ been making me get these crappy salad sandwiches for my lunch. something about eating healthily.'
'don't you like them?' asked daisy as they arrived in the kitchen and turned |
on the lights.
'nah, they are so boring and tasteless.'
'i love salad,' said daisy. 'i like it that there's stuff you can eat just growing out there in the countryside. wouldn't it be great to just live off the land? you know; just eating what you can grow or forage for?'
'or kill,' added ryan. 'so long as there was meat on the menu, i'd be fine. give me a hunk of cow or pig over a pile of leaves any day.'
daisy laughed.
'well, if that would make you happy, then fine. we'll have to set up our own little farm somewhere. i'll tend the vegetable patches while you go out hunting.'
this suggestion caught ryan off guard. whether it was just a throwaway comment or betrayed some of the inner workings of daisy's mind, it did not matter. the mere thought of it was enough to scare him back onto the defensive.
'i |
don't think so,' he said resolutely. 'i like being able to come to the fridge and have what i want right there. i couldn't deal with spending all my time hunting and preparing food. i couldn't live without crisps and chocolate either.'
'relax ryan, i'm joking,' said daisy.
_are you?_ he thought. he was glad she couldn't see the look on his face as he rummaged around in the freezer.
conversation was scarce while they cooked and ate dinner, at least on ryan's part. much of the magic from earlier in the evening had been lost, and he was back to thinking of daisy in much the same way as he had done before the week started. he regretted asking her if she wanted something to eat, since all he wanted now was to return to his fortress alone and feel in control of things again. for her part, daisy kept the situation |
from becoming really awkward by talking away about nothing in particular, only requiring the odd cursory grunt of acknowledgement from ryan in return.
time wore on and they cleared their plates. soon afterwards daisy left, but not before she had reminded ryan that he owed her a walk in the countryside in return for playing the games. he hastily agreed, purely to get her out of the house and with no real intention of going through with it.
as he shut the door behind her a wave of relief broke over him. that had been a close one. he didn't know what to make of some of the comments daisy had come out with. on the one hand, she had shown a jovial side to her personality that he had not known existed, while on the other, her reputation as a weirdo had been all but confirmed. it was hard to know what to think, but |
thankfully she was gone and thinking was the last thing he intended to do. he headed back to his room, where the computer was still whirring away quietly in the corner, and settled down to watch some films.
12
it was about half past midnight, and the second movie had almost reached its conclusion, when ryan heard the front door slam shut. he had been slightly on edge; trying to make sure he didn't fall asleep with the computer on in case his mum came home and busted him. it was a dangerous game to play, and had it not been for the violence of the noise ryan may well have drifted off into a light doze before too long.
now wide awake, he quickly shut the pc down and hid the cables, while a series of bangs and crashes filtered up from downstairs. for a moment he thought that the house was being burgled poorly, |
he noted but then he remembered the bottle of wine his mum had been carrying and concluded that she'd probably had it all to herself. with everything safely out of sight, he crept out of his room to see what she was up to.
the landing was dimly lit by the glow of the downstairs lights; at least his mum had managed to find the switch. ryan trod quietly as he made his way to the top of the stairs. he could have just blundered his way down there and demanded to know what all the noise was, but it would have been uncharacteristic and he was curious about what he might witness if she didn't know he was watching. besides, it gave him the opportunity to practice his commando skills.
crouching down and peering carefully round the corner, he surveyed the terrain. the immediate vicinity was clear. there were no hazards |
in sight and no sign of the target. he shifted his vision to the middle distance.
_warning! disturbance detected_ , went a voice in his head.
his eyes locked onto a few shards of broken glass gleaming on the floor. scanning them thoroughly from his vantage point, he detected a few traces of blood on and around them. he looked for the source of the glass, which turned out to be the family portrait in the hallway, which was shattered in the middle and also streaked with blood.
medic! i need a medic over here!
it was clear that his mum was in quite a state, and from the noises he could now hear coming from the kitchen she was attempting to fix herself something to eat. given how much of a meal she had made of turning the lights on, ryan did not like the idea of her using knives or electrical devices. he stealthily |
made his way down the stairs fourteen, definitely fourteen. just as he reached the bottom the air was rent by an almighty crash, followed by a string of expletives, some of which even ryan struggled to recognise. the time for playing commando was done. the situation was now a lot more serious.
he ran through the dining room and stopped in the open doorway. the kitchen was in even more of a mess than it had been that morning he had raided it. half the cupboards were open and the worktops were strewn with bread, biscuits and crackers; anything his mum had found to nibble on. she was now on her hands and knees with a spoon in one hand, scooping up pieces of cereal from a puddle of milk and smashed porcelain in the middle of the floor. her left hand was bleeding and the blood was mingling with everything else on |
the ground, making what looked like some twisted strawberry milkshake.
'mum, what the hell are you doing?' asked ryan, scarcely able to believe what he was seeing.
'ryan, baby!' she replied, surprised and yet seemingly delighted to see him. 'was just getting summat to eat,' she slurred. 'so hungry.'
she made to scoop up some more cereal, but ryan saw a shard of the broken bowl slip into the spoon.
'mum, stop!' he cried, dashing forward and knocking the spoon out of her hand.
'hey!' she drawled. 'was gonna eat that.'
she really was in a state. her make-up was smeared and the ends of her hair were damp and matted from trailing in the puddle of milk. she also stank of booze. even ryan's friends would have struggled to fancy her at that moment.
'mum, look at this place! it's like a bomb's gone off in here |
or something. how much have you had to drink?'
'well,' she said, wagging her bloody finger at him as she attempted to climb to her feet. 'i had a bit... then i had a bit more... then all of a sudden i'd had a lot. but it's okay. i feel great.'
'you look like crap,' said ryan, moving quickly to support her as she staggered. 'look, let's go and wash your hands. did you know you'd cut yourself?'
'wha...?'
'your hand. look.'
he grabbed it and waved it in front of her face, but then realised immediately that he had made a mistake. his mum had never been that good with the sight of blood. on seeing her hand, what colour remained in her complexion drained away and her whole body lurched violently as a surge of nausea swept through her.
with three quarters of her weight already bearing down on him, ryan man-handled |
her in the direction of the sink, knowing full well what was coming next. a second later he was regretting not having washed up his and daisy's dishes, as his mum threw up heavily into the sink and over the crockery he had left there. unable to retreat in time, ryan found his bare arms and t-shirt peppered with droplets of booze-laden vomit, the smell and sight of which almost caused him to heave too.
'mum that's gross!' he shouted angrily, shutting his eyes and trying to turn away from the spray.
his mother just groaned and coughed, before bringing up a second wave of illness. ryan wished his hands were free to put over his ears, for the sound, more than anything, was repugnant. all he could do was hang on to her and ride it out until she had nothing left.
'it hurts,' his mum wailed, clutching her stomach |
as she continued to dry-retch into the sink. ryan opened one eye and chanced a look at the mess she had made, but he quickly shut it again. while the majority of it had gone into the sink, the plates he'd failed to clean had done a terrific job of dispersing a thin layer of the stuff over everything within reach. it was the most god-awful sight he'd ever laid eyes on.
his mum was now just leaning on the work-top, breathing heavily as the last shreds of her illness faded away. she had nothing left inside save tears of shame and misery.
'i'm so sorry baby!' she wailed. 'i don't mean to be a bad mother. i'm so sorry.'
'hey, it's okay,' said ryan, helping her down onto one of the kitchen chairs.
'no it's not. you deserve better. i love you, you know.'
ryan ignored her and headed into the utility room to fetch |
a bucket.
'a bit late for this, but just in case there's any more,' he said, giving it to her. he then went and fetched some kitchen roll and gently cleaned the mess off her left hand. it was not badly cut, but he put a plaster on it to make sure no more blood found its way into any of the other rooms.
'i love you baby,' she said again as he finished.
'yeah, yeah, look; we need to get you upstairs. can you help me please? i can't carry you.'
'no ryan. you know i love you, don't you?'
'yeah, i know.'
'give us a kiss then.'
she puckered her lips, which were still moist with sick.
'you've got to be kidding me. just get up will you?'
using the table for support, she got to her feet, and with ryan's assistance made her way upstairs to the master bedroom. that was as far as ryan was prepared to go. helping |
his mum undress for bed was beyond the call of duty, but luckily he was saved from making a choice on the matter when she simply flopped down on the bed and went straight to sleep.
satisfied that she was going to be all right, ryan headed back to his room to get his phone. while he had been helping her out, the thought had occurred to him that he had been given the opportunity to negotiate his way out of his punishment. all he needed was the proper leverage, which his mother had kindly provided. it was somewhat ironic that a camera phone would be the source and solution to all his problems.
he went back downstairs and began making a detailed photographic log of the carnage his mum had wrought. he started in the hallway, carefully making sure he got good, clear images of the broken glass on the floor, the shattered |
picture frame and the blood-stained light switch. there were also a few red finger marks on the wall where she had presumably missed several times before finally managing to flick the lights on.
when he was done he moved on to the kitchen, which was a far greater and much less pleasant task. still, he needed all the back-up he could get, therefore every detail, from the smashed bowl of cereal to the vomit-filled sink, was logged. he even took a picture of his t-shirt, which was still damp in places from its disgusting shower. then he crept back upstairs and quietly turned on his computer.
'that ought to do it,' he said quietly to himself, as he browsed through the fruits of his labour. the phone had taken some pretty reasonable images and he was certain that, come the morning, he would have no problem getting |
the rest of his cables returned to him.
he stopped on a picture of the sink which, although it was a grim sight, brought a strange pang of sorrow to him. his mum had known that she had done something bad and she was ashamed of herself. when the morning, or possibly the afternoon, arrived she would go downstairs and be faced with the battleground she had created, then would have to live through it all again. something told ryan that it wasn't right. she wouldn't do it to him. as she had said several times, she loved him, and despite his anger over the punishment she had administered over the miss ward incident, he loved her too. he couldn't let her go through the shame again. he would clean the place up.
with his leverage material safely stored on the computer, he headed back downstairs to make a start. there |
was no longer any point in him tiptoeing around, given his mother was passed out and probably wouldn't wake even if a tornado ripped through the house. ryan fleetingly wondered what she might be dreaming, and which side of the mountain her dream would be flowing down, but his return to the kitchen swiftly focussed his mind on the job at hand.
it had to be said that in all ryan's life he had barely lifted a finger around the house. he would never have called himself spoiled although there were many who would beg to differ but it was just that his mum usually kept the house so spotless that there was never anything to do. she even came in and dusted his room occasionally, and the only task allocated to him was keeping his stuff tidy. which he didn't. after all, he was a boy.
however, despite his inexperience, |
he was blessed with a modicum of common sense which allowed him to figure out where all the detergents lived and what they were for. the labels such as 'kitchen cleaner' and 'floor polish' did give the game away somewhat. as much as he wanted to put off dealing with the sink for as long as possible, he needed it for running water, so he attacked it head-on, scrubbing every surface in the vicinity. from there, he worked his way across the work tops and down the cupboards, until any dirt that remained lay on the floor tiles. then he got out the mop and bucket and finished the job.
he wasn't done there, though. with the kitchen completed, he headed out into the hall and picked all the glass up from the carpet. he removed the picture frame and dumped the broken shards from that into the bin. he also did his best |
with the blood-stains on and around the light switch and was surprised by how well it all came up. when he finally stood back and admired his handiwork, he had an unexpected feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment. it was confirmation that he had done the right thing.
it was close to three o'clock when, at last, he sloped off to bed. he knew he would be late getting to the dream isle, but it didn't matter. for once he'd done something for someone other than himself. and it felt good.
13
at first there was nothing but a pure white sheet spread out in front of him. it was everything and nothing at the same time; his entire world and an empty void. then onto it the outline of a mountain started to be sketched, seemingly in pencil or charcoal. little by little, its features were shaded in, giving it depth and |
form. then came colour, working up from the golden sands, first in pastel shades and then in brilliant watercolour, filling the scene with joyous life. from the ground at ryan's feet to the gleaming tip of the spire, it was an image of true splendour. even the lack of greenery could not detract from its beauty. every time he laid eyes on it, there was more to admire.
ryan stood on the beach and flexed his robotic joints experimentally. he was growing to really like his avatar, especially having seen what some of the other novice dreamweavers had been stuck with. the angular features of his face were instantly recognisable as being him, but, at the same time, he felt it gave him a chiselled, manly appearance that he somewhat lacked in the real world. his squat torso was bulky, yet reasonably well defined and |
easier to carry around than a stone or two of fat. then there was his apparent inability to grow fatigued, which was probably the biggest difference of all from real life. a small part of him was still not satisfied and yearned for the ability to fly, or to jump over mountains, or for him to be equipped with some cool gadgets or weaponry. but on the whole he was pretty happy.
he shifted his gaze from the distant spire to the slopes that lay before him. there were several miles of rugged terrain for him to negotiate, but rather than baulking at the prospect he felt an unfamiliar urge to take up the challenge.
'after all,' he said to himself. 'if i can't grow tired then what's the big deal?'
and with that in mind, he set off at a steady jog. the soft sand, which would have sapped his energy in the real world, |
posed no problems and soon gave way to dry, hard-packed earth. stones and clumps of dirt crumbled in a most satisfying way under-foot, and ryan found that even when the land began to rise, his pace remained metronomic. happily, the pain and exhaustion he would usually have been feeling, even after the slightest exertion, were blissfully absent.
he pounded up the mountainside, following the course of a different river from the one he had traced on his previous visit. strangely, he found that he was really enjoying himself as he took in all his surroundings. when he was normally forced to go running the pain was always so great that he had little time to concentrate on anything else, and he would simply trudge along under a cloud of misery. he wondered whether the feeling of enjoyment was what pushed marathon |
runners to keep going for hours on end.
whatever it was, it was truly liberating, and before he had even considered looking back to check his progress he rounded a corner and found the main gates of the spire not a hundred yards ahead of him.
stunned by how quickly and easily he had made the ascent, he stopped to admire the view for a few moments as a light breeze whipped swirls of dust into the air around him. perhaps there was something to be gained from running after all.
he made his way up to the gates, passed under the high archway and arrived to find the terraces all but deserted. a ghostly man was pacing back and forth on the top step, mumbling softly to himself, while a bizarre figure with the torso of a woman and the four-legged body of a tiger was heading out along one of the walkways towards the |
outer wall.
'you okay there, son?' came a gruff voice behind him.
its owner was a scruffy-looking border collie, with flashes of metal and sinew exposed within gaps in its patchy coat.
'yeah, i'm good,' replied ryan. 'it's a bit quiet here, isn't it?'
'you're new here, aren't you?'
ryan nodded.
'this is what we call the lull,' said the dog. 'it's a bit like the calm before the storm. you see, very shortly all the dreamweavers from across the pond will start heading off to bed and this place will be overrun with americans and the like.'
'so it's to do with time zones then?'
'that's right. there are fewer people falling asleep at this moment, while dusk makes its way across the atlantic. you get the odd one or two showing up here and there; those who have gone to bed late, or early, or those who have been |
working unsociable shifts elsewhere in the world. what's your excuse?'
'late night,' said ryan simply. 'what's yours?'
'ah, i'm a bit of a special case. i don't really have a role here. not right now anyway. i've only recently come back to the fold, so to speak. you get me?'
'not really,' said ryan bluntly.
'well, i used to be a disruptor; an offensive dreamweaver. one of the best, in fact. my job was to travel to the nightmare realm and wreak havoc on rasputin's plans. unfortunately i had some bad experiences and had to go away for a while to sort my head out.'
'what do you mean 'go away'?' asked ryan. 'i didn't think dreamweavers had a choice about coming here.'
'oh there are ways lad, trust me,' said the dog cryptically. 'sadly they have a rather negative effect on your life in the real world, so it's |
a road that few choose to go down, if they can help it. i, for one, do not wish to go back to that way of life. i'm here and i'm ready to start afresh. in fact, i'm just off to see the chancellor to discuss my position.'
'who? rockwell?'
the dog gave a distasteful grunt.
'him? god no. i'm off to see the _real_ head of this place, not the jumped-up second best. elena grimstone. you won't have met her yet, but she's really quite something, believe you me.'
'never heard of her,' said ryan dismissively.
'of course you haven't,' said the dog, scratching at an exposed area of metal with his hind leg and making a sound that rather grated on ryan's nerves. 'she's the boss, see? she doesn't really bother with the minor affairs of those below her, especially the training of newcomers. she's got far more important |
matters to attend to.'
'what, like talking to you?' ryan was growing impatient.
'i'm not sure i like your tone,' growled the dog. 'i'll have you know that the two of us happen to be very close friends. anyway, my point is that there's a lot for you still to discover about this place. they only let you know what you need to know and nothing more. if you ever need the low-down on what really goes on here, you know who to ask.'
he reached out with his right paw.
'rex bailey. yeah, i know, a dog called rex; how original. it's just a coincidence, right?' he smiled, baring his metal teeth.
'ryan butler,' said ryan, shaking the proffered paw.
'hmm, same initials,' said the dog thoughtfully. 'well, i'm sure it must mean something. anyway, i'm guessing you've got a class to go to?'
ryan looked at the main doors |
to the spire.
'yeah, and i'm dead late,' he said.
'i wouldn't worry about that. just get there before the yanks arrive and take over the place.'
ryan nodded.
'cheers,' he said. 'i guess i'll see you around.'
'right-o,' said rex, wagging his tail. 'see you later.'
ryan trudged up the terraces, past the ghostly man, who didn't appear to notice him in the slightest, and passed through the enormous glass doors. he turned to take one last look at rex, but the dog had disappeared. ryan shook his head. once again questions were being posed far quicker than they were being answered.
ryan found the others pretty much where he had left them the previous night. having used the colours on the walls of the corridors to locate their training room, he found katya and moira sitting together on the benches, chatting.
'hi |
guys,' he said, clumping over and sitting down next to them.
'heya,' replied moira, ruffling her feathers. 'where've you been? tristram's been wondering when you'd get here.'
'oh, late night out with the boys. you know how it is,' he replied nonchalantly.
the girls looked at him with blank expressions.
'all right, so my mum was drunk and i was helping her out,' he said irately, getting up and heading over to the pool. the rest of the group were back on the hilltop looking like they were still working with their sticks. ryan gave a quick glance over at the girls and then somersaulted in.
'hi ryan, what kept you?' asked tristram as the boy popped into existence right next to him.
'just stuff,' said ryan. he suddenly realised that isabella was close by and sucked his gut in as best he could. 'what are we doing |
anyway?'
'same as yesterday,' tristram replied. 'some people haven't successfully managed a morph yet.'
'oh right,' said ryan, scrunching up his nose. 'so you want me to start throwing my stick again?'
'i'd rather you tried something new,' replied his tutor. 'daisy's over there trying to vacuum up some dead leaves.'
he pointed to where daisy rose was holding a large stick in both hands and flourishing one end gracefully across the ground. as they watched, it suddenly changed into a length of plastic hose, and she started clearing the ground of leaves with great delight. a few moments later, she disappeared.
'she's progressing well,' observed tristram. 'the only one who's anywhere near her is teemu.'
'what? has he been setting fire to stuff again?' asked ryan, looking round for the anaemic finn.
'a bit. |
but he's been doing other stuff too. he created a machete to hack down one of the trees. and a hatchet, too, for similar purposes. i think the boy has aggression issues.'
'really? he seems so quiet.'
'they're the ones you want to watch out for,' replied tristram. 'perhaps he's got issues at school, or at home, that make him want to blend in. hence his avatar.'
'well, he's taken all my ideas,' said ryan. 'i don't have a clue what else to do with a stick.'
'there's no harm in doing them too. trust me, he's hardly the first person to try cutting down trees in a training exercise. but that would probably require the same emotion as throwing your javelin. you'd be better off broadening your horizons with something that doesn't require anger or aggression.'
'i'll give it a go,' said ryan, suddenly noticing sophie |
a short way off. he nodded goodbye to tristram and headed over to her, pretending to be searching for a stick.
sophie saw him approaching and smiled.
'hey ryan. i imagine you were wondering where i was today.'
'actually, i think i already know,' he replied, returning her smile.
'really?'
'yeah. you were feeling a little peckish, right?'
'more than a little. how did you know that?'
'it happened to me as well. i thought i was going to die.'
'me too! i managed to call out to my mum and she could see i wasn't well. she phoned the school and told them i wouldn't be coming in. billy was the same, so i just assumed it was a stomach bug or something.'
'nah, it's definitely something to do with this place. dizz was like it too.'
'was she?' asked sophie, raising an eyebrow.
'err, yeah... i saw her on the way |
in,' said ryan, thinking quickly. 'actually, i meant to ask tristram about it.'
'well, he's only over there,' said sophie.
the two of them headed over to where tristram was now having an animated conversation with isabella. suddenly the italian girl cast her stick into the air with open palms and it turned into a pure white dove, which fluttered around the clearing before flying away into the distance.
'wow,' said sophie, watching it go.
'not an easy one that,' called tristram, turning away as isabella disappeared and wandering over to them. 'morphing something dead into something living is not straightforward.'
'daisy did it yesterday,' said ryan, and then kicked himself for bringing up her name again in sophie's presence.
'you're right, she did,' said tristram. 'but how are you two getting on?'
'all |
right,' said ryan, conscious that sophie was holding a stick and he wasn't. 'we've got a question for you actually.'
'fire away,' smiled tristram.
'okay, so we all woke up this morning feeling hungry,' said sophie. 'what's that about?'
' _really_ hungry,' added ryan for emphasis.
tristram's face fell.
'oh, bugger me, i totally forgot to tell you about that. it's pretty much the first thing i should have covered. you see, dreamweaving is one of the best workouts your mind can have and as with any exercise it consumes energy. it's not like any other type of brain function; it really is a tough workout and without proper sustenance it's almost impossible to do. in fact, that's probably why you woke up when you did ryan; after several successful morphs there was probably nothing left in the tank. for my part, |
i always sleep with a couple of chocolate bars and a bag of jelly babies next to my bed, just in case.'
'i could have done with those yesterday,' said ryan. 'it took me about half an hour to reach the kitchen.'
'i'm so sorry,' said tristram, hanging his head. 'i really should have told you; it just totally slipped my mind. you'll have lessons on nutrition before long, but it is important that you are at least made aware of it up front as it's the main side effect you'll experience. i'd best go and let the others know.'
and with that, he headed over to frederic, who still did not seem to be having much luck with morphing.
'well, that explains it then,' said sophie, who was staring at tristram's backside as it walked away from them.
'yeah,' said ryan, who most certainly was not looking at the same thing. 'looks |
like i'll be ordering a mini-fridge for christmas.'
'hmm?' murmured sophie, off in a world of her own the only other occupant of which was tristram.
'oh forget it,' said ryan moodily, and he went to find a stick.
he found a gnarled, dried out branch half-buried under a pile of leaves and spent a few minutes pacing around the knot of trees trying to work out what to do with it. there were very few of the others still around, so he had no one to pinch ideas from. he wondered whether they had succumbed to the same burning hunger he and his friends had experienced the night before.
a bluebottle buzzed lazily around his head and he swatted at it with the stick to ward it off. ahead of him, frederic finally managed to achieve a morph and disappeared into thin air.
'come on, think,' said ryan out loud, annoyed |
at seeing someone else making progress.
the bluebottle zipped past him again and he waved it away angrily.
'leave me alone will you, i'm trying to think!' he snarled.
the fly took no notice, banked sharply and headed straight back at him.
'sod off you little git!' shouted ryan, cocking his stick and pulling the trigger.
an ear-splitting crack rent the air across the hilltop, rattling between the tree trunks before escaping out into the world beyond. a thin plume of smoke rose nonchalantly from the muzzle of the shotgun ryan had created. the bluebottle had been obliterated.
'holy chr...' was all he managed before he was ejected from the hilltop and found himself tumbling back into the training room. he landed in a heap at the feet of a large man with four arms who he hadn't seen before.
'you okay there, |
son?' came the smooth american accent.
'i'm not sure,' said ryan. 'do i look okay?'
'you look just fine,' drawled the man, offering out one of his two right hands.
ryan went to take it, but the man moved it and presented the other. ryan then made for that one, but found the first put forward again. this happened several times before the man, with a broad grin, let him take one of them and pulled him to his feet. ryan did not find it particularly endearing.
there came a large splash and tristram's majestic, winged form arrived in the room. there were gasps of wonder from an odd array of students seated on the benches, none of whom ryan recognised. the four-armed american drew himself up and bristled at the new arrival.
'ryan, are you all right?' asked tristram, looking genuinely concerned and apparently not |
noticing the other occupants of the room.
'yeah, i'm fine,' replied ryan, flexing his fingers and rolling his neck experimentally.
tristram relaxed.
'what the hell did you do?'
'there was a fly buzzing around my head, and it was really annoying me, so i blasted the crap out of it with a shotgun.'
tristram's jaw dropped.
'having trouble controlling your students, ainsworth?' asked the american, stepping forward. tristram appeared to notice him for the first time and threw the man a scowl.
'we're getting on just fine, thanks swift,' he said curtly.
'i can see that,' replied the other man. 'do excuse us; we haven't been properly introduced yet. stanley swift; inductor and protector. skilled in counter-weaving and physical evolution.'
'and modest to boot,' ryan heard tristram mutter.
swift ignored the comment |
and offered a hand to ryan. the boy looked at it and wondered whether he would have to go through the same nonsense again.
'ryan butler; creator of sharp objects and things that go _bang!_ ' he said, taking it at the second attempt swift clearly thought he needed a reminder of how many arms he had.
'so, you're becoming a weapons expert are you?' asked swift, standing tall with both pairs of hands on his hips. 'good for you, son. better than this chump could manage, i'm sure.'
'yeah, well i've been working on a 'weave to make your ego smaller, but i don't think even rasputin would be capable of dealing with something that big,' said tristram sarcastically.
'well, let me know when one of you is up to it,' said swift loftily, and he turned back to his class.
tristram motioned for ryan to leave the room and |
the two of them headed out into the bright, airy walkway, down two flights of steps and out into the fresh air.
'what about the others?' asked ryan.
'you're the last of the group,' smiled tristram. 'everyone else has woken up. you had a late start tonight.'
'sorry about that. my mum... oh never mind. let's just say my evening turned a bit crap.'
'domestic trouble?' asked tristram, spreading his wings and letting the breeze ruffle his dark feathers.
'something like that. who was that idiot anyway?'
tristram chuckled.
'that idiot, as you put it, was in my class when i was learning to dreamweave. you could say we had a bit of a rivalry going on.'
'a bit?'
'okay, a lot. we were good at similar things, you see. both of us perform the same role here; we teach newcomers and help protect the isle from rasputin's |
raiders.
'so is he better at it than you?'
tristram laughed again.
'hardly, although i'm sure that's exactly what you'd expect me to say. stan's got a big mouth and isn't afraid to use it. that's not to say he isn't skilful in what he does. he's just not as good as he'd have you believe, otherwise he would be running this place by now.'
'did you put him in his place? is that why he doesn't like you?'
'kind of. showed him up; that would be a better way of putting it. when the evidence is there for everyone to see they are free to make up their own minds. he still happily talks himself up, and luckily our paths don't cross that often. we're never going to be best of friends and i think we both like it that way.'
'it's funny,' said ryan. 'you seem to get on so well with everyone else.'
tristram smiled. 'everyone |
should have a nemesis. do you?'
ryan scratched his tin head and thought for a moment.
'i'm not sure,' he said eventually. 'i don't think so.'
'really? you mean there isn't someone at school who's taunted and teased you from day one. or someone who always seems to do better than you at everything?'
'well there's harry hopkins, but he just picks on everyone, so i don't think i'm particularly special. do i really need one?'
'i just find a bit of rivalry always helps to bring out the best in me,' said tristram. 'it helps me to push myself. and we should always be looking to do that, no matter how old or experienced we are. if anyone ever tells you they are too old to learn something new, whatever it may be, then they are a fool. it's never too late to learn.'
'yes master,' said ryan in a husky voice. he placed |
his palms together in front of him and bowed from the waist.
'you sarcastic little git,' said tristram, laughing loudly. 'you know, it's nice to meet someone like you ryan; someone who doesn't take things too seriously. you will certainly meet a few characters here, some of whom will seem a bit stuck up and self-important. by all means learn from this place, but don't let it change you the way it has them.'
'yes master,' said ryan again, repeating the action.
'all right, all right, i get the message. no more lectures, i promise.'
they chatted a while longer about their respective school experiences and eventually ryan found tristram harder and harder to focus on. he rubbed his eyes but, before he knew it, another night had passed and the real world beckoned.
14
ryan awoke to only a mildly angry tummy that |
morning, having performed only a solitary 'weave that night. it came as quite a welcome relief after what had been a rather difficult friday. he lay flat on his back as raindrops pelted the skylight above him. the alarm clock on the cabinet next to him declared that it was a little after ten thirty, though the lack of light coming through his windows nearly fooled him into thinking it was not yet dawn. it was okay; he had a while until he was due to meet up with his mates. there was no doubt that his mum would let him hang out with them after last night.
dear god, his mum; what sort state would she be in when she woke up? he lay there for a while feeling smugly satisfied that his efforts the previous night would pay off and expecting any minute for breakfast in bed to arrive.
when eleven thirty came and went |
without any sign of her ryan began to get annoyed. he eventually got up and stomped out of his room to find out what she was playing at. arriving on the landing, he found the door to her room steadfastly shut.
'oh for crying out loud,' he muttered under his breath. 'and you call _me_ lazy.'
ryan had never experienced a hangover, but he was sure that it couldn't be that bad. resigned to the fact that breakfast was going to be what he made of it, he headed downstairs and began to work on the mother of all fry-ups.
the smell of his cooking seemed to do the trick, for just as he had sat down to a triple egg butty with bacon, sausages and onions, his mum appeared at the kitchen door. she was accompanied by a full helping of bed hair and a dressing gown showing off slightly more than ryan would have liked.
'oh |
baby, you did breakfast!' she said with a weak smile, heading over and planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek. 'how thoughtful of you.'
the reek of booze was still tangible.
'put it away mum. jesus, i'm trying to eat,' said ryan irately, wiping off the kiss. she looked down and then hurriedly tightened the gown.
'i hope i didn't wake you last night,' she added.
ryan's butty stopped an inch short of his mouth and then slowly returned to his plate.
'wake me?' he repeated. 'mum, you tore the house to pieces.'
she stopped with one hand on the fridge door and looked at him as though he was speaking a foreign language.
'what are you talking about, honey? the place looks fine.'
'that's because i spent half the night clearing up after you,' he said angrily. 'jeez, don't you remember throwing your guts up in here?'
the |
strange look remained fixed on her face.
'babe, i've no idea what you are talking about. granted, i feel a little worse for wear this morning, but i'm not that bad.'
'right. wait here,' said ryan firmly, heading upstairs to fetch his phone. 'and for your information it's now the afternoon,' he called from the landing.
by the time he got back his mum was tucking into the remnants of the fry-up that he had not been able to fit into his sandwich.
'mmm, this is great darling; just what i needed,' she said through a mouthful of bacon. there was no doubting that mrs butler was an attractive woman, but this was hardly her finest moment.
ryan sat down as close to her as he could stomach and tried to assume the same tone she usually adopted when he'd been up to no good. he opened the stored image folder on his phone |
and flicked back to a picture of the hallway.
'right, let's start from the top, shall we?' he said.
his mother peered over with interest.
'at approximately half past midnight this morning you returned home.' ryan was doing his best to recount it with the unwavering certainty of a tv detective. it wasn't a great success, but it amused his mum. that was, until she saw the photo. 'on entering the property you attempted to turn on the hall light so you could see what you were doing. you missed.'
the images of the shattered portrait and the bloodied glass on the floor seemed to hit his mum like a thunderbolt. she sat back, staring at the plaster on her hand, as the fragmented memories began to piece themselves back together.
'oh my god,' she mouthed, slowly turning to ryan with a look of unmitigated horror in |
her eyes.
'indeed,' said ryan stoutly, trying to maintain his stoic demeanour. 'i'm afraid it gets worse from here on. having finally managed to work the lights, you suddenly realised just how hungry you were feeling. so you made your way here, to the kitchen, to make yourself something to eat.'
'don't...' cried his mum, putting up her hands and turning away as he made to show her the image of the smashed bowl on the floor. she gave a small sob, and ryan knew that he no longer needed the phone.
when she eventually turned back, her eyes were moist and her cheeks streaked with the remnants of her mascara. she looked at him with such helplessness that ryan's resolve broke, and he reached forward and hugged her. it was something he hadn't done for a long time; not since realising that showing outward affection |
to one's parents was not cool. he didn't care now. anyone could have been watching and he would not have felt ashamed. it was just like the moment the previous evening when a rarely used emotion had triggered and he had made the decision to clean her mess up. he loved his mum too much to see her go through such pain.
'i'm so sorry,' he heard her sob into his t-shirt.
ryan wasn't really used to dealing with someone so distraught. a couple of pats on the back and a 'there, there,' did not seem to do it justice. still, that was all he could think of, so he did it anyway.
after a while his mum seemed to regain herself a little and she sat up. taking him by the shoulders, she looked deep into his eyes as tears continued to carve deep furrows down her cheeks.
'ryan, honey. i am so, so sorry. i... i just don't know |
what to say. for you to see that... to put you through it... i'm such a terrible, terrible mother.'
'no mum...'
'yes i am, i'm crap at it. i haven't been looking after you properly or spending any quality time with you. i've just given you all this to deal with.'
'mum, mum seriously, it's okay. i'm fourteen years old. i don't want to spend quality time with you. i just want you to cook me dinner and clean my clothes like any other boy my age.'
he gave her a weak smile, which she returned.
'i haven't even been doing that, though, have i?' she murmured.
'well, it would be nice to see you sometimes. not a lot. just a bit. we both miss dad, but it's up to us to make the best of it.'
the mention of his father brought a fresh flood of tears.
'oh ryan, i am so bad. i don't deserve you, either of you. i'm just |
a horrible, horrible person.'
ryan was starting to regret opening a can of such pitiful, self-loathing worms.
'mum, get a grip. you were just drunk. it happens to everyone at some point, i'm sure.'
'but you don't understand...'
'mum, seriously. just give me my stuff back and we'll call it quits, eh? dad won't have to know about either of us, will he?'
she stared forlornly at his stern face for some moments before her self-pity finally subsided.
'okay babe. after all the clearing up you must have done i can hardly say no to that, can i? it sounds like i'm getting a bargain.' she gave the best smile that she could.
'the photo in the hallway needs a new frame,' said ryan gravely, suppressing the delight building up inside him as he watched his mum head out into the utility room and emerge a few moments later |
carrying his bundle of cables.
'and you'll get rid of all the photos?' she asked as she put them down on the table.
'every last one,' replied ryan. 'look; all gone.'
he waved the phone in front of her, the screen blank. she would never have known whether or not he was telling the truth. in actual fact he _had_ really deleted them. after all, he had copies safely stored on his computer. just in case.
another upshot of ryan's ploy was that his mum had no qualms over letting him see his friends that afternoon. in fact, she even went as far as offering him a lift there, which he accepted as graciously as he could manage, figuring he might as well make the most of it while the going was good.
for ryan, saturdays were often spent up at the leisure centre in town, doing his best to get one up on his mates in the |
presence of girls their age. it was hardly a place that exuded class an ugly, garish sprawl built on top of an old landfill site but that was not something that bothered kids ryan's age in the slightest. it had a cinema, bowling alley and arcades, but the main attraction for the boys was the ice rink, which ran a disco session during the afternoon. it was like a magnet for gaggles of girls in their early teens, most of whom were hopeless skaters. but that was part of the draw; it was a chance for the boys to show off their skills in the hope that one of them would take the bait.
ryan and his mates had been going there for a while and were all good skaters, though while their lines had been cast on plenty of occasions, their bite-rate was pretty dismal.
however, this was the last thing on ryan's mind as he |