It Might as Well be String Theory (book 3 of the hexology in seven parts)
Chapter 12: Isotopaz

Isotopaz

After the morning’s work, Carl slurped away at his mug of tea. He knew it annoyed Dan, but he did it anyway. After all Dan as always, had been five minutes late out the door when Carl picked him up in the company van. A fag had hung from Carl’s mouth, as he briefly day dreamed that the lottery ticket sat his pocket; bough when he got the cigarettes this morning, could get him out of the life he was in. And Dan as usual had a triangle of toast sticking out of his mouth, as if he had finally given up on a breakfast, while Carl had sat tooting the horn. It wasn’t as if Dan couldn’t just bring his breakfast out and eat it on the way to the job. But Dan had his ways, and Carl had his own, like slurping his tea. He said it cooled it just right.

“Want a cheese and ham?” Dan proffered the soft white slice, but with a smile Carl waved it away with his own cheese and pickle in a bap. Such niceties had to be observed, to share ones lunch with your workmate, but they never swapped, preferring the delights their own lunch boxes held. They never offered a biscuit, that was another unwritten rule, that treat would never be shared. The remnants of each man’s feast were finally finished, leaving Carl’s watch at the bottom of his box. One concession he allowed to vanity when he was painting, but also he didn’t want to turn up to sign on with clues to his occupation.

Then Carl leaned over and picked up the pot of paint. “Go get the other tin will you” he ordered his effective underling; Carl owned the van ergo he ran the business. With a surly look Dan rose to keep the peace, after all he did most of the work while Carl merely did the fiddly bits; ergo he should by rights be in charge. As far as money went whoever saw the client got the money, and then they split it even. The taxman never got a look in.

Dan opened the door of the van, which they had parked round the back. “You never know who might take a shine to it”, Carl always explained to an enquiring client. Dan opened the other door; he looked round the sparse back of the van. Asides from some cloths it was bare. He moved the cloths and cursed. No paint tin was to be seen. Climbing right in he leaned over the seats and peered down; it wasn’t in the front. Then in desperation he came round the front and looked under the seats, but he didn’t hold much hope. Cursing again Dan relocked the van and stamped inside.

“You must have brought it in before” he accused Carl, as the other man lay on his side doing a fiddly bit near the skirting board. Looking up Carl shook his shaven head, “No you brought in the first tin while I carried the cloths and brushes remember? There should be a new tin sat in the back of the van, because you were too lazy to bring in both tins at once. You did lock the van properly?” He eased himself up and waved an accusing brush at Dan. “You know I did, because you always check it on account of you not wanting to pay any insurance.” Carl almost smiled at the simplicity of Dan’s trail of thought. They both knew they worked to supplement their dole. That was why they never worked on a Thursday, signing on day. But there was no getting out of it, the tin had gone missing; a quick search of the office and the van again proved that.

“Well we can’t go and get another tin, it’s miles to the shop and they’ve already agreed on a price. I’m not missing out on a night’s drinks, that stuff didn’t come cheep.” He indicated the pot of paint that claimed to be Salmon Topaz. Dan scoured the room again, in the vain hope that he could locate the errant tin; and then his eyes alighted on a glass-fronted cabinet. Inside the cabinet sat various jars of different coloured substances. With the hungry look of someone on the make, he turned back to Carl. “What if we were to mix up some more to finish the job?” He indicated the cupboard.

Carl looked down at the almost empty tin and then back to Dan, and he nodded. “I don’t suppose they’d miss a little here or there.” Dan got to using up the last of the old tin, while Carl began mixing enough of the various colours to finish the job; they’d only need enough for a small patch. After all, they didn’t want any complaints getting back to the taxman or the dole office. The first two batches Carl tried turned out to be too bright and gave off an acrid smell, causing Dan to throw open a window and put Carl on painting duty, while he took over with the mixing. “You have to have an artistic bent” he chucked over his shoulder, occasionally coughing from the fumes.

Finally he turned to his partner, and with a flourish of his hand showed Carl the newly mixed colour. “It looks about the same”, Carl admitted as he held the mix up to the wall. Dan stood arms akimbo, admiring his mixing skills. “And if we blend the last of the old stuff in to this new batch, no one will be the wiser.” They shared a conspiratorial grin. Then Carl began to carefully blend the patch until it looked just right. Standing back their critical eyes swept over the wall. “You can hardly tell it’s different”, remarked Carl. “Care for a cup of tea before we pack up?” Dan held up his flask. And to celebrate the coup Carl held the cups, while Dan poured the last of the hot brown liquid from his flask.

As they sat admiring their work, Dan frowned as he got the oddest feeling that he was being watched. He didn’t like it, it felt too much like the dole office was spying on them; and turning to Carl he noticed he too had an odd look on his face. But Carl was staring intently at the newly painted wall. Carl leaned forward and rubbed his eyes, “I’m sure that bit moved then.” Cursing Dan imagined the plaster being damaged in some way. But no, as he now studied the spot it seemed to undulate with slow ripples like a cup of tea gone wrong. Dan slapped his face; it was the booze finally getting to him. He’d heard about people going wappy after years on the drink. But clearly Carl was seeing it too; the thought of a shared hallucination never entered his head. Like most things beyond his ken Dan was oblivious to the phenomenon.

Dan tentatively placed his finger on to the wall, and with wide-eyed shock found it was not just his finger, but his whole hand passed through. Carl jumped up and tried to grab the now disappearing forearm of the whimpering Dan, but the power that was dragging the terrified painter in to the wall far surpassed any human intervention; and losing his grip Carl fell back as he saw the soles of Dan’s boots slip beneath the vertical surface, leaving just ripples to slowly undulate across it.

With animal instinct only, Carl recoiled to as far as he could get away from this living nightmare. Then he curled up on the other side of the room staring intently once more at the spot where his mate had vanished. With shaking hands Carl reached in to his top pocket for his packet of cigarettes, and never taking his eyes off the fateful patch on the wall, he lit up. His heart was beating ten to the dozen as he contemplated what to do next. The sensible thing would be to pack everything up and forget about it. The police would laugh at him at best, and lock him up at worst. And then there would be all the questions about why they were there in the first place. The dole office and the taxman would hang Carl out to dry. He’d just have to say Dan had wandered off, no he’d not seen him in weeks in fact.

Carl lit another cigarette and began to tidy up, always glancing at the faint ripple on the wall. He couldn’t leave his mate like that; he might be just on the other side, hurt and in need of help. Carl took a step towards the wall; a big ripple undulated across its surface. Then Carl’s legs decided for him and he ran forward. But just as he was about to touch the drying paint, he suddenly pulled his finger back. He’d had an idea, and quickly searching the room he found a fire hose reel. The nearest thing he could find to a rope. Then holding on to the nozzle he went back over to the wall. Carl stretched out his other arm. He immediately felt a pull on it as the paint undulated back and forth more vigorously. Then with a tug, Carl too was sucked in to this strange portal. As the blue patch enveloped him, all that was left to show the men had been there, was a taught fire hose stretched between the now unravelled hose reel and the wall.

Carl dared not open his eyes; he was hanging from the end of the reel. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have been so reckless? How come he was now hanging down? He let an eye open just a little, and snapped it shut immediately. The purple landscape that stretched out before him was like some weird nightmare. He risked another look and took in the strange land before him. Carl had never seen anywhere like it. Was he hallucinating? Was he dead? The pain in his arms from hanging off the fire hose seemed real, and Carl looked down. He immediately regretted it. The drop was buttock clenching, to the misty distance below.

As Carl’s fear overwhelmed brain took in more of this horror than he grasped, he realised he was in fact hung over a ledge. And more than that, it was only a few feet below him. The pain in Carl’s arms was getting worst; he looked up and wondered if the hose would retract back on to it’s reel if he let go; effectively stranding him in this nightmare. And then it struck him, where was Dan? Had he simply carried on down, bouncing off the ledge and in to the void below? He didn’t seem to be anywhere close, “Dan you doss git, where are you?” Carl wheezed through the pain in his arms. There was no reply, not even an echo of his own voice, just the wind whipping past this god forsaken cliff face. As Carl decided to give up this foolhardy rescue and try to climb back up, his arms made the decision for him. With a sudden jerk of pain Carl let go of the hose.

With a thud and a grunt, Carl dropped to the thin ledge; and lay there feeling the burning pain of his abused arms. That was enough for now, so he lay there panting until the worst of it subsided, and he could take in his new situation. Tentatively Carl rolled on to his back and stared up, as one hand felt the secure and reassuring rock, but the other hand found the edge where only air could be grasped. And all the time he watched the hose above him lazily wafting in the breeze. At least that seemed to be staying put. A hopefully ever-present route to the real world, away from whatever hell he and Dan had fallen in to.

Presently Carl eased himself round and managed to stand. The ledge seemed to run off in to the distance either way, but there was a slight but definite slope to it. Carl looked up once more, and with dismay realised the hose end was just out of reach, even if he dared jump up on this narrow way station between home above, and the hell below, he felt helpless. He would have to find something to stand on if he were ever to reach that escape route home; and looking about, that was as likely as his local town winning the cup final. So he decided down hill seemed a reasonable way to go. Normally, given the possible choices a coin flip would suffice; but Carl was out of change and besides it might fall off the edge, or worst still he might go down trying to catch it.

Carl turned and let gravity lead the way; and with one glance back at his escape hose, he wondered at the weird patch that just floated there in mid air with the hose dangling from it. Then he had to concentrate on the path ahead of him least he put one foot wrong and go the same way down that Dan must have gone, to tumble endlessly to his doom. As he felt the rock on his right, desperate for any crevices to hold on to, the light breeze seemed to tug at Carl making him flinch from the sudden visions of vertigo he was succumbing to. Also his knees were aching from the continual downward trail. Then with a lurch Carl almost stumbled and reeled away from the safety of the cliff face, but pulling himself up at the last moment he froze and sank to a heap; with his back to the wall, and staring out at the impossible landscape.

Carl lit a cigarette and stared out, trying to make sense of where he was. The green sun still hung low in the sky, and Carl couldn’t tell if it was rising or setting. How long had he stumbled along? He was having trouble remembering actual moments. Perhaps time had stopped, and this weird sun would just hang there forever. Carl cursed taking his watch off to do the painting, a precaution he regretted with all his heart now that he wished for some method of telling how stretched out the moments were now. He could have been stumbling down this path all day for all he knew, and where would it end? Carl suddenly realised he would have to go all the way back up again, with whatever he could find to seize that just out of reach hose, and get home. The shock sent him reeling again, and he took a long drag on his cigarette before flicking it over the edge. Pulling himself back by force of will, before he tried to watch it’s decent; least he follow it too.

A sudden thought struck him; if he had been a long time then maybe someone would be going in to the office he and Dan had been painting. If they found the hose he might get rescued. Carl looked back up the path with renewed hope, straining to see the strange phenomenon that brought him to this. True there would be trouble, but anything would be better than where he was now. Then a memory came to him as if his brain was slipping into gear, it was Friday and no one would be coming to rescue him for two whole days at least. Carl felt the blood drain from his head at this chilling thought; and as he bashed his fist on the rock floor, Carl found a resolve so powerful that he slid back up the rock face, and like an automaton he stumbled on.

That was when he saw it; the path had curved inward so he came upon it almost in an instant of his confused mind. The path fell away in to the misty depths below. And Carl almost stumbled over it in to the void. But clutching the rock to his right he pulled up short, and let his brain catch up with the world. Words failed him, until a well-versed tongue spat out a tirade of abuse at an unfair world. Sated of bile, Carl began to take in a true picture of how bad his situation was. The path did in fact continue after a break of twenty feet, far too much for him to jump, even if he didn’t stumble when he hit the other side. Then Carl laughed in hollow mirth, he couldn’t jump twenty feet anyway. He’d drop in to the depths before he got five feet out in to the void, and he pulled himself back with a jerk imagining the drop. He stared at the gap, willing it not to be there and forlornly at the pitiful bit of the path still clinging to the rock face. It was no more than a foot wide, and a shiver ran down Carl’s spine. He’d never be able to cross that, or could he?

Carl began to stare intently at the rock wall; there were holes and crevices. Could he hold on to them and inch his way over? Yes said some belligerent voice at the back of Carl’s mind, and without a second thought he felt for the first crack to wedge his fingers in. It felt solid and a resolve to get through this surged through Carl’s aching muscles. He slid his left foot along the thin band of the world holding him up, constantly fighting the knowledge that his heels hung over the void, clinging to each crevice with a vice like grip, hugging the rock face like a lover; but ever looking towards the far side, willing it closer.

He was almost there, just five more feet to go when Carl’s legs began to shake, and he pressed even harder to the one thing keeping him alive, his hands burned with the strain. His fingers felt like they were breaking, and Carl almost began to slump. But from deep down inside the same voice that had set him on this foolhardy climb came back with a vengeance, and led his pain fogged mind through each movement, every step, every arm stretch, until with one final effort Carl slumped down on the path beyond. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

He just lay there, unable to form a coherent thought, like some waking nightmare dragging him around like a rag doll. He woke up weeping, and the sight of the drop before him made Carl crawl back against the solid rock behind him. Then like a weight pushing down on his chest Carl realised his mistake. How was he going to get back to the hose? He’d barely made it across that chasm this time. He’d never be able to do it carrying anything back, and he cursed his own stupidity. Well he wasn’t going to give up now, he’d just have to carry on and trust to luck, but first he’d rest. Carl still felt weak, and he had to start thinking. He couldn’t keep making mistakes.

He lit another cigarette and dragged deeply on it, pondering the scant few that remained in the packet. Then as the light breeze took his smoke away, Carl finally relaxed and took in the scene in front of him. The glow from the sun bathed the land as it stretched far away to the horizon; giving it such vivid colours that it almost felt like an invitation to this other world. As if he were privy to the new day held here forever in the moment. At that instant Carl felt he could be happy here; then like his smoke the feeling drifted away, and Carl knew he must face the harshness of reality. He got up once more to stumble on.

The path seemed to be widening out now, and Carl was sure it felt like it was levelling off, as he found it increasingly harder to put one foot in front of the other. With a sudden realisation Carl gripped his stomach, and realised he was famished, as it growled at him accusingly. Then looking up from his constantly aching belly, Carl was even more astonished to see a village tucked in to the crevice he had stumbled on to. It seemed to stretch back and up tier after tier of well-tended plots, each with a rough hut built against the rock face. Straining Carl could discern a picket fence on the edge of each tier, and ladders stretching between the levels. Then he noticed the barrier at the bottom, it was a rough wooden wall, far sturdier than the walls above. This one was made to keep something out, rather than act as a safety net.

So with now leaden feet and dizziness overwhelming him, Carl approached the barrier. There didn’t seem to be any way past the high wall barring his way to any help. And now he was close enough, Carl realised it would be futile to try and climb the smooth wooden structure, as it towered above him. Flopping down with his back to wall, Carl sank in to a stupor as he pushed the dust about with his hands and stared up at the sky. Then a funny thing happened. The strait line of the wall top was broken by a couple of heads staring down at him. Carl gave a start before crying out for help. The smiles on the two faces gave Carl hope, and when one disappeared to return with a rope, which snaked down to Carl’s outstretched arms, he knew his tribulations must be as an end, at least for the moment.

One of the figures leaned over enough to indicate that Carl should tie the rope around his waist, and he soon found himself being hauled up this seemingly impenetrable barrier. The rough-hewn wood finally yielded it’s top, and Carl found a pair of hairy arms festooned with symbols hauling him over the wall’s zenith. Next Carl found himself on a parapet, where he lay there panting from his exertions, and looking up at two men only clad in loincloths. “What cha doin’ down there?” one of Carl’s saviours called out, as if Carl were some idiot found wandering in a minefield. It took Carl a few seconds to register what the man had just said, and more importantly how he said it. If he had closed his eyes, he could swear this stranger was stood in the Old Rodger on Finnick Street, and not on a wall in it oh so strange land.

“What did you say mate?” Carl almost tripped over his words in the joy of finding the familiar in this unworldly place. But satisfied that their charge was not seriously hurt, and that the rope used to bring him up had been stowed; the two men took Carl’s arms and frog marched him to some steps leading down to a sort of village square. Carl thought it must be the only decent sized piece of flat land in the whole village. And then he saw the lines, it was a crudely marked out football pitch. In the middle sat an impressive figure; that surveyed Carl over his rotund belly. Carl couldn’t fail to notice the odd looking shirt the man was wearing. It seemed to be an unfamiliar team’s colours, and hung down passed any embarrassment. But from the very way the man acted, Carl assumed he must be the chief of the village.

He was busy tucking in to a pie as Carl’s two guards approached with him. “Found him off side” announced the man who had first spoke to Carl. The chief peered at the pitiful state of Carl’s appearance, and then taking a free pie from an ample pile, he tossed it towards Carl, who at least had the present of mind to catch it and nod thanks before hunger got the better of him. Coughing slightly from the crust Carl looked up from his now empty hands, to see the chief had been patiently studying him as he consumed the food. Then leaning forward again the fat man asked, “What’s yer team?” Was this a sort challenge, which if Carl answered wrong could lead to some sort of inter team violence. But at this point Carl was past caring, and at least he had been fed. So he called back the first team he could think of. “Accrington Stanley”, hoping it’s obscurity wouldn’t cause an animosity. The chief seemed a little perplexed; perhaps thought Carl he’d never heard of them. None the less the chief finally seemed satisfied with Carl’s answer.

With a notion that he had passed some kind of test, a right of passage as it were, Carl reached in to his top pocket for his packet cigarettes. Noticing there were only two left, he offered one to the chief, “Fag?” At the word the man in charge almost toppled off his seat. Then he pointed animatedly at the packet, as he asked in an awed voice “You’ve got the sacred smokes, the fags of whom the great one craves. How came you by this relic?” And taken aback by this sudden outburst, Carl returned the packet to his pocket. “I bought them this morning.” Carl’s two guards took a step back as if in reverence of this Stanger from the wastes beyond the wall. And the chief seemed elated that he had the honour of finding such an honourable guest; now it had been established Carl bore such a treasure. “You must journey to the celestial palace. The great one will want to see you.”

Then the chief indicated that Carl’s two wards should accompany him on the pilgrimage, an honour bestowed for his initial rescue. They didn’t set off strait away though, much to Carl’s relief. Joe and Lenny, as Carl’s found his guides to called, stopped off a couple of levels up for supplies, and to let Carl rest. The ladders up just about finished Carl off again, and he lay on one of the beds in a hut, while Lenny and Joe took it in turns to feed his various pies, and a cool but sadly flat lager until overcome but sated, Carl fell in to a doze.

When he awoke refreshed Carl found a small pack by his bed, and the two men sat on mats waiting for him. Then at their urging all three of them put the packs on, before stepping back out in to the full light. Joe took the lead on the ladder up, while Lenny followed after Carl. He was soon panting like a collie from his exertions, and the sight of the unprotected sweaty rump preceding him up the ladder put him off any casual conversation, about who the great one in the celestial palace might be. But he managed to cough one question to the man following him up. “How many more ladders do we have to climb? I’m gasping.” And Carl reached for his top pocket, but the shocked look of blasphemy from Lenny Checked his hand and he just patted the bulge, as if to check it was still there.

Occasionally a face would pop out of one of the hut windows and ask, “Who you got there Joe?” At which Joe would wheeze back, “Bloke with a pack of fags.” The look of awe on the askers face followed them in to the dark hut, and then a small group would gather below Carl and his two guides, as they carried on up. By the time Carl’s ears began to pop, and he was beginning to see blue sparks before his eyes, a hand reached down to help him up. And looking past Joe, Carl could see the end to this trial by endurance. Then flopping down at the top of the village all three men lay panting, and enjoying the view. The same vista stretched out beyond the village, but glancing down Carl noticed that each tier held a small knot of people straining to see them, as now every hut had heard of the legendary fag man.

Finally Carl broke the silence. “So who’s this great one that lives in the celestial palace?” Joe looked at Carl as if he had asked what the opposite of up was. And deciding Carl really didn’t know of the Supreme Being, he began. “About ten years ago the great one fell from the sky, as the old celestial one lay dying in his bed. And it was the new great one who touched the sacred hand, and thus the reign passed as it always has. The old great one left his mortal shell so that his spirit could ascend, and since that day we have bourn the holy symbols of the new great one.” Lenny held up a crudely draw tattoo on his arm, and Carl couldn’t help but see vague similarities between the man’s tattoo and his own. He Held out his arm to show his two companions his markings. The guides looked impressed, for although Carl’s were different to the marks holy writ had decreed should be set down, his were unmistakably of a higher quality. And Carl was sure Joe mouthed the words “Holy man.”

Keen to finally meet the ruler of this land, Carl fought his aching limbs and indicated that they should move on. His guides clearly showed signs of fatigue also, but in reverence to Carl they pushed on, skirting a forest of mighty trees. Occasionally they passed the head of another valley, and on Carl’s request Joe told him it was called Umbukoo united, and another was Kawalli rovers. “Orders from the great one”, Lenny added. Soon the path became a set of winding steps, and Carl had to stop several times to catch his breath; until at last he spied a glint of gold up ahead. “The celestial palace” Joe informed him, and getting his second wind, Carl pushed on ahead of his companions. Then after briefly rounding a bluff, Carl suddenly came upon the golden spires of the celestial palace. He almost stumbled, and he had to shield his eyes as the reflected light off the gate alone, made it seem like a fire before him.

As Carl stood in blind awe of the sight, he heard the challenge. “Who approaches the holy palace of the great one?” And Joe came to his assistance, guiding Carl by the elbow up the last few steps. Lenny must have been at Carl’s other elbow, for he whispered to Carl, “You must show the guards your sacred offering.” Carl fumbled in his pocket and held up his sacred charge. Like a talisman it was his passport through the gates, as the firm but gentile hands of the guardians took Carl, and he left his guides behind. As his eyes grew accustomed to the bright light, Carl noticed the bronzed figures on either side of him. These were true Adonises compared to the figures cut by all the other people Carl had seen in this land. And Carl began to wish he were among those he felt more akin to. But the firm grip he was held in, assured Carl that he would be staying in this palace of light for the present at least.

He was led across a lawn beautifully laid out like a foot ball pitch, and adorning each end stood an actual gold set of posts hung with a silk net. It was only then that Carl noticed the men walking either side of him wore a full football kit, delicately manufactured from silk. That was when his attention was drawn to the palace he was approaching. The crystal panes gave it the look of an ornate gazebo, but constructed on a grand scale only available to the insanely wealthy. With every step Carl was almost blinded by the rays of light reflecting off the wall, until it was all that he could do to stop himself from tripping up the steps. Then with an in take of air, the doors in front of him opened, and Carl stepped in to a marvellous throne room.

The bearded figure before him surveyed Carl and rose, his pure white silk robes billowed in the slight breeze. Meanwhile Carl was only just now recovering from the blinding approach to the palace. So he was taken unawares, as the ruler of this land planted a punch in his stomach, and Carl crumpled to the floor. What crime had he committed? Was he to suffer further by this cruel tyrant of this impossibly insane world?

As the injustice of it all swept over him, Carl heard the ranting of the man who stood fists shaking over him. “Carl you git, where the hell have you been? I’ve waited ten years for you to show your sorry ass. I thought you’d forgotten me.” Dan was almost in tears as he raged over his one link to his former life, and he sank to his knees to hold Carl’s face up. The sorry state of Dan’s time ravaged face was a stark comparison to his own, as Carl asked “What happened to you mate? And how did you get that beard?” But still with anger in his tone Dan spat out, “You haven’t done too bad for yourself. You still look the same as the day you abandoned me, ten years ago.”

All this was too confusing for Carl, as he tried to make some sense of Dan’s accusation. “I didn’t abandon you. I had a cigarette to calm down, then I followed strait after you. With a rope to get you back.” But the look of pain in Dan’s eyes told him something was wrong with his words, and he knew Dan could never lie to him.

Then a thought struck him, if Dan thought he’d left him for ten years before attempting a rescue, there must be something going on, and Carl reached in to his back pocket. With relief Carl felt a piece of paper, and he took it out. “Look, here’s that lottery ticket I got this morning”, explained Carl as he held it up for Dan’s inspection. And the bearded figure snatched the ticket form his grasp. As if inspecting some precious gem, the aged eyes scanned the little piece of paper, observing the date, pouring over the pristine quality of the paper. Then satisfied that it was the genuine article, the realisation that this voucher from the past, a document decreeing an unassailable truth, Dan’s eyes rose once more to take in Carl’s appearance. As Dan strained to recall details almost lost over the years, he brought up a mental image nearly faded over the years spent in this palace. Then almost as if in disbelief Dan said, “You look just like you did that day.”

Drawing the packet from his top pocket, Carl proffered Dan a cigarette, and took the other himself. As the flame from Carl’s lighter flickered between them, the two men’s eyes met, and Carl mumbled between his teeth. “I only stopped for a fag, then I came after you.” Dan took a drag, and with the look of bliss on his face gave a cough. “It’s been years mate. Time must work differently here.” He hugged Carl as an old friend, being carful not to damage his precious cigarette. After a second they broke apart, and Dan led the still confused Carl through to an inner chamber where they sat on cushions, and enjoyed the delicacies laid out for them.

At first Dan sat and listened to Carl’s adventures; of how he had stumbled down the path. He chuckled at the thought that Carl believed he’d gone over the edge. And when Carl got to the part where he found the wall Dan interjected, “The locals were having a fair bit of trouble when I arrived, with wild beasts”, he shuddered. “And it hadn’t occurred to them just to bar them out.” Then in a hushed tone Dan added, “Most of the natives seem a little on the dull side, that’s why I introduced them to football. I thought it might give them a team spirit, and of course it reminded me of home.” He gave a little cough. “The one thing I couldn’t get was a decent smoke though.”

By now Carl could hardly contain himself with the question burning in his mind. “But how did you become the supreme leader with all the power of some emperor?” Dan smiled, “That was sheer luck, you remember when I fell through the wall? Well I landed on that path.” He winced at the thought, “It sure winded me, and it took a while before I realised I wasn’t in the parking lot behind the office. By then I noticed the sort of portal hovering way out of reach. I knew I’d never be able to get back through it from below, but I figured you’d find some way to get a rope to me, or something. Well that fell flat after I’d waited what seemed like an eternity.”

Carl’s pained look seemed to touch Dan as he hastily added, “Not that I blame you. On your side only a fraction of a second must have passed.” And Dan recalled the moment as if it were only yesterday, his eyes glazed over. But he was back in an instant, “It was then that I decided I had to save myself. So seeing one way on the path led up, I figured if I could get above the portal, I could drop through it and get back.”

Carl’s look of astonishment that he too could have tried that, was lost on his friend, as Dan carried on with his tale. “I staggered up the slope, now weak with hunger, as I’d wasted so much time just waiting there. And then I came to a set of steps cut in the rock. So bolstered with the hope that here was some sort of civilisation, I climbed them. I kept looking out to see if I could catch a glimpse of the portal from above, but I suppose I must have been too high above it then to stand any chance of hitting it, if I did get the courage to jump. Then just as my legs began to give out from under me, I came to a flat section with a nook in the rocks. And I just fell down and slept. I figured I’d just die there, and be done with it.

How long I slept there, I don’t know. But this squeaking noise kept getting in to my head, and I finally awoke with the sight of a stout wooden gate next to me. I must have just not seen it in my weariness when I first fell down. It was another sign that some help might be at hand, if only I could get to someone. So I dragged myself up and pushed on the door. It swung in, and I found myself in a beautiful garden, cover by glass.” He held Carl’s hand as if imparting some secret knowledge. “I swear to you, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. The sweet scents and colours seemed to buoy me up, when nourishment had failed me. And I almost drifted through that place, past an ornamental pond, until I came upon another door.

This one was all crystal and gold, and I gave it a try. And would you believe it; that opened like a dream too. That was when I saw the bed, all soft and inviting. The rich walls and furnishings were nothing to me, for I only had eyes for the softness of the sheets. If I could just lie there and fall asleep, death would hold no horror for me. So I half dragged myself, and half staggered over to it’s inviting luxury. It was only when I was about to fall in to it’s embrace, that I saw the wizened figure already there.” Suddenly Dan gave Carl a look of utmost intensity, “I got confused Carl, I thought I was already in the bed. But how could I be? And then the figure was reaching out to me, and he placed something in my palm, before he fell back down dead.

I looked down to see what he had given me, and saw a ring with a dull blue stone in it. I don’t know what made me do it Carl, but I put the darn thing on. And would you believe it, that dull stone began to glow, as if some light had been switched on. From far off I heard a bell clanging, and I just stood there Carl, I just stood there. I was too far-gone to do anything else. That’s when the door opened, the one on the other side of the room to where I came in, and they came in. I thought I’d been caught like a thief in the night, but as they saw my glowing hand, they just bowed right down, right to the floor. Well I can tell you that was just too much for me, and I swooned.

The next thing I knew some fellow was feeding me broth as I lay in that bed, while outside through the glass walls I could see some bonfire going off. Well they fed me up; then some priest bloke told me I was the chosen one. It turns out the ring chooses the ruler, or it wouldn’t glow.” And Dan waved his arms about, “I own all this they said, just give the orders and my every wish would be fulfilled.” He frowned, “only trouble was, they wouldn’t let me out of this glass house. I can see the pitch out there.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “I soon got a league going; when I realised I was here for the duration.” There was a look of desperation in Dan’s eyes, as he dropped his voice again. “For god’s sake Carl, get me out of here.”

It tested all of Carl’s composure not to burst out in exasperation, “Are you mad, you’ve got flunkies pampering your every whim, and you want to jack it in to be a painter again?” But it was a sign of how much desperation Dan’s plea to him held, that made his reply only a whisper. Dan stood and motioned Carl over to a window that looked out on the depths below. Then he spoke in halting tones. “Down there in the mists dwell things beyond your darkest nightmares.” He held Carl’s gaze as he continued. “The only people who can see them is the true master of this”, and he held up his left hand, so Carl could see the glowing ring on his middle finger.

Dan let his hand drop as he paced around the room; his eyes were ever on Carl who stood transfixed by this ruler of a strange land. “Every ruler in the past directed his guards to fight these invisible monsters, who came now and then to steal the villagers and drag them off to what ever fate these fiends had in store for them.” Dan indicated a window that looked like a lens. “There are viewers like this all over the palace, and the great one.” He indicated himself, “Could direct the fight these pitiful natives waged to keep the monsters at bay.”

Dan gave a brief smile, “And with this clever set up they’d invented, you’d think they would have taken a step back and thought about the problem.” He glared at Carl, as if demanding him to see the solution to some riddle. “You remember the wall you had to be dragged over when you first entered Stenhouse village? How long do you think that’s been there? Carl shrugged his shoulders, after all when he was hauled up the last thing on his mind was the history of the barrier he had to get over. Then Dan supplied the answer, “Five years that’s been up. And there’s not been one attack in all that time. I could have kicked myself when I thought the idea up, let alone all those moronic rulers stretching back in to days of yore.”

A smile broke over Carl’s face, as he turned once more to Dan. “Well then, what’s the problem? You’ve solved the trouble of the monsters, and you’ve got it set up sweet.” He indicated the pitch outside, “Your football league for entertainment, and flunkies at your beck and call. You don’t even have to go out in to the cold. But Dan stood resolute, “But it’s not real life is it. It’s not me mate, and it’s driving me crazy.” Exasperated, Carl tried a new tack. “O.K. I see you’ve had enough. So give me the ring.” And he held out his hand. With a shrug Dan carefully slipped the glowing ring from his finger, and it instantly lost the glow, as he handed it over to Carl.

With a furtive look at the door, least some guardian should break in and forbid him, Carl slipped it on to his finger. He was plunged in to a nightmare, as he was racked by pain, while demonic images flashed before his eyes, like cars whizzing by on a busy road. Weird misshapen monsters leered as they shot past encircling his fevered eyes. And Carl felt as if his head would burst apart, as the moment stretched in to an eternity of endless torture. Then he was laid on the floor, panting like he had run a marathon. Dan stood over him with a look of pained concern. “I think we can cross passing the ring on in such a casual manner.” Carl tried to clear his head, and he crawled over to the delicacies laid out for the enlightened one.

As he sat munching on a canapé Dan came to sit by him. “I don’t suppose you’ve got ever got someone to take it off you before?” And Dan shook his head; “No they always refused my command to take it, that’s one order I can’t give.” Dan placed his hand on Carl’s shoulder, looking at the pain in his face as he recovered from the ordeal. “I can see why no one would take it now.” There was a brief knock at the door to the chamber, and one of Dan’s guards entered. “Oh great one there is much fear in Charlton, for the great wall there is shaking with much vigour. And terrible noises vex the people. They fear the horrors may break through.”

Dan instantly walked over to a lens like window on the far wall, and gazed intently in to it. “It’s as if they were roused up by something.” He turned to Carl with a look of guilt on his face. Neither of them dared speak of what had just happened with the ring. As it glowed once more on Dan’s finger, he ordered all the guards to Carlton village, and he stood once more at the window watching intently. Carl came and stood by his side. “Can you see them down there?” He asked, looking at the besieged defensive wall. “No, but if they broke through I would”, and Dan grimaced at the thought of the horrors he might see if the barrier failed.

Carl slapped him on the back, “Well Dan it looks like your defences work, so while the forces of good are off protecting that little village why don’t we take a stroll with a ladder. And finish off our little painting job?” Dan turned to him with a torn look in his eyes. “If I leave them with no one to see the horrors”, he wrung his hands. “But the monsters don’t seem to be able to break through. But if they did.” Dan sank down the wall, his head clutched in his hands, while Carl paced back and forth muttering.

Then he stopped and strode over to Dan. “This ring. Has it always picked a new master on the old one’s death bed?” He held Dan’s up turned face in his hands. “Yes I think the head priest told me that, the line of protection spreading back unbroken through the ages passed on by the passing of the bearer.” Carl gave a thoughtful glance out in to the covered garden. The one place with a connection to real life in the palace; in which the great one was allowed to wander. “Well then I’ve had an idea.”

The wail of pain from Carl’s lips brought the guard running out in to the small garden, to see the great one being dragged from the ornamental pond. His limp form lay on the ground. The guard’s eyes immediately fell on the great one’s hand, and with horror he saw the dying light from the gem that held the fate of his people. The figure next to him silently but swiftly guided the guard towards the hand that held his attention. And before he knew it the now glowing ring sat on his finger, as the figure worked feverishly to resuscitate the dead great one. A cough brought his attention from the ring, as the decade long ruler, the guard had become an unwitting successor of, sat up.

Then a groggy Dan focused his eyes on the guard’s hand, and with a maniacal grin he indicated the still glowing ring. Meeting eye to eye finally, the unspoken truth passed between them. With a nod the new ruler dismissed his abdicated predecessor, and Carl half dragged Dan towards the gate at the far end of the garden. They paused only to pick up one of the wooden ladders used to clean the palace windows, and let the old wooden gate close behind them; this time with a click.

“Don’t go so fast”, complained Dan. “I did die you know.” But the panting Carl called over his shoulder, “And if you don’t want those invisible monsters to get us, you’d better pick up the pace.” Dan’s face became paler as he pushed himself to the limit, all too aware of the horrors he once saw; and he knew now that they could sneak up on them unannounced, until it was too late.

So with the ever-downward pull of the path and their fear of the unseen monsters, the two soon came back to where they had entered this land. “I’m bushed mate”, Carl gasped as they shoved the ladder precariously up against the rock wall. And with relief they saw it more than stretched up to the hose end. With trepidation Dan elected to climb the rungs that would take them to freedom.

He reached out, and grasped that one piece of his own world, and slowly pulled his frame up. Dan’s arms burnt with the effort of dragging his carcass up the hose, but his desire to be free of this world was like a shield against the pain coursing through his tortured muscles. He was almost at the top when he heard a creak of Carl on the ladder, and looking back down he saw his friend ascending the rungs.

He didn’t look as if he could make it up the hose by himself; perhaps his more recent ordeals had cost him too much. “Tie the hose round you, and I’ll pull you up mate”, croaked Dan as he looked down on the upturned face of his friend. So as he balanced on a rung, his left leg shaking from the stain, Carl carefully began to tie the hose to his waist. Until with a final jerk he gave a shaky thumbs up, with his free hand, hardly able to focus on Dan.

But with a look of horror Carl suddenly looked up, and Dan could see the ladder shaking, as if something else was ascending it. With a kick Carl managed to dislodge the ladder, as a slash appeared on his ankle. With a crash the ladder fell from the ledge and disappeared in to the mists below. And Carl swung free on the end of the hose, dithering at the sudden attack. But then he looked up; “Save yourself” he almost slurred his words, as he gazed at Dan’s pained eyes.

Realising he could never help his mate from where he was, Dan turned once more up towards the unreal patch floating above him. The tantalising portal was their only hope, and he fought his aching muscles as he inched his way up the hose. Until with a supreme effort, he touched the swirling blue membrane. The instant his fingers passed through, Dan felt the pull. And as if by instinct he let his tired muscles relax, as he was drawn up and out of Carl’s view.

With a thud Dan fell on the office floor, and he was once more at the mercy of his complaining frame. Despite this he began to drag on the hose, desperate to bring Carl home. Ever second seemed an eternity, far too long as Dan imagined the time passing on the other side. And he tried to push the image of the long dead corpse of Carl, that he would haul back through to him.

But only seconds had passed when a finger poked through; and in a tangle the two men fell across the floor. As they lay panting from their exertions, Carl turned to Dan. “I had to climb the whole way, it took me hours. What happened?” But all Dan could pant was, “Only seconds mate.” And with a final sigh Carl realised what had happened, and he chuckled. It’s infection spread to Dan, and they just lay there soothing their tired muscles in almost silent mirth.

After a while though, the two men dragged themselves up, and began to silently tidy the room. Until Dan turned to the wall once more and picking up a crumpled piece of paper, he threw it at the patch where they had so recently come through. It bounced off. He exchanged a look with Carl who shrugged. “Looks like it’s finally dry. We’d better go home”, Carl put on his watch and then following Dan through the door, locking up.

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