Chapter One
The warmth in the air was not unusual. No, even in the cellar the radiator could create such an effect. The feint glow of the light bulb, illuminated the dark, musty room. The cobwebs which must have frequented the room since it had been built looked no different. The dust in the air was just as asphyxiating as it had been for as long as Gideon could remember. The old man’s house had become his playground. It had almost become his home. No crevice or corner of the house was unfamiliar to him.
The house lies in San Diego, not to far off the Mexican border, yet far enough to warrant an English speaking school, with teachers who carried only partial Spanish accents.
The cellar in particular had a sentimental value. It held everything that nobody wanted. It held hundreds of old magazines that dated back over thirty years. It held old telephones that had long since been abandoned. Old kettles and kitchen appliances that had malfunctioned had found their way here. But it was not for this reason that Gideon so often found himself here.
The cellar was a sanctuary. The brutality of the outside world stopped at it's entrance, and as soon as Gideon had a spare moment, he would follow the long slope down that led to the cellar. He would look through the thousands of books that had been left on the floor, and would find one that grabbed his interest. He would then find himself on the old long-since-disregarded sofa, and sit and read the book in the faint light of the single globe.
But Gideon’s grandmother had died, and Grandpa had decided to sell the house. Gideon knew his pleas to Grandpa to keep the house would be futile. And why shouldn’t they be? He was a twelve year old. They were adults. Of course his opinion would count for nil. He flipped through the pages of the book like there would be no tomorrow. He knew that there would not be a tomorrow. Sherlock Holmes melted into Hercule Poirot, who in turn melted into Frodo Baggins.
The old grandfather clock read 11:58pm. In two minutes more he would need to return to his room. Tomorrow morning he would leave. He would return to the hustle and bustle of everyday life. It was stupid, he thought, to imagine that this fantasy would last forever. He always knew that this day would come. It hadn’t stopped him from becoming attached to the cellar, but maybe it should have. The grandfather clock struck twelve o’clock. Gideon turned to leave. He opened the door, and peered around once more to bid his final farewell to the room that had meant his life.
Gideon’s heart froze. In the middle of the floor there was a golden coil of light. The golden light spiraled seemingly through the roof, in the form of an alluring stairway. An elegant pattern seemed to decorate the stairway of gold light. It flashed periodically, almost daring him to ascend. It coaxed him, enticed him, lured him. For some unknown reason he knew he had to ascend. He should have been scared, instead he was curious. He started to climb the first step; he fully expected his feet to fall through the step crafted of light. It didn’t.
It seemed as though Gideon had been climbing for an eternity before the stairway ended. A small ledge marked the start of solid ground. He stepped off the spiral staircase, and onto the small ledge beside. A brass doorknob decorated an otherwise plain door. Gideon opened it.
The room was massive, hundreds of people of all shapes and sizes were hustling about. There was a constant chatter in the air. Gideon felt himself being shoved forward, as more and more people entered through the door from which he had entered. This was a strange prospect as the golden stairway had been completely deserted. Certain of the people seemed just as confounded as he was. The bustle of older, taller, larger people around him was intimidating to say the least. He seemed to be the smallest in the great hall by far. The majority of the crowd seemed to be sixteen, seventeen or eighteen. There were the few who were a couple of years older, and the one or two others who were a perhaps fifteen.
Tables lined the walls of the room. They were rapidly filling up with people. What was the harm in playing along? Gideon walked up to the nearest vacant table. By the time he arrived there was one seat remaining. He sat down, and felt a tap on his shoulder. The muscles of the person behind him were colossal.
“Hey punk,” he said, “I don’t know if you want to be here.”
Gideon took the hint and left without a word. The room, he realized, as he saw an opening to the right was “L” shaped. There were far fewer people around the bend. He turned the corner and the change of atmosphere was immediately noticeable. Everyone seemed more relaxed, and perhaps more unsure of themselves. Few tables were occupied. Those that were had at least four empty seats around them, a prospect that suited Gideon far better. He did not think he would attract much attention here at all.
He took a seat at a vacant table. Nobody so much glanced at him. Gideon knew he should be frightened, but he wasn’t. He did not know what was happening, but he wasn’t missing home. Why should he be? His mother had been refused custody over him, a fact largely owing to her heavy alcohol consumption. His father’s arrest may have been the cause for this. Only his Mother’s father remained back home. He was, by Gideon’s standards, the only sane member of his family. It was just his luck that he ended up stuck with such a raw deal.
He looked at the table at which he sat; it was an obvious cherry wood – an expensive material from which to craft so many tables. The chairs, he noticed, as he studied the vacant place beside him, were crafted of a carbon-fiber frame, onto which several cushions had been stitched.
“Mind if I join you?” Gideon whipped around startled. He jerked himself out of his stupor. There was a boy standing behind him. He was younger than most of the others.
“Sure,” Gideon said. If this kid didn’t sit down someone likely far more unpleasant would.
“Thanks,” the boy said, “I’d much rather sit with you than one of them. By the way, I’m Aaron.”
“Gideon,” he said. He wasn’t yet sure if he liked Aaron yet. He seemed nice enough, but seemed to be a talker – not too harmful a trait if he listened as well. “What is this place?”
“No idea,” Aaron said, “I thought I was the only one who didn’t know.”
“Well, how did you get here?”
“I don’t know,” he said, “I woke up, and left my bedroom to get a glass of water, and found myself here. I don’t know why or how I got out of my pajamas, but compared with the rest of this stuff, that is not an overly complicated riddle. It's quite startling really, but it'll have to go really bad for me to start crying.”
“Yeah I know,” said Gideon, “I keep thinking I’ll wake up tomorrow, and this’ll all be over. Anyway, I’ve had worse dreams, perhaps not as wild ones though.”
“Well, I think we’re about to find out what all of this is about,” Aaron said. He pointed behind Gideon. Gideon looked.
A massive screen had been revealed, the mahogany curtains that had hidden it had been drawn, and the screen showed a flicker of light.
“Please would everyone take a seat – we will be commencing in five minutes,” a voice boomed over all of the murmuring.
People started to scurry towards their seats, the remaining six places at Gideon’s table were occupied. It seemed that aside from two of the places at the table, Gideon’s table became occupied with the youngest of all the people in the room. He supposed the reason for this was two-fold: He supposed that few of the older crowd would want to associate themselves with him or anyone younger and therefore inferior… On the other hand, Gideon supposed that his table attracted the crowd it did because like him, the youth would likely be intimidated by those older.
Aaron sat at Gideon’s right. A fairly tall boy, with the slight of a moustache sprouting sat to Gideon’s left. Conversation had begun to fade fast. The lights dimmed, the massive screen went white.
“Most of you know the drill,” the voice said. It seemed to be projected out of nowhere in particular. Its owner was the man on the screen. He looked to be in his mid fifties, and his hair was almost completely gray. He kept a triangular goatee neatly trimmed; he wore faded jeans with a plain white t-shirt, “For those of you who don’t, allow me to enlighten you. Look around you. These walls represent the boundaries of the common hall. Few ever enter this so called ‘common’ hall so count yourselves lucky. I would like to invite anyone of you to leave now. If you do not, you may not be able to return home for a long time. If you stay you are making a conscious decision to become a part of this elite group of the human race. If any of you wish to leave, you need only exit through those doors, and your homes will be waiting for you.”
No one moved. Gideon knew that nobody would. He was, as he knew many others might be, tempted to leave the room, if only to show the man on the screen up. But he, like the rest of the room, succumbed to his curiosity. The man’s toothless grin was too enticing to want to escape.
The man seemed eccentric to say the least. His normal choice of clothes heavily complimented his peculiar personality, and only served as another feature that made him such an intriguing character. His confidence was not arrogant, yet no person alive for less than a hundred years should have been able to carry it. The man’s expression indicated that he was about to continue.
“Cool trick that one,” the man said, “It works every time.” There were several giggles, but for the most part the morose silence remained, “In all of my years doing this job, I have yet to find one person who will actually take my offer, and leave.
“But, moving on to more important and relevant matters…” the man paused dramatically. The hall’s atmosphere was serene; silent.
The massive screen quivered. The picture blurred. The screen shattered into a million pieces. Many people jumped to their feet. Many others were frozen in shock. There was no one in the room who seemed to be fully in control. Gideon impulsively dropped to the floor, and rolled into a ball beneath the table. With what seemed like no cause, he called for the rest of the table to follow suit. He did not know why he did so, but he knew he must drop. It was impulsive. His table had followed his lead.
“What are we doing hiding under the table?” Aaron asked, Gideon barely heard the question.
There was a massive Bang. There was a flash of light; fire. The ground shook. Glass flew through the air. Gideon couldn’t breathe.
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