"Come boy, with me."

Fordo had found himself sitting in the courtyard after tea that day. He had brought with him The Communist Manifesto, deciding that it was particularly significant to his current location and placement therein. So he had been sitting on a bench, the cold autumn wind blowing through the tree above, when his attentions had been stolen by that voice.

He looked up to see a girl, perhaps two years his elder, beckoning him away from his bench. Other admits to the Centre were frolicking in the courtyard, so, hoping his movements would not be detected, he got up and followed cautiously. She led him behind a shed that sat in the corner of the courtyard. The whole while she had been acting as though she had not called him forth. However nhow she turned and looked him straight in the eyes.

You are Fordo Summers, are you not, boy? Her lips had not moved, but the voice was there.

"Did you-"

Don't speak. They can hear your words.

"So how-"

Just think. It's not hard.

Fordo closed his eyes. Wh-Who are y-you?

Do you mean to stutter?

I'm n-not st-stuttering.

You're trying too hard, but that doesn't surprise me. I know what you are.

Wh-What d-d you m-mean? He couldn't easily hold his thoughts. Doctor M-Moscoe--

Moscoe is a prat who doesn't realise children are not rats. Anyone who believes him is more foolish than any one of his experiments.

S-so you know wh-what's wrong with m-me?

Nothing is at all wrong with you, Fordo. You're perfectly fine.

Then why am I he-here?

You are here because you are different. He looked at her, utterly confused. She sighed. There's no time for that now. Hear this now: there is one way out and one only. However, it can only happen once a week and that's two days from now. She handed him a deck of cards. These will tell you all you need to know. Hold them to the light of the stars tonight and the secret will unfold. He took the deck and stared at it. Now go! They cant' see you here. She pushed him towards the world.

But I d-don't even know your name!

That doens't matter! Go!

Then she pushed with all her might, flinging Fordo again into the Uracilian world. He was again aware of the children playing in the courtyard, the cleanliness, the unmitigated secrecy. He headed towards the bench, pocketing the cards and attempting to seem as nonchalaunt as possible. Briefly, he glanced over his shoulder for the girl, but she had vanished. Suddenly Fordo realised he was staring and his pace had ceased. Thus he turned from the sight and returned to the bench and his book.


Fordo waited until the hall outside the door was silent for him to get up. He moved quietly and quickly, overly concious of any noise he made. He reached the window and removed the deck from his pocket. He sat in the sil and pulled out the first card in the deck, holding it against the light.

Friday. 9 pm. 3rd corridor. Fifth door on left.

That was all it said. Fordo searched the rest of the deck, but to no avail. So he sat, looking at the moon and puzzling over the cards and the strange, disappearing girl.