ISOF by Pete Townsend Page B

hand.
    â€˜Off you go,’ instructed Pinchkin firmly. ‘Be about your business.’
    Ben could just discern the sound of somebody shuffling along the corridor accompanied by a scraping noise, like something being dragged. Squirming his head free of Pinchkin’s cloak, he was able to see the dark outline of a figure retreating around the corner of the corridor, all the time making a discordant, rasping humming sound and dragging what looked suspiciously like a spear behind it. After a few moments, Pinchkin moved forward to release Ben from his temporary confinement against the wall. Turning around, she placed a finger against her lips in warning. With a quick jerk of her head, she beckoned Ben to follow along the corridor.
    After walking a few paces, Pinchkin looked up and down the corridor. When she was confident that there were no other beings around, she took Ben by the shoulders.
    â€˜Pay attention,’ she said firmly. ‘This isn’t some game you’re playing now!’
    Ben looked at her stern face, puzzled both by her comment and how she’d dealt with the creature he assumed was a guard.
    â€˜How did you,’ he began, pointing back along the corridor. ‘And how did you know…?’
    Pinchkin placed a finger against his lips. ‘Quiet, now, she smiled. ‘Some things will only become clear over time, and others,’ she shook her head. ‘May never become clear at all.’
    Ben, his finger still pointing along the corridor, frowned. ‘But that thing you did with the creature, I’ve seen that done before.’
    Pinchkin examined Ben’s face. ‘How?’ she asked. ‘Where have you seen mind massaging before?’
    â€˜I don’t know about the mind massage stuff,’ explained Ben. ‘But making creatures think what you want them to think, that was in
Star Wars
.’
    â€˜
Star Wars
?’ replied Pinchkin, totally bewildered.
    â€˜Yeah,’ grinned Ben. ‘I’ve got them all on DVD, including the prequels.’
    â€˜DV what?’ asked PInchkin. She shook her head. ‘Don’t bother trying to explain,’ she said. ‘We haven’t time, come along.’
    They walked along in silence. The gloom of the corridor seemed to go on forever, only broken occasionally by spluttering firebrands held to the wall by rusting chains. As he stumbled along, the rough floor seemed intent on bruising Ben’s feet as he struggled to keep up with Pinchkin.
    In between the firebrands, the roof and walls streamed with water, causing small pools to form in the uneven surface of the floor. Every now and again, the monotonous stone sagged inwards to reveal a crude, rough-hewn door. Each door boasted a tiny steel shutter set at eye-level and a simple lock keeping inquisitive strangers from satisfying their curiosity.
    Pinchkin still strode confidently ahead. Ben was amazed at the speed with which her feet carried her across the floor. She didn’t hesitate at junctions in the corridor or seem to be affected by the lack of light. At yet another junction, Ben managed to tug Pinchkin’s cloak.
    â€˜Are we there yet?’ he gasped, his ribs beginning to ache with both the effort of keeping apace with Pinchkin and the rough handling he’d had taking him to the cell, even though he couldn’t remember a thing about that. Pinchkin paused briefly and gave him a patient smile.
    â€˜Almost,’ she said reassuringly. She ruffled his hair. ‘But don’t you be too eager to get there,’ cautioned Pinchkin. ‘Because once there you will need to be elsewhere, and then,’ she said solemnly, ‘you’ll eventually arrive where you first started.’ Again Pinchkin didn’t wait for Ben to comment but hurried forward into the consuming gloom.
    Ben felt totally confused. He couldn’t pretend he understood anything that was happening to him or what was being said. He ran to catch up