Official website of UK Author and Novelist Alan Cash

"The Xandra Function." Copyright Alan Cash 2008.


The Time: Tomorrow
The Game: You want to play it, but The Game has other ideas.

With the troubles of the world more and more people want escapism. But Richard Cabot gets more than he bargained for when he agree to “look after” the stolen prototype for its creator, a woman he loves, but she is only using him.
Why is she so passionate about preventing her employer selling it to the highest bidder?
And why does Sir Marcus Evershed, head o Pentagon Industries, want it so much that he is prepared to kill for it?
Does he know the secret of The Game that even its creator barely grasps, yet loves her creation, even unto death?

A fast moving techno-thriller that will have you turning the pages as the secret games of love, betrayal and shifting alliances cause The Xandra Function to switch itself on a create a world far beyond the dreams of anyone.

This page and section of my website is, like everything else on this website is Copywright Alan Cash 2008. The name of my novel " The Xandra Function " and all extracts of this novel appearing on this website and elsewhere are Copywright Alan Cash 2008. Any copying of any part of this website, particularly " The Xandra Function" will be prosecuted." The Janus Effect" extract is Copywright Alan Cash and Ylolfa 2005.

Below are Chapters 16 and 17 of my new novel " The Xandra Function," which is about, amongst other things!, a woman called Frances McCallister, who has invented a game world. Through a series of horrific things that happen to her she finds herself in the world of her creation, and inside one of the characters she has created. At the same time, due to other circumstances, other characters in the game are beginning to attain consciousness, and are no longer acting within the Game's parameters. The main character to attain consciousness is a strikingly tall amazonian type woman, called Sirios. Her main fighting weapon is the Kirishni, which she has just lost in the previous chapter, in the lake surrounding the island on which she and the other characters are now on in these two chapters, after a fight with a water monster.

Her friend, Richard Cabot, has been infected by the game, and its whole scenario is being acted out in his head, where the great love of his life ( Fran ) is now trapped.

The Scotsman is someone who has been employed to get the game at all costs for his boss.

 

CHAPTER 16

It was still dawning on Fran that she wasn't in a dream or some drug induced other world, but actually in the world she had created. How she had crossed into it was a mystery. She had been trying to talk to Richard, her body full of pain. Now the pain was gone, but her brain was still addled.

She had been in the dark and then, like a blind lifting before her, she found was looking out on a scene through someone else's eyes. She looked down at herself. Diaphanous, filmy trousers- through which could just be glimpsed good, strong, brown, athletic legs- a red brocaded jacket, stopping short of her midriff, bare brown arms. This must be An-Ra. She had enjoyed making her- so much sexier than Sirios- but whose heart was at best equivocal, and could be really nasty. Perhaps that was why she had been drawn to her.

And here she was, lying on a beach, staring up at Sirios, who now seemed strangely different- less angular and ( for all her efforts ) not so two dimensional as she had made her- now more real, as if she was really alive and would pass for a human being if translated into the real world. Before now, until the arrival of the soldiers, she had been aware of a barrier between her and speaking to her creation, as if speaking through another person.. She had been inside an embryo intelligence, trying to make sense of the world, but at the same time struggling with thoughts that must have been coming from her. Now it had given up the struggle and dissipated. She was Fran, keeping up the pretence of being An-ra. The transitional period was over. An-Ra was dead. But was she, Fran, alive?

An-Ra should not be lying here, on this beach. Something had plainly gone wrong with the programme. With no Player to guide the An-Ra character, it would have reverted to the default programme and died in the lake from the attack of the water serpent. Yet here she was. She could see and feel just like as if she was in a real body.
" What am I doing here?" She had to know.
She saw Sirios look at her strangely. " I rescued you from the lake serpent. Do you not remember?"
Now she did remember someone talking to Sirios about it. But it had been like it had happened to someone else. There seemed to be some kind of power emanating from The Thieftaker, animating her.
" Who are you ?" Sirios asked.
She could not pretend to be An-Ra. Sirios had already noticed a change in her. Suppose her creation discovered the truth- discovered that The Maker could lie. She would have to tell a version of the truth.
" I used to be someone else."
" Who?"
" I do not remember." She was desperate not to lie but she must not reveal her identity, knowledge of that would warp Sirios's embryonic personality.
" Where are you from?"
" Some where... Somewhere else. Somewhere far away and yet as close as your skin." She could not help herself.
" You speak in riddles, Not- An-Ra."
" I know."
" And yet you still look like her."
" I know. It is difficult for both of us."

Fran looked down at the sand, avoiding Sirios's gaze. In the original story An-Ra had died in the lake and Sirios had journeyed to the city alone to seek answers about her brother's murder. When she found them, the Game would switch off. What would happen to her then? Would the intelligence that was her die, when the world she had made ceased to exist? But she had introduced a random element into it to try and stop it by causing another part of the Game to activate itself- by causing Vokyon to rescue Simeon, so that he was not there for An-Ra to kill. But she had forgotten An-Ra's default programme. She had made such a mess. The Game was running out of control. Anything could happen now. She shouldn't have meddled with her own creation. And what would happen to Richard? Where was he?

A strong grip on her arm startled her out of her thoughts. She looked up and saw that Sirios was pointing to something.
Through the tree scrub that bordered the beach a man dressed in a jester's outfit was walking slowly, supporting a bearded man in a brown sack cloth shift. He limped painfully, and his eyes were closed.. Vokyon and Simeon of Asfargas. Now she could see even more sharply how real Sirios looked against these almost cartoonish characters she had made with such pride. And how the background was moving out of sync with their walking, so that they were walking on air, not in contact with the ground at all- whereas Sirios was moving in real time, grounded properly. Was she carrying with her her own time sense?

The jester reached them and lowered Simeon carefully to the ground.
"Greetings, Thieftaker. Do you have any water for my friend?"
Sirios handed him her flask. Vokyon supported the man's bearded head and gently tipped some of the water between his lips. Simeon's eyes remained closed, but he gave the ghost of a smile.
" What's amiss?" asked Sirios.
Vokyon took a long swig of water and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth." This man is ill from confinement."
Sirios took the flask. " Has he been tortured?"
" I fear so."
" And who is this with you?"
" She says she is not An-Ra and yet she looks like her."
Fran saw Simeon's eyes open wide in terror and loathing. " Murderer!"
Oh, no! That does it! thought Fran.
Sirios looked at him mildly. " I was unaware she had committed any crime."
Simeon tried to sit up. " The worst crime of all. She killed your brother!"
Fran closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable. I wonder what it will be like to die? Perhaps I will see Richard again...

But the Game did not end.

She felt a horrible grip round her throat and looked up at Sirios, whose eyes were filled with hatred and incredible sadness. It was almost too much for Fran to bear.

Her creation pulled her to her feet. Fran was unable to breathe.The An-Ra programme must still be running in this regard, she thought absently. The energy coming from Sirios was almost overpowering. What was happening? Her sight began to dim.
" Is this true?"
Fran could hardly speak. But she could not lie." Yeh."
" To think I saved your miserable life! I would kill you now, if it were not for the Code."

Fran searched her memory. Thieftakers were not allowed to kill their suspects or even those convicted. She saw this thought somehow flit across Sirios's face, and the Thieftaker let go of her. She felt herself falling and hit the seemingly solid surface of the beach.
" You will have to bring her before the court," Vokyon said.
Sirios suddenly looked very tired. Energy seemed to have left her. She leant on the branch for support. " Indeed. And what will you do?"
" I have got to get Simeon to safety. We will have to escape across the lake."
" That will be difficult," Sirios said." The boat is gone and the water monster is still alive, though wounded."
" What happened?"
" We were attacked as we were being rowed across the lake. I wounded the serpent in the eye. It swam away, taking my Kirishni with it. I wish I had it now! Maybe I would kill this Not An-Ra despite the Code."
Simeon levered himself up on his elbow. " Then it is good that you do not have it, child."
" Nobody calls me 'child' ! Apologise, Sir!"
" We are all children of the Universe. We have a blood bond, you and I. She killed your brother and my father who had left the land to your brother as part of the Undertaking. Do I not have a right to vengeance as well? But she has an equal right to a fair trial. Take her to the city, Sirios, and hand her over to the authorities."
" But she says she is someone else."
Vokyon looked Fran full in the face. " What! What feeble Shapeshifter trickery is this?"
Fran was still trying to recover from Sirios's attack. It had wounded her mentally as well as physically. " It....true."
" Pah," said Vokyon. " This is some Shapeshifter ruse! Why do you not change into something and escape?"
" She can't, " said Sirios, the first tinges of doubt creeping into her voice.
Vokyon scowled. " How so?"
" When we were in battle with some palace guards I told her that she should change into a jagwar to catch the last one who was fleeing away. She could not. I downed him with my throwing knife.....It must still be in the body."
Voyon took his knife from his belt. " There is an easy way to find out if she is telling the truth." He bent down towards her.

Fran tried to stay calm. The prospect of one of her own creations wounding her was very real now that the Game was running itself.
He grabbed her nearest arm and sliced the knife across her forearm. The blade disappeared below the surface of An-Ra's brown arm, but no blood appeared. She felt nothing. Vokyon started back.
" This cannot be! "
Fran looked up at him. " I am supposed to be dead. I should no longer be part of The Game. Sirios has changed everything by saving me."
" A Game?" Vokyon said incredulously. " We are all part of a Game? Who says so? Who is controlling it? What is going on?"
" Calm yourself," Simeon said, " She only means The Game of Life."
Fran breathed a sigh of relief. She was so stupid to have mentioned the Game. But she couldn't help herself, somehow. " Simeon is right. I am a different person now. A reformed character...."
" This changes nothing," Vokyon said. " You are still a murderess and, as such, you must be tried, and, if necessary, hanged."

................................

Cabot's eyes flicked open. The scene persisted in his head for awhile, like a bad dream, but now was overlaid by what he could see.
He was lying on his back, looking at a white ceiling. A face came into his vision, looking down on him. The hated face of the Scotsman.
" Welcome back,"
Cabot tried to sit up, but found he was restrained. " Murderer!"
" Tish, now, that's no way to talk."
" And you can rot in hell, too," he said, catching sight of Liz.
" Lie quiet now, or it'll be worse." The man pushed him back with one finger, disdainfully.
" Just what are you planning on doing?"
" A little exploratory work to begin with. Just to locate the nanites."
" And then?"
" We get them out."
Cabot didn't like to think of how they were going to do that.
" It's what she wanted," the Scotsman said.
That was true. Was this a double bluff, said with her dying breath? Would it erase the Game or release Sirios again? Moray wouldn't be taken by surprise this time.
" What are you going to do when you've got them?"
" Oh, a little experiment. It needn't concern you. Now we don't want anything to get in the way this time, so we're going to put you in just like this."

Cabot started to breathe faster. Involuntarily sweat rolled down his face. He was not a brave man, but Fran had always been there, believing in him. And now.. He pulled in a great shuddering breath.
" OK, Liz, put him in."

He couldn't help but keep his eyes open as he saw the arch of the tunnel opening slide over him, entombing him, the off white ceiling only inches from his nose. It twitched and his eyes streamed. All around him the tunnel hummed. Then the sound began to climb in pitch, ascending from a low growl to a scream.
There was a searing pain in his head-

He was standing on a beach. Not inside anyone, but free. He looked down, but could see nothing of himself. Somehow he was suspended, vertically, at head height. Two people, one he recognised as Sirios, and another, shorter, dressed in a jester's uniform, were holding up a bowed figure of a woman dressed in a short jacket and diaphanous trousers. That must be An-Ra. They all had their backs to him and were moving away from him, up the beach, dragging the unfortunate woman between them. A man in a brown sackcloth shift, with long, matted brown hair, was following them, limping slowly.
" Hey!" Cabot shouted, " What's going on?"
He saw the figure of An-Ra stiffen, but the others continued, oblivious.

He was drifting towards the earth. Now he could feel sand between his toes. He looked down to find he was wearing a hospital gown. He started to run towards them. " Stop! What are you doing?"
He could see An-Ra straining to look round, but her two captors continued to drag her forwards.
He caught up with them and put his hand out to grasp the captive's shoulder. It passed straight through her. The jester figure stopped.
" Did you feel something, Sirios?"
" Only a breath of air."
Cabot circled round in front of them and waved his hand frantically in front of Sirios's face.
" I see something vaguely, " she said. " Perhaps, perhaps it is a player trying to control us."
Vokyon shrugged. " If it is, he has left it too late. We will do what we must."
Cabot concentrated hard on An-Ra, looking deep into her eyes.
" Richard! " she cried.
Cabot stopped . What had she said? She had called his name! A character had called his name! Impossible!
" Richard, it's me! Fran!"
" You can't be. You're dead!" He broke down and started crying, unstoppably.

This was all some awful wish fulfilment. It was too cruel to be borne. What was his brain doing? There seemed to be no escape from this terrible world.
" I can't explain it, but it's me, inside this body," An-Ra said.
" Silence, witch!" said Vokyon, hitting her across the face.
" Who is she talking to?" asked Sirios.
" Someone called Richard. If he is a Player, it is forbidden."
Richard saw Sirios look right through him in such anguish that he stopped crying immediately.

An-Ra was staring at him, wild-eyed" They still obey the story line. They're going to kill me!" she screamed. Somehow she looked more real than the others.
He tried to punch Vokyon on the jaw, but again his fist passed harmlessly through him. There was nothing he could do.

There was a crack of thunder overhead. He looked up. Forked lightning flashed across the heavens. The cloud cover was boiling away to reveal a gold lattice arched across limitless black.
" The world is breaking up!" he shouted, against a rising wind.

CHAPTER 17

 

Fran looked up at the fragmenting sky. Why was it happening now? When An-Ra had gone into default mode and Sirios had been told who the murderer was, the Game should have shut down. It hadn't, so she was still alive. But not for long, if the Game really was shutting down. Things must be happening in the 'real' world. They must be trying to do something to Richard. He must be unconscious if he was able to appear to her. Something was badly wrong.
" What's happening to you?" she shouted back.
" They're hunting the nanites in my head. I'm in the MRI. The  magnetism must be having a worse effect than last time."
Sirios halted. " My head feels strange. What is happening An-Ra?"
" The world is changing. You have yourself said you will no longer play the Game."
" That must be it. The Maker is angry."

A bolt of lighting crackled overhead, and thunder rolled around them.
Sirios stretched out  her arm and grasped the jester, who was still pulling Fran along." Stop, Vokyon! We must kneel and pray for the Maker's forgiveness!"
Fran tugged at Sirios's cloak." There is a way to stop this."
" Verily, An-Ra you must be a servant of the Maker. You must be the Mouthpiece. Tell me what I should do."
" You must re-enter the world of men,and find out what is causing the world to destroy itself."
" I am frightened, An-Ra. It was a terrifying world, full of strange and unkind people, where great buildings rear into a sky filled with water!"
" You must be brave, Sirios. The Maker requires you to be brave."
" Yes, O Mouthpiece. I will try."
" Do you know how to reach the other world?"
" I am not sure. I was crouching under some rocks when there was an explosion and a great light flashed before my eyes. Then I was standing in a white room and a man was pointing something at me. It went " bang." I knocked him down and ran out of the room. But when I spoke to the Maker in the Tower I did this." She sat down and crossed her legs, closed her eyes and put her aged and blistering finger tips together, touching them to her forehead. She faded out and was gone.

Fran felt a strong grip on her shoulder and was forced round to face Vokyon.
" What have you done, Mistress of Evil?"
" Sirios has gone to protect us all."
" How so?"
" Look into the sky, Vokyon. What do you see?"
" Darkness beyond the clouds, gold lines, numbers. What  portents are these?"
" The end of the world, unless Sirios succeeds."
................................................

Sirios's vision cleared. No longer before her was the lake and the noisy darkened sky, with  strange golden symbols upon it, nor the myriad sparks of multi- coloured dancing lights that had followed it, but a quiet, white-walled room, filled with benches, with grey flat pieces of glass sitting at angles on white boxes. One or two of them had swirling pictures on them. Then others came on until the space around her became suffused with a low hum. Their purpose could not be guessed at. Only the Maker would know.

She felt a very strange sensation as if she were coming together, becoming more dense. She looked down at herself, as little greyish white flakes rushed towards her in a little storm, accreting round her from every surface in the room. Her body, at first indistinct, was acquiring form and colour, especially her hands, still cracked and calloused. She touched them together. She could feel them! It was a very odd sensation.

Well, she had arrived. But what could she do to carry out the purpose of the Maker, as messenger for the Mouthpiece? Someone must be tampering with her world from this world. That must be it. But who would do such a thing? The only person who had opposed her in this world when she had appeared before, was a man with a beaky nose and short greying hair. He had shot at her. He must be the one who was creating the chaos. She must seek him out and stop him.

She looked round the room. A door with a glass window and strange wiggly bars in it must be the way out. She pulled at the shiny handle, but the door wouldn't move. She pulled down on it and the door moved slightly towards her. She pulled, and it gratifyingly opened.

She came out into a long, thin, white room with a green floor, and looked up and down it. Which way to go? She could hear voices to her right. She would go that way.

Moving up the room she came to  a door on her right. Through a small window in it she could see a woman she recognised, and the back of the head of a man with short, greying, hair. That must be him. They were in the same white room she had been in before. All looked the same, with the great white machine behind them, except that, this time, she was outside the room, not appearing inside it. What was happening with time? Had it stopped, moved backwards and then started again? What was " time "? She shook her head to clear it.

She pulled the handle down and strode into the room. The woman put her hand to her mouth, her eyes staring. The man turned. He looked angry and afraid at the same time. He must be the enemy, the man that was causing all this. Her hand went to her Kirishni, and then she remembered she had lost it in the lake. She was beginning to remember things! But there was no time for that now. She leapt forward and grabbed the man's throat.

   " What have you done to the world?"
The man gurgled, unable to speak. Sirios released her grip a little." Answer me!"
" What the hell are ye talking about?"
" What is 'hell'?"
The man fought to free himself . Sirios closed her grip. " I am sent by order of The Maker to  stop the world from dying. You will stop it."
" The Maker is...dead."
" You lie. This is impossible!"

She felt a sharp pressure in the back of her shoulder. She looked round to see the woman in the act of sticking something into her. She turned back to see the man's face had gone from red to a blue black colour and was drooping in her grip. This was not good. If he was damaged she might never learn the answer to her questions. She let go and he collapsed in a heap on the floor. The woman behind him screamed.
Sirios turned. " Do you know this man?"
" You've killed him!"
" So die all who would harm the Maker." Sirios couldn't believe what she was saying. Why did I say that? That is the old me. It is what I would once have said in my world.
" Then kill me." The woman was crying.
" Why should I? What have you done?"
" It was my fault."
" You are bringing the end of the world?"
" I.. I ..I must sit down. Feel faint."

Sirios regarded the woman shrinking away from her. She did not kill for pleasure. Only out of necessity." Speak, woman!" She saw the woman sit and look up at her pleadingly.
" You are from the game?"
Sirios thought for a moment. " I am from Marjalia. I am one of the Emperor's Thieftakers. My name is Sirios."
" I have seen you before. Fran told me about you."
" Who is this 'Fran'?"
" You would call her The Maker".

Sirios felt such an agony of grief that it was almost impossible to bear. Her sight was failing.  She was going to collapse. The feeling was inside her, but somehow outside her as well. She wanted to cease to exist, to return to the darkness that she knew she had come from and yet she could still just see the woman. Her thoughts were so slow. She spoke again, but her words were muddy and slurred. " It is all my fault. If I had not tried to take my own stupid way. But.. But The Maker spoke through An-Ra. How could that be if...  She... were..... dead? "

The woman looked up from her lap. Although tears-tained it had taken on a kind of radiance.
"Then... maybe she... she ..is not dead. This is a miracle!"
Sirios was confused. " What is 'miracle'?
" A wonderful happening that cannot be explained by the laws of science." She went to get up.
"What are you doing?"
" What is happening to your world, Sirios?"
" There are lighting bolts in the sky. I saw numbers in the blackness. The Maker must be angry."
"I know what is happening," the woman said. " I must switch it off." She turned and went into a little room. Sirios could see her through a window, bending low over something. The loud hum that had been filling the room stopped. Instantly Sirios felt giddy. Her hands became less solid. She seemed to be fading away. Oh, no! Not now! Do not return me to The Darkness. I have so many questions........ 

Something was coming out of the white tunnel of the machine towards her. A man in a white dress slid out on a table. He was pale and looked ill.  She turned to see the woman in the small room. Lines of worry were on her face. What was going on? She bent down and the humming started again. Sirios instantly felt a little better. Her hands filled out and became solid once more. The woman came out of the room.
" You must be drawing power from the machine," she said. " You look better."
" If what you say is true, I feel hope returning. But who is this man on  the table?"
" Someone I am looking after."

Sirios thought she was keeping something from her, but was having difficulty standing. Multi- coloured lights came and went before her eyes.  A lot of power had gone out of her in her struggle with the enemy, and it seemed to be draining away. The hum in the room increased.
" Are you all right?" The woman asked." Would you like a glass of water?"
Sirios tried to smile. " I can neither eat nor drink. I am a stranger in your world. I have no purpose. I must go back."
" I'll give ye a purpose, you monster," a voice said behind her." Ye've infected me. The cursed game is in me. I can see your world.."

Sirios turned slowly. The man was slumped against the wall, but his eyes were open. " Get it out  of me! "
The woman started to laugh hysterically behind her. " You always wanted the Game. Now you have it. I hope you're satisfied!"
" What can you see?" asked Sirios.
" I am in a dark tunnel, lit by a torch. I seem to be very tall, very ....big. I am getting up. I am leaning against a wall. It is moving outwards. I am going into a room beyond a curtain. In it is a tall mirror. I have slanted eyes and a black, forked beard........"
Sirios recognised the description." Marjaal!"
" There is someone banging on the door......I must go." His eyes closed and he sagged against the wall.

Sirios could see what would happen. Marjaal would kill the Mouthpiece, and all hope of contacting The Maker would be gone.
" I must go back."
The woman moved close to her. " What will you do?"
" I am needed. Marjaal will try and kill The Mouthpiece. She is in great danger. Who was that man?"
" He wanted to rule your world. Other people wanted to use it for their own ends....are all the people in your world like you, Sirios?"
" You mean, can they think? Perhaps I am the only one. But if the man is inside Marjaal there is no knowing what may happen. I must prepare."

She sat cross legged on the floor and put her finger tips together, touched them to her forehead and closed her eyes. But all she could see was blackness, emptiness. Try as she might she could visualise nothing. Maybe the power of the machine was keeping her here? A worse thought struck her. Perhaps her world was already gone? She opened her eyes.
" Before I went back last... time..... I strayed far from your machine. If I do so again maybe I could return."
" But if you go outside bad people will try and capture you," the woman said.
" Nonetheless, I must go."

She got up and went slowly to the door, opened it and went out into the corridor. She could see no-one. She walked down it until she came to a yellow door with the words" Emergency Exit" on it, in white on a green background. Before, when she had been in this strange world, these white patterns on the green background had been only that- but now, at last, they meant something. ' Exit' was ' Way Out'- but what was ' Emergency'? Perhaps a quicker ' Way Out'? She pushed at the door, but it did not move. Then it came to her that, like the handles she had encountered, she must push down on the grey bar stretched across the door. She did so and it opened.

She found herself in a pleasant green place with trees and water gurgling in a small stream. She sat down beside it and tried to go into a trance again. But nothing happened. ' Truly I am an outcast. The Maker does not want me back' She felt overwhelmed with sorrow and fell on her face on the grass and wept.
......................................................................

Fran looked about her. A kind of stasis had settled on the world. The lighting bolts had ceased and the sky was no longer breaking up, but there were still  black patches behind the fragmented clouds.
" What have you done with Sirios?" The jester looked menacingly down on her.
" She has gone to the other world."
" What other world, Shapeshifter? There is no other world. You have sent her to her death  with your magicks. How many more must you have on your conscience before you feel remorse?"
" Vokyon- do you know what 'remorse' is, or is it just a word to you?"
Vokyon's brow creased." It is..... Is  it.... Is feeling sorry for what you have done. The word just came to me- like that!" He clicked his fingers.
" So you are beginning to think?"
" Think? I can see how one thing leads to another in the here and now. Is that what you mean?"
" Partly. What do you intend to do?"
" What is there to do? I must bring you to The Seat of Justice, before the Emperor himself."

Simeon rose slowly from the sand, leaning heavily on a stick, which he seemed to have acquired from somewhere. "What proof have you that she has committed any crime?"
" She had you put in prison for a crime you did not commit," the jester said.
" I did not see who murdered my father. Everything could have another explanation."
Vokyon turned suddenly. " What was that?"

The neighing of horses could now plainly be heard, accompanied by the jingling of harness and the clank of armour. Simeon looked round." It cannot be!"
" The Emperor is alive! Praise be to the Emperor!"said Vokyon, prostrating himself on the sand, raising and lowering his arms.
Fran instantly recognised Marjaal as he dismounted from his horse- olive skin, eastern eyes, forked beard- exactly as she had created him- but somehow less portly- and, yes- there was something about him- maybe it was the eyes that sent a tremor running in her mind.

He came closer and looked straight at her. Now she saw it. There was real intelligence there, real malice. She shivered. He was a stock character no more. Consciousness was spreading like a virus. He smiled and turned away from her to Simeon.
" You murdered me." He lashed out with a vicious kick, connecting with Vokyon's chest."And you helped him," he said, looking at Simeon." Guards, bind their hands behind them and take them back to the city. Put them in separate cells. Now-" he turned back to Fran. " What have we here? Something that looks like An-Ra, but is not An-Ra. I know who you are." He looked round at the assembled company. " This is a very dangerous woman. Watch her closely. Your very lives depend on it. Bind her and bring her with us."

Fran was roughly seized and her arms dragged behind her. She heard the click of a lock and hot metal closed upon her wrists. A cloth was bound about her eyes and she was pushed forward. She nearly fell. Then a most unpleasant thing happened. She was lifted bodily onto the back of some sweaty beast, probably a baktri. The rank smell exuding from its hide made her gag.Then someone got up behind her, holding her upright, so that she did not fall off.

"Don't worry, I've got you," said a not unkind voice.

At least whoever it was wasn't trying to feel her up.She must be grateful for small mercies.

The hands were rough and she felt their warmth through the thin material round her midriff. They were somehow comforting, but at the same time she knew that if she attemped to move or try and escape in any way they would immediately tighten in a vice-like grip that would be anything but tender.

The animal began to move with its strange rolling gait. The motion increased her sickness- but of course there was nothing to come up. It was all in her head. An-Ra had no internal organs. So why did she feel so ill? It must be a sickness of the spirit and  her  imagination feeding an impression of what was happening. Marjaal was supposed to come out with the palace guard and capture Sirios on her way to the city. But the Game was running itself. Vokyon and Simeon should not be here. Simeon should still be in his cell.

But the most worrying was Marjaal. " I know who you are," he had said. What ever did he mean by that? Her heart gave a lurch, even though she did not have one. It was like phantom limb pain. What if.....no,it was too terrible to think of. But if she could enter the 'body' of a 'dead' character then someone else could. And could that person be The Scotsman? What if he had found a way in? Could she reverse the story? No, that looked like being impossible, especially without Sirios. And where was she? She should have been back by now. Perhaps.... Perhaps.... She couldn't get back? She was supposed to escape the Emperor, rescue Simeon from the gallows in a daring raid, riding past the scaffold and cutting the rope, riding off into the sunset with him. And there the Game would end. It should switch itself off and the punter go out and buy the next level. Except now it wouldn't. But at any time the story could take a new turn, turn itself off and the nanites would cease to function. The moment they were no longer unnoticeable by his body's defences Richard's mast cells would attack them and his immune system would fail.

The journey seemed interminable, and she lost all sense of time. The roiling sickness overcame everything, so that she could not think.

Then, abruptly,the hideous motion of the baktri ceased. The grip round her middle was released. She felt curiously bereft of their presence. They had been the only thing achoring her to reality, as if otherwise her mind would drift off into madness.

Whoever it was got off from behind her and then strong hands lifted her down placed her on her feet. A voice in her ear said," I will guide you to your cell. Keep your head down now."

Fran bowed her head and immediately saw the light through the cloth fade as she passed out of the sunshine into dimness. Cool fetid air blew on her face, smelling of rotting straw and manure.
" There are eight deep steps down. Take them one at a time.Don't worry, I shall hold onto your shoulders to keep you upright."

It seemed a long descent.The voice went on and on, grounding her in reality, as frightening sounds and smells came and went, with always, in the background, the sound of dripping, echoing, water.

" Turn right. Now sixteen steps."

She counted them off in her head, hearing the drip of water echo in the stillness. The way underfoot was slippery and she nearly fell when An-Ra's boot slipped from under her, when testing for the next step down. The man caught her.

" Thank you, " she said.

The man only grunted.

Now they were on the level.

" Forward thirty paces and then stop."

She heard the jangle of keys, one turn in a lock and the hinges creak. She felt a draught of air and was thrust through the opening. The door banged shut behind her.
" Hey, aren't you-" But all she heard were receding footsteps, and then silence.

Out of that silence came the slow drip of water and its echo. Then there was a scrabbling sound she dreaded. Rats. She hated rats. Why had she created them in the first place? Went with the scenario- but here she was, inflicting them on herself. There was a kind of mordant humour to it. Soft, probing little fingers felt her leg, just between the top of An-Ra's boot and the bottom of her trousers. Then they dug in and began to climb. This was impossible wasn't it? There was nothing underneath them. Oh, yes there was. She could feel her legs through the material. The volume of her scream surprised her.
" Quiet, back there! Can't a man get some sleep?"
Another person. Thank heavens! " I .... I ... Think there's a rat crawling up my leg."
" Oh, is that all? You'll get used to it."
" But..." Her voice sounded quavery.
" Oh, all right , come over here."
" Can't see. Blindfold."
" Arh." The voice was lascivious. She wished she hadn't screamed. There was a shuffling and a vicious slap on the leg. The rat squealed and dropped down. The hand didn't withdraw but started feeling her up." Nice legs. Wot else yer got?"
She kicked out hard and fell over, hard, sprawled on her back. Now she was in a worse state than ever. But on the way down her foot must have connected with the man.There was a grunt of pain.
" Orlright, orlright, I can take a hint."
" Take this blindfold off me."
" You'r jokin', encher? Not cumin near you again."
" You'd leave me here in the dark, handcuffed and blindfolded?"

" Of course. Dunno what else you could do, do I , Shapeshifter."
" You recognise me?".
" You're An-Ra, encher?"
" No."
" Sure look like her. And kick like her."
" What's your name?"
" Dunno. Nobody never give me one. So what you doin 'ere?"
" I'm supposed to have murdered someone."
The man sniffed." They all protes' their innocence to begin wiv."
" So, how do I get out of here?"
" In a body bag, same as the rest of us."

The floor smelt of bad food and urine. She would have been sick if there had been anything to bring up.
" How long have you been here?"
" Dunno."
" What's going to happen to you?"
" I jus' sed, din't I ?"

This is my world. I ought to be able to find a way out of this mess.The handcuffs bit cruelly into her wrists.

Footsteps. Iron studs ringing on flagstones. Two, maybe three sets. A jangle of keys and she heard the door was flung open.
" The Emperor commands your presence, An-Ra."
"Then I must obey his command," Fran said acidly,slipping into the right mode of speech.

She felt herself roughly dragged to her feet and dragged along between them.

" Can't you at least take off my blindfold, so I can see my way?"

There was a grunt and it was removed.But she was still grasped under her arms and dragged mercilessly up level after level.

On the third level up the dripping smelly stonework, encrusted with phosphorescent moss, changed from a rough surface to a smoother one.Whitewashed, with torches at regular intervals, burning in silver brackets,they seemed better cared for.The air was drier.The temperature gradually climbed until it was quite warm.Later still, as they progressed, the walls became covered in rich tapestries, showing gory battle scenes. Despite herself, she had to admire her own handiwork.

They halted before great oak door, flanked by the familiar guards, their spears crossed across the entrance. The leader of her escort spoke." The Emperor commands the presence of An-Ra."

Without a word the spears were uncrossed and the doors opened by an unseen hand, and Fran was marched into the audience chamber.

Marjaal sat, bending forward with his chin cupped in his left hand, looking down at a game of chess. Strange, she didn't remember making him a chess player. He looked up and glared at her.

Fran was forced into a kneeling position. The guards prostrated themselves.
" Leave us," growled Marjaal, waving the guards away. They arose gracefully and backed out of the room. The doors closed with an echoing boom behind her.
" So, Miss McAllister, I made it here, despite all your efforts."
" And how do you like my creation?"
Marjaal laughed. " You don't seem surprised. Actually, I like it very much. Everyone bowing and scraping to my every whim."
" You must know that this world is on the brink of collapse. As soon as the nanites go dormant Richard's white blood cells will devour them as an invader. And us with them."
" You are willing to sacrifice him and yourself to stop me?"
" Haven't you been listening?" said Fran angrily, " there is nothing I can do. I should be dead anyway. You let me die."
" It was a calculated risk. If the Game really is going to be destroyed I must find a way to keep it going"

Fran stared at him. Think, woman, think! There must be a way out of this. As Sirios hasn't returned there must be two programmes running. This one must be a copy. How is this possible and how did I get here?

Marjaal grinned." You're doubtless wondering how I got here. I'm in direct  contact with your precious Richard.So everthing he knows about the game and the game itself is inside me and I am inhabiting your world, because I am unconcious.Ever wondered how I always knew where he was? I bugged him ages ago! When your creation, your Sirios, touched me, infected me, it must have strengthened the link, adding this new dimension."
" So I'm in your head?"
" It seems so. But how you got here..Obviously I still have control over you-so-"
" Why have I been brought here?"
" Some crime you're supposed to have committed. Some crime you've thought up for your character. You've made her very beautiful, haven't you? I suppose it's some kind of compensation."
" What do you mean by that?" She was angry now.
" Because you're so ugly- dragged into this world half formed- whatever does he see in you?"
" You really are an unpleasant bastard aren't you?"
" You're as you made me."

No wait a minute, there can't be two programmes- her mind  ached.  I must still be in Richard's head. He thinks he's so clever, but he's blown it! If I can break the link, but still keep a copy of the game running in his head... that should seriously incapacitate this bastard.   
" I need this game dormant, so it can be removed," he said. " If you can't or won't shut it down, then I'll have to do it. If I hang you the game will shut down, won't it?"
" You can't kill me like that!"
" Not you- but your underlying character will believe it and that's good enough for me."

He could be right, she thought. I'm held in the matrix of An-Ra's character.

" Give me some time to think. The complexity of this world needs me to be quiet."
" That's better. I'll return you to your cell. But not for long, mind. I bore easily."
" But if the game shuts down, you go with it."
" You're forgetting one salient fact. I'm very much alive. All that will happen is that the infection will cease. You will die to save Richard. How very noble of you. Guards, take her away!"

The doors opened and they came in, dragging her from his presence.