A group of men stood behind a protective bank of sandbags in front of a low band of hills that ran across the desert. They wore white dust coats and safety hats. One of the men reached down for the electronic detonator control. He pulled up a handle and pushed it back down.

"Now?" he asked, looking at Tony.

"Now," Tony Mogul said.

The man pushed a red button, and the hill exploded in a great cloud of dust and flying rocks.

A few minutes later, a miner returned with a sample of rock in his hand. It was placed in a machine that played a laser light across it. The men watched a screen intently.

"One percent. This ore contains one percent of platinum. That's phenomenal," Graham Marshal said, looking up in awe.

"One percent platinum," Tony Mogul said. He grabbed Graham by the shoulder. "And you found it for me, Graham. I won't forget that," he said, nearly dancing with excitement.

A man from the press wrote furiously in his notebook. "Mr. Mogul, Can we quote you on that? One percent?"

"You can quote me as saying, that this is the richest platinum strike in the world, and that Mogul Mining now leads the rest. Your Editor will just love that. Gentlemen, the drinks are on me."

One of the technicians looked at his friend. "Good heavens. He must be happy. He's shouting us a drink," he whispered with a smile.

--o--

Thirteen year old Steven Marshal led the pack of BMX riders down the footpath and came to a stop in front of his gate with a stylish slide out.

"I won't be long," Steven told his mates as he took the front stairs two at a time. "I'll just let Mum and Dad know where we're going."

It wasn't to be. The best-laid plans of kids are subject to the whims of parental approval.

"Steven, your Father and I are going shopping for an hour or so, You'll have to look after Frankie until we get back," his mother, Margaret Marshal, said.

"Why me? Why can't Merle look after him for once?" Steven complained bitterly.

"Because I'm on duty at two o'clock, and Doctor Potter doesn't want me to be late," His sister said, rummaging through her bag for the keys to her motor scooter. She clacked them in her fingers in front of his nose. "Brat, look after little brat." and swept out through the front door.

"All the kids are expecting me at practice," he whined.

"That's enough, Steven," his father snapped. It was his hard, no nonsense tone. "I'm home this weekend, so don't think you'll be able to wiggle round your mother and get whatever you want. Savvy?"

"Yes, Dad," Steven said with a suitably subdued voice.

"Actually, while we're out, you can clean the back of the Toyota. It's a mess," Graham Marshal said. "Wear some old clothes. Leave my geology tools alone, especially the Geiger counter. You may find a couple of interesting rocks while you're at it."

"Dad, can you get me a video?" Frankie asked.

"No, Frankie, Too much money being spent on them already. Your mother and I will be back from the shops in an hour or so. O.K? You ready, Dear?"

"Yes, Bye, boys. See you when we get back. Look after everything, Steven, and don't let Frankie raid the ice cream."

Steven told his friends Ronald and Harris the bad news, and watched them cycle off. His father backed the Volvo carefully onto the twisting side street. "See you in an hour, son," he said with a grin.

Steven stood and watched his father and mother drive off.

---o---

"If his face was a thundercloud, we'd be in for one hell of a storm," Graham said to Margaret.

"We did spring it on him," Margaret said.

"Rubbish. Kids have just got to learn to do what they're told," Graham said, turning into the main highway. "We always had to defer to our oldies."

"He always goes to BMX."

"Well I'm home this weekend. You're always complaining I don't see enough of the kids," Graham said with a smug grin. "Can't do that if they're out racing, can I?"

"Hmmm," Margaret said, "I know we'll all be glad when this damned mine gets opened. We may get to see you every day then."

"Yes, dear. Sometimes the family seems to forget that these damned mines are what pay for Volvos and family swimming pools," Graham said somewhat ruefully.

---o---

"You've got to look after me," ten year old Frankie taunted.

Steven wandered into the living room in his oldest jeans and an old tee shirt. "I've got to clean out the back of the Toyota. You can sit up here and watch the television. What have you got, anyway?" He looked at the pile of cassettes. "The usual - cartoons."

"I've seen them all," Frankie complained.

---o---

The back of the Toyota was a mess. It always was, when Dad got back from his numerous field trips. He wasn't like most fathers. More out than in. Sometimes he'd be away for weeks. Then he'd arrive home like a whirlwind and set everyone on their ears.

Like today.

Steve always went to BMX practice on Saturdays. Mum knew that. Anyway, Frankie could look after himself. He was ten, after all, even if he did sound like a baby with his stupid head cold.

He was just finishing with the broom, when Frankie appeared down the steps, grinning like a cat that had discovered the cream. Steven looked at the telltale chocolate smear round his brother's mouth. "You'll bloody cop it when Dad comes home," he said. "You know you were told to keep out of the ice cream."

"He won't know," Frankie said smugly, wiping the evidence away with the sleeve of his Tee shirt.

"I'll tell him," Steven said, simply.

Frankie looked at him, uncertain. "You wouldn't, would you?"

Steven smiled to himself. It wasn't often he got his little brother squirming.

"I only tasted a little bit," Frankie said. "Hardly any."

"Doesn't matter," Steven said, nonchalantly. "You know Dad."

Frankie watched his brother put away the cleaning gear and tidy up the various items from the Toyota. "You're not really going to tell, are you?"

Steven grinned at him and whistled a taunting little tune. Then decided the joke had gone far enough. "No. You didn't bring me any, though," he grinned.

I've seen all the videos." Frankie said. "Why not get another one?"

"I've only got two dollars," Steven admitted. "Have you got any money?"

Frankie nodded vigorously. "I've got three."

Steven paused for a few moments. "Aw, I don't know, Frankie. Mum and Dad said I had to stay here and look after you."

"They didn't say we couldn't go and get a video."

It wasn't hard to rationalize around the decision. "O.K. It isn't far. Let's lock the house up and go," Steven decided. "We'll only be a few minutes."

---o---

They parked their BMX bikes outside the shop and entered the air-conditioned fantasy world of dreams in boxes.

"What about 'Mechobots and the Ice-Men', Steven?" Frankie asked.

"Aw, God. You and your bloody Robot Trucks. It's all crap. Get a good one - not a cartoon. What about 'Space Pirates'?"

Frankie was in a more cooperative mood. Perhaps the revelation of his ice cream indiscretion was still hanging over him. "I'm carrying it home," he announced.

---o---

They rode away from the shop, demonstrating a few classy BMX stunts over the footpath to the irritation of the shoppers. They were good riders. Both were careful on the road. Perhaps it was the one handed hold on the video box that caused it.

The accident happened so quickly, that nobody had a really clear view of what occurred, except that a pothole in the bitumen sent Frankie flying across the laneway into the path of Mrs. Simpson's Station Wagon. As Steven watched in horror, Frankie flew up into the air, still clutching the video. Mrs. Simpson's car slued across the roadway into oncoming traffic, and Frankie's terrified scream was cut short by a dull thud as he hit the roadway. Steven's shout was drowned by the crump of impacting vehicles.

The next half hour was a nightmare of flashing red and blue lights, sirens, and questions.

Steven was glad the constable stayed with him. He watched the policeman talking to his parents, and saw the withering look his father directed at him before he drove off with Margaret to the hospital.

---o---

Graham and Margaret sat for what seemed an eternity on the hard wooden seats of the off-white waiting room, until the surgeon came down the corridor towards them.

"How is he, Doctor?" Margaret asked.

"Would you both like to come into the office, and we'll talk about it there," he said kindly.

Graham put his arm around Margaret's shoulders and led her inside.

It was more a cubicle than an office. They squeezed into the chairs and held their breaths and emotions in check as the doctor looked at the X-rays.

"His injuries appear to be very severe. There is very bad damage to the front of Frankie's brain, I'm afraid. We've controlled the internal bleeding, and relieved the pressure. At this time, I'm afraid there's not much we can do, but wait and see.

"I want to see him," Margaret demanded.

"That's not really wise at the moment, Mrs. Marshal. He's in intensive care - recovery. I'd rather you went home now, and came back in the morning. He'll be stronger, then. The less he's disturbed now, the better."

"Will he be all right?" Graham asked. "I mean - when he recovers?"

The doctor looked sadly at them. "He has very severe brain damage, Mr. Marshal. Perhaps we should discuss the consequences of that later."

"I want to know the worst now," Graham demanded.

The doctor looked uncomfortable for a moment, then picked up the X-rays. "Very well, Mr. Marshal," he said.

---o---

Merle and Steven sat watching TV without interest. They heard the car enter the garage. Merle looked at Steven and raised her eyebrows. She said nothing. Steven watched as his father steered Margaret to the bedroom. There was a buzz of conversation, then silence. Graham entered the lounge room.

"How is he, Dad," Merle asked.

Graham turned and looked at them. He pointed to Steven. "You. Get to bed right away, because if I have to look at you, I'm not going to be responsible for what I do."

Steven stood in silence and went directly to his room. It wasn't the time for back answers.

He closed the door of his room, and sat on the edge of his bed in the darkness. The light from the street shone through the venetian blinds, striking bars of black and white across his face. It wasn't fair. He heard the sound of his father entering the master bedroom and closing the door. There was a silence for a while.

Merle knocked quietly and came into the room. "Frankie has severe brain damage. He will be crippled and subnormal for the rest of his life, if he recovers at all. I don't want to see you again either."

She shut the door, and Steven sat unmoving on the bed. He felt as if he was on the planet Mars thousands of miles away. A single tear trickled down his cheek.

---o---

They waited for better news through the next week, and the next. Margaret visited the hospital day after day, for hours on end, leaving Merle to attend to whatever needed to get done. Steven had to help out with the domestic chores. Graham had to return to the mining lease.

"I've taken as much leave as I can, Love. We need the money. You know I have to go back out. I'll be back next weekend. I'll ask the company to let me know by radio if there's any news. You've only got to get in touch with them."

She nodded. Graham was like that. The Company came - not first, exactly, but equal first.

---o---

"Why can't I visit him, if Merle's allowed to go?" Steven asked.

Merle and Margaret looked at him, almost vacantly.

His mother's voice had lost its strength. She seemed miles away. "Because the doctor says you can't," she said softly.

Merle said nothing. She merely took Steven's hand, and squeezed it in a funny way - affectionately - but said nothing.

---o---

From the corner of the street, he watched as the Volvo entered their yard. He knew that his mother was home from the hospital. She wouldn't guess in a million years what he planned.

---o---

He parked his bicycle in the racks provided for visitors, and locked it carefully. The receptionist hardly looked at him as he asked the way to Frankie Marshal.

"Ward six, surgical," she said. He followed the signs and took the lift to the ward. It was quiet. The sister was not at the nurse's station, but a junior nurse gave him the room number when he asked.

"Frankie? Private four on the left," she said, pointing with her finger.

The number was on the door. Nobody was around, so he walked in.

At first, he thought he had the wrong room. There was something on the bed. It was a kid. A funny kid, with a bent spine, arched back. The kid's legs were curled, and his arms bent inwards, thumbs poking through the centre of his fingers. His head was shaved. tubes ran into his nose and one arm. The eyes rolled around and around, never stopping. Suddenly, the kid turned his head towards Steven. There was a flash as if of recognition.

Steven's blood ran cold. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. The room seemed to sway. He felt a warm flush over his whole body. Nausea hit him, and he felt himself falling and screaming.

The travesty of humanity staring at him was Frankie.

---o---

"No trouble with Sacred Sites this time round?" Graham asked as they walked back towards the Toyota Utility.

His boss, Anthony Mogul, better known in the company as 'Tony', laughed. "Nope. Not one. When they found out the royalties they'd be getting with this platinum strike, the traditional owners came to the party with the Land Council very quickly. This is one mine they want badly."

"I'm glad of that," Graham said with relief.

"Well, we made a good deal with them. Your work paid off, Graham. Got a patent on it?"

"Background Radiation Contour Surveying. I'm not sure it can be patented, but I've written the papers on it. Hello, what's this?" he asked, picking up a small stone from the ground. "Well, blow me down if it isn't a Tektite."

"Oh. Let me have a look."

Tony turned the small rock over in his hand. "You can see the ablative area where it's come through the atmosphere. A good specimen. Thanks, Graham," he said, pocketing it.

Graham felt a bit annoyed. Tony was the boss, and by rights owned every stick and stone on the lease. There wasn't much he could do about it.

"Actually, I was hoping I could give it to my son ... " Graham muttered.

There was a silence for a second. Tony relented. "Oh - sure, Graham. Didn't mean - "

He handed the small stone back. In a way, the gesture was uncharacteristic. He was a hard, many would say, 'ruthless' man.

"Thanks, Tony."

"How is the little fellow?"

"Not much change."

"I've been meaning to ask you. Would it help if you got a town posting for a while?"

"The camping allowances make it worth my while to stay out here, Tony. Quite frankly, I need all the money I can get right now."

They walked on. A cloud of dust appeared on the road as a service utility approached. It drew up near the men.

"Hello, Ed. What's up?" Tony asked.

"Urgent phone call from Mrs. Marshal. Can you contact her, Graham?"

Graham bounded for their other four-wheel drive car, but Tony reached it first. "I'll drive, Graham," he said firmly, slipping behind the wheel.

---0---

The Ward Sister was furious with the young nurse. "What on earth was the matter with you - letting him see his brother like that?"

"How on earth was I to know he'd react?" she replied defensively.

"Christ, girl. You know what that kid looks like. I've watched hardened doctors ..." she didn't finish. "Get him another cup of tea," she snapped, "And make it sweet."

Steven lay on the couch wrapped in a blanket. The oxygen mask felt stuffy.

"There, there, now," the Sister said, You'll feel better in a moment. Your mother is coming to get you."

"Can I take this off?" Steven asked.

"Oh, sure. It's just that you fainted. Oxygen's good for that, you know. You came to the right place. Nothing like a hospital ward for a good faint, I always say," the Sister said breezily.

"He's my brother."

"Of course. I understand. It would have been better if you'd come with your mother. Someone to prepare you," she said, kneeling beside him and offering him the sweet tea. "Drink this - slowly. Sister's orders."

"It's just that - well, I knew he was brain damaged, but I didn't expect - "

"Most people never know. In the movies, they lie back nice and clean with a bandage round their head and that's brain damage. In real life, they lie in the fetal position - with all that plumbing. It doesn't make good television."

"Will he always be like that?"

"I don't know. Sometimes, they get a bit better. As the swelling goes down and the brain sorts itself out. It takes a while."

Steven sat up. "It's all my fault," he said desperately. "I was supposed to be looking after him, but we went for a video. That's how it happened. It's all my fault. I should have stayed at home!"

He pushed the Sister away and stood up, looked about anxiously, and ran from the room. The Sister made a grab at him, but missed. She took a deep breath to gather her professional self together and grasped the telephone.

"Security," she said.

Steven eluded them. It wasn't as if he planned it that way. He ran from the ward and down the nearest flight of steps. He was out of the building before anyone could even begin to search for him.

---o---

"There was nothing we could do," Sister told Mrs. Marshal when she arrived.

"He'll probably get home by himself quite safely once the shock has worn off," Mrs. Marshal said.

But he didn't get home that night, and by eleven o'clock, she called the police. They didn't find him either, so she had called the company and asked them to contact Graham.

---o---

Steven sat on their favorite chair in the park by the beach and watched the gray water swirling under the gray clouds that matched his mood. The seagulls cawed mournfully against the white caps curling over the waves.

There was a sudden presence in the seat beside him. "Hello, old chap."

He turned. "Dad!"

His father's hand shot out and grabbed him fiercely, holding him to him in a firm, but loving grip. "I thought I'd find you here," Graham said, cradling Steven's head in his hands.

He could have said all sorts of things, like "Your mother's been sick with worry," but he didn't. He just held Steven close.

"I should never have blamed you," Graham said, when they both got over it. "It was just an accident. After all, you and Frankie rode everywhere. Didn't you?"

"Yes. I did feel guilty, though."

"Maybe we've been blaming ourselves too much. No. It's just one of those things God sends to test us."

"I thought you didn't believe in God?"

Graham gave a wry smile. "He's easy to turn off when we don't need him."

"Yeah. I guess."

"How about we phone your mum and take in a movie, eh?"

"Great."

---o---

In a few more days, there was some improvement with Frankie. He could be fed by mouth, and was able to breathe without assistance. Margaret and Graham decided to bring him home to more familiar surroundings.

The Hospital authorities weren't happy about their decision, but relented and discharged him.

"Perhaps he will improve in the more familiar surroundings of home," Doctor Wherry said breezily. He didn't believe it.

"I'm determined to nurse him myself," Margaret said.

If it kills you, Wherry thought. We'll have you both in here.

"Good luck then," he said, smiling tightly as he watched the ambulance drive away.

---o---

They had prepared a room for him; a bean bag to sit in when his bedclothes were changed; rubber base sheet; lots of spare sheets; near the open window, so he could see out; no need for drips now, or rubber tubes; he could swallow, if fed carefully.

Steven watched his mother "cope". She hoisted Frankie off the bed to the bean bag and changed the sheets, then laid him back carefully.

Frankie's eyes rolled in his head. "Graaang!" he said.

"I'll soon have you on your feet, young man. I'm determined you'll take me skating before the year is out," she said bravely.

Frankie watched the gold fish bowl and Clarence, its sole occupant as it swirled around and around. Sirikit, the Siamese Cat, jumped up with a loud miaow and poked a paw into the bowl.

"Get Sirikit out of here," Margaret said. "Or she'll have Clarence for tea."

"Sure," Steven said, picking the cat up and shooing her out of the door.

Margaret handed Frankie the rubber ball he'd been given for his fingers. "The physiotherapist says this will help keep his hands straight," she said. Steven felt his brother's other hand. The fingers felt long and sensuous under his touch.

"I never realized just how long Frankie's fingers were," he told his mother. "I wonder if he'd like this. Dad gave it to me," he said, showing his mother the tektite.

"No. Don't give him that. He might put it in his mouth."

"He seems to like looking at it," Steven said, waving it in front of Frankie's eyes. "Hey Mum, you notice how Frankie's eyes are starting to focus, now?"

It was true. Frankie had his eyes fixed on the small stone. He seemed fascinated by it. He smiled and gave a happy gurgling sound as he watched it.

Margaret put her hand on Steven's shoulder and held him tightly as she watched. "You're right. Tell you what. Put it in the goldfish bowl with Clarence. Then he can watch both of them."

The tektite slipped to the bottom of the bowl. As the water covered it, it took on an opalescent hue, sparkling in the light.

"It sure looks pretty," Steven said. "Look, Frankie. That little stone came all the way from Space. See it?

Margaret put her hands on Steven's shoulders. They stood and watched Frankie for a few minutes.

"Hope he stays dry for another couple of hours," Margaret said.

They left the room quietly. Frankie lay with his eyes glued to the goldfish bowl.

---o---

Sirikit waited until they had left and sneaked back into the room. She sat looking at the goldfish bowl for a while.

Clarence investigated the new stone at the bottom of the bowl. He poked his soft nose at it. A shadow loomed overhead as Sirikit landed next to the bowl. Clarence flipped his fins and swam behind the stone as if for protection as a wet paw slid into the water. There was a sensation. A sudden knowledge. Clarence darted for the paw like a streak of lightning.

---o---

They heard the cat scream and the bowl crash. As Steven and Margaret headed for the bedroom, Sirikit streaked past, fur raised as if struck by electricity. She twirled and spat with anger.

"What the hell," Margaret asked. She looked at the mess. "Grab Clarence while I get a glass of water to put him in," she ordered.

It took a while for them to clean up the mess. Steven pressed the Tektite into Frankie's hand. "Hold that, Frankie," he said, "And don't swallow it, while we clean up."

They managed to re-deploy Clarence in the main fishtank in the living room. The sand and gravel were finally cleaned off the floor, and the water and glass shards gathered with mops and fine tissues.

"Got the last of the glass," Margaret asked.

"I think so," Steven said. "I can't feel any."

They stood up.

"I guess we're going to have to get used to it," Margaret said.

Steven knew his mother was already feeling exhausted, and Frankie had only been home one day. He reached for Frankie's hand. "I'll have to take the tektite, Frankie."

He pried at his brother's fingers. "Mum, They're locked around it. I can't get it out."

"Don't force them, dear. He probably wants to hold onto it."

"He won't swallow it?"

Margaret shrugged. "Probably not. It's good exercise for him to have something in his fingers."

Steven stayed for a while after Margaret went out with the debris. He kneeled by the bed and put his face close to Frankie.

"I don't know if you can hear me," he whispered to Frankie. "But I really love you, you know. I'm your brother. I'll always be here. I'm so sorry about the accident, but it wasn't my fault. Dad says it's just one of those crazy things. I just wish you could talk. Even if you could say something."

Frankie turned his eyes towards Steven. "Graaaak," he said.

"Graaaak to you," Steven said, kissing him lightly on the forehead.

---o---

Graham felt slightly foolish praying to a God he didn't really believe in. He was a rational man. What had medieval mysticism to do with the Twentieth Century? It kept Margaret happy. She smiled as he finished grace.

"Everything go well today?" he asked.

"Sure," Steven said. "But I've got to go to school tomorrow."

"Decent of your headmaster to let you stay home," Graham said. "You're not losing out on schoolwork, you know."

"And how was your day?" Margaret asked Merle.

"Fine, Mummy. Doc says I can have next Tuesday off to help you. Without pay, of course."

Graham chuckled. "Trust the good Doc. He's lucky to get such a keen young receptionist."

---o---

In the darkening bedroom, Frankie watched through the window as the stars began to shine through the dusk. They were strangely familiar to him. Sirius, the Dog star, Betelgeuse, Orion's belt.

---o---

Margaret put the spoon into the bowl and wiped Frankie's face clean. "Steven! Don't forget to put Sirikit in the laundry," Margaret called out. "She's in disgrace. I don't want her in with Frankie. She might scratch him, or something."

Graham stroked the cat sitting on his lap. "There you are, Sirikit. He can't even defend himself against you. You'd just love to get in there and play with his toes, wouldn't you?"

Sirikit turned her blue eyes towards Graham and gave out a rough Miaow.

---o---

The room was dark, now. Frankie lay huddled beneath the sheets holding the tennis ball and the tektite. His eyes sought it out. He pulled his arm around and looked at the black stone. In his mind, it seemed to be glowing. It was as if an essence flowed from it towards his fingers, turning them blue, green, red, and yellow. He felt warmth flowing up his arm, searching, searching.

Around midnight, Frankie's hand lay horizontally in front of him. He watched as the fingers uncurled like the petals of a flower, revealing the glory of the stone as its light blazed through his body. It seemed as if Frankie had become translucent, and as if an enormous electrical storm raged within him.

By two in the morning, both hands had uncurled, and his arms stretched above his head. His spine began to straighten. He thought about the binary system of Sirius and the great nebulae in Orion.

Another two hours later, he lay flat and normal, breathing deeply, sleeping peacefully.

At six, he awoke, feeling hungry.

---o---

Steven woke early. Mum would be busy with Frankie, so he would have to get his own breakfast. He visited the toilet and shower, then shrugged into his school uniform.

Breakfast. He went into the kitchen. He'd have to make lunch.

The ice-cream container caught his attention right away. It must have been left out all night. He sighed and picked it up to replace it in the fridge. It hadn't melted. In fact, it still felt cold. He shrugged and replaced it in the ice-box.

Graham walked into the kitchen. "How's our boy today?" he asked.

"I don't know, I haven't looked," Steven said.

"I meant you," his father said.

Steven turned to him and gave a grin. "Oh. Great. No worries."

"That's good," his father said, looking in on Frankie. "He's asleep, too. Not so bent up, I notice."

"I think it is good for him to be home," Steven said.

They stood at his bedroom door looking in at him. Frankie opened both eyes and looked at them. For a moment, he seemed to be puzzled, then he snuggled down again and closed his eyes.

Steven had noticed the ring of ice cream around Frankie's mouth. That explained it. Margaret must have got up during the night and fed him.

---o---

They decided to make it a family breakfast. Graham got the bacon and eggs, while Steven made toast and grilled tomatoes. It was something of a n ovelty, sitting down together. Their busy schedule had never really permitted it before.

"Did you feed Frankie during the night?" Steven asked casually.

"No," Margaret replied.

"Well the ice-cream was left out, when I got up this morning, and Frankie has a ring of it round his mouth."

Margaret looked at Merle.

"Not me," she said, shaking her head.

"All right, who got the ice-cream out then," Steven asked.

Frankie's voice came from behind them. He walked into the room. "I did. I felt hungry," he said.

---0---

The senior neurosurgeon, Mr. White, tapped the gold plated ballpoint pen onto his blotter. Those who knew him would have said it was a sign of irritation, but he smiled. A tight smile, but a smile, nevertheless.

"You must have been overjoyed when he came out of his coma," Mrs. Marshal.

"Oh, Doctor, I couldn't stop hugging him. I'd prayed for it so hard."

"I'm not a particularly religious man, Mrs. Marshal, but all I can say is that God must have heard you. His recovery is quite outside of my experience. If I was to be asked, I'd have to say it is unprecedented."

"That makes me feel rather humble, doctor."

"What is God?" Frankie asked. He looked blankly at both of them.

"Surely you know?" Margaret said. "You've been to Sunday School and had religious education at school."

"Oh, that. I know all about that. But what is God, really?"

"I thought for a moment you might be having amnesia, young man," the surgeon said, "But that really is a very difficult question. Very perceptive."

"You haven't answered my question," Frankie said.

"Don't bother the doctor, Frankie. Just be glad that God has seen fit to cure you."

"Perhaps God is the Spiritual or Intelligent universal mind," Mr. White said, musing at the question.

"A sort of - universal mind?" Frankie persisted.

"Just you look after that skull of yours, Frankie, and one day you might know. Remember what I told you. When cycling - "

"Wear a helmet," Frankie said.

---o---

Steven protested at first. "I'll look stupid," he said.

"You won't, and you'll wear it, or walk," his father said. "You don't mind wearing them at BMX."

"That's different," Steven muttered.

He gave in gracefully enough, and soon noticed that quite a few kids and even adults, wore them quite regularly. Graham had bought them a matching pair. Bright yellow for visibility. Frankie pedaled behind, and they rode carefully. Steven was surprised that Frankie was allowed back on his bike at all. Graham had said that it would be stupid to give him some sort of phobia, and that the only thing was to make sure Frankie was doubly careful.

Margaret was a bit upset about it, but finally agreed that it was the sensible thing to do. She watched them ride away from the house, and kept herself busy in the kitchen, waiting for them to return.

---o---

"I thought I'd show you where Dad found me. When I ran away," Steven said. He took Frankie to 'his' seat on the waterfront. They propped their bikes behind it, and sat watching the waves.

"Why here?" Frankie asked.

"He brought me here a few times, when you weren't with us. Said he wanted to get to know his eldest son better. We used to talk here, and feed the seagulls."

"We had our secret place, too. He took me to the zoo and we saw the monkeys."

They sat watching the gulls.

"I think he's stupid," Frankie said.

"Dad?" Steven protested.

"No. God."

"After all he's done for you? You get a real miracle off him, and you start to say he's stupid?"

"The seagulls. Birds, I mean. Not very efficient. Oh, they work all right, but awfully hard. I suppose that's what you get when you rely on evolution. A trial and error solution. I can't really imagine him spontaneously creating anything so awkward."

Steven looked at his brother and made a wry face. "Ever since you woke up from that coma, you go on and on about things. I don't even know what you're talking about most of the time."

Frankie looked at him and smiled. "What do you want me to talk about?"

"I don't know. You used to talk about Mechobots."

"Multi-functional cybernetic systems. A most interesting idea," Frankie said.

"That. That's exactly what I mean. 'Multi-what-nots'. You never used to talk like that."

"Must be the bang on the head," Frankie said, teasing him. He got up from the seat and reached for his bike. His expression made Steven uneasy.

Frankie raised his eyebrows. "Coming? I want to explore."

"Mum will be worried."

"No she won't. You can phone her and let her know we're O.K."

Why hadn't he thought of that?

---o---

Steven was sorry he permitted it, although afterwards, he was not sure that he could have stopped Frankie if he had wished. Frankie explored. He cycled up and down the suburbs of that gray city, covering miles and miles. Steven was no slouch as a cyclist, but even he had to cry halt.

Margaret looked at them as they came in the door. Frankie was beaming, and Steven totally exhausted. While Margaret and Frankie held each other in a long cuddle, Steven stretched out across one of the lounge chairs and panted.

"Did you have a good ride, dear?" Margaret asked.

"Good ride! He bloody near wore me out," Steven said.

Frankie hugged Margaret tightly and looked across at Steven. It was then that Steven first noticed something a little bit odd about Frankie's smile. There was a cynical calculating quality about it that had never been there before.

---o---

"By the way," Steven asked Frankie later. "Where's my tektite?"

"You gave it to me," Frankie said simply.

"Yes, but I want it back. It was only a loan to you. It's really mine."

Frankie looked around his room. Margaret had tidied it and re-arranged everything. "I'm not sure where it is at the moment," he said. "Mum's cleaned up. It could be anywhere. You did say I could have it."

Steven sat on the bed with his hands in the pockets of his windcheater while Frankie sat at his desk examining one of his mechomen. He turned it into a car and back again. Then he shook his head.

"There's no way a thing like this could really work," he said.

"They're your toys, I could have told you that yonks ago, but you would go out and buy them."

Frankie turned his head towards Steven very slowly.

Steven looked at his brother's expressionless, flat, face. It scared him. "Frankie, don't!" he shouted, jumping off the bed.

"What's going on?" Graham called from the lounge.

"Frankie's looking at me," Steven complained, then realized how silly it must sound. "You're weird," he said, standing up and walking from the room.

Frankie watched him leave the room. He turned round in his chair and held his hand out flat. The glowing Tektite materialized in it, illuminating the boy and shining throughout the room. Frankie took a deep breath, as if of essence, then closed his fist. When he opened it again, the stone meteorite had gone.

---o---

Steven wasn't happy about Frankie. He didn't have anything definite to go on. His mother couldn't see anything wrong at all. His father seemed just as blind. Steven asked him if they could go to the seagull seat alone. They chose Sunday.

"He's definitely changed, Dad. He's just not the same kid," Steven said, throwing some bread to the gulls.

"We got pretty close, when Frankie was sick, Steven. In some ways, it was as if you were our only child once more. We nursed Frankie a lot, but it was you who got all our attention. Suddenly you have to share us with Frankie again. Is that it?"

"I'm not jealous of him, Dad. I love Frankie. You know I - I did."

"Did?"

"I'm not so sure any more. I can't explain it really, but when Frankie looks at me, It's not him behind those eyes."

Graham put his arm around Steven's shoulders. "I think - no matter how well Frankie looks - there may still be just a little bit of brain damage. I've noticed his memory. He has forgotten a lot of things. And he does talk more. What does count is that he is back with us."

"So it's just a bit of brain damage?"

"People do change after that sort of accident, Steven. You've just noticed that a bit quicker than Mar - your mother and I. It's because you're both so close. You're more sensitive to it, maybe."

"So I'm not imagining things?"

Graham chuckled. "No, Steven. But there's nothing sinister about what's happened, either. You don't have to get the heebie jeebies about Frankie. He's really the same old lovable kid brother, but a bit different. Just be patient with him, and you'll see. O.K?"

"Sure, Dad. And thanks."

Graham shook him gently. "That's what fathers are for, son. To confide things to. Even if they do seem a bit way out at times."

---o---

Frankie had made changes to his room. The Mechobots went out. He sold them - to his friends, mainly. He would come home from school and count the money he had made from his lunchtime trading. Then he would buy something different - a globe of the world, or an atlas, or a planisphere.

"You're getting to be quite a spacenik," his mother quipped one afternoon when he arrived home with a model space shuttle.

"I traded it for Tankertron," he said, referring to the pride of his Mechobot fleet.

"I thought that was the one thing you'd never part with," his mother said.

"Oh, well. We all have to grow up some time," Frankie said, entering his room and closing the door.

---o---

Peter Bishop, the school's bully, had noticed Frankie's trading. It led him to the idea that he could perhaps make a profit of his own. He sat two seats behind Frankie, and watched the boy slide his money into his pocket after the lunch break.

Frankie didn't seem to be aware of Peter waiting for him in the narrow side street after school. Peter shoved his cycle across Frankie's path, cutting him off. He was a big boy for his age, and expected Frankie to be scared of him.

"What have you got in your pocket?" he asked, grabbing Frankie by the collar.

Frankie looked at him with cold eyes. "Why?" he asked.

"Because I want half of it," Peter said.

Frankie shrugged and reached into his pocket. "Sure," he said. He held his hand out to Peter.

Peter screamed as hundreds of leeches, spiders, and worms seemed to jump onto him. They began to fasten onto his skin and crawl towards his mouth, nose, and eyes. He looked with horror at Frankie, who was no longer there. Instead, a grotesque Nemesis from the depths of his own subconscious nightmares stood laughing at him. He broke and ran screaming from the alley. He scratched at himself, trying to get the leeches off. He jumped up and down screaming in frantic fear. Passers by stopped and stared at him.

"What's wrong with you, Boy?" A concerned man asked. Peter looked down at his body. There were no leeches, or worms.

Frankie stepped from the alley with his bike and mounted it. "See you, Peter," he said, waving. He rode off. Peter sat whimpering - shaking with fear.

The pedestrians looked cautiously at Peter. "Wonder if he's on drugs?" one of the bystanders asked. "Never know what they're up to these days."

---o---

"What time will you be back?" Graham asked Merle as she walked down the steps with Arnold Boulter.

"I'll bring her back round about eleven, Mr. Marshal," Arnold promised.

"Listen to him," Merle said mockingly. "Sexist. He'll bring me back. Huh!"

Graham gave them a grin. "Before twelve, please, daughter mine. O.K?"

"See you in the morning, Dad," Merle said, waving her fingers lightly.

Graham straightened his tie. He stood waiting as Margaret adjusted her hair for the umpteenth time.

"O.K?" She asked.

"Nobody's going to be looking at you in the pictures," Graham said, "But you look beautiful."

"I haven't been for ages. Must be years," Margaret said. "You two look after things, and don't forget your homework, Steven."

"I won't, Mum."

"And no ducking out in the night for Pizzas or videos," Graham chided, pointing a finger at both of them.

Steven grinned. "O.K. Dad. We've got the hint. Haven't we, Frankie?"

Frankie nodded with his tight little smile. "We'll stay home," he promised.

---o---

Steven got on with his homework as he promised. Frankie disappeared into his room to play with his latest models. He had managed to get a moon globe, and sat on the bed studying it intensely.

Steven finished his homework and came into the room to join him. Frankie smiled and patted the quilt beside him. "Come here and look at this," he said.

"Arizona - Meteor Crater. Western Australia - Wolfe Crater, another one. Northern Territory - Gosse's Bluff. That was a real monster. Tunguska, 1908."

"So. What's the big deal?" Steven asked.

"Have you ever thought about the universe?" Frankie asked. "Like where these come from?" he said, holding out the Tektite.

Steven chuckled. "You found it. Great!"

He reached to take it from Frankie, but Frankie closed his hand and opened it. The tektite had gone.

Steven looked at Frankie. The boy looked back, mocking silently. Then he reached out to Steven's ear and the tektite was once more in his hand.

"Oh, I get it. Conjuring. You learnt it at school, Right?"

"Maybe. Have you ever thought where this came from?"

"Space, I guess. I don't know."

"It makes you think, doesn't it. Ever wondered if we're alone in the universe, or if there's anyone else out there?"

"You swapped all your mechobot collection for this space junk? Why, Frankie? The only one you've got left now is Mack-Guard."

"I didn't want to swap Mack Guard."

"You've suddenly got big ideas for a little brother. I don't know, Frankie. You've changed. I just wish sometimes that you were back to the Frankie I knew before you - "

"Like this?" Frankie asked mockingly. He lay back on the bed and curled his spine, legs and hands into the fetal position. "Gaaark!"

"Frankie. Don't," Steven said. "It looks awful."

He began to panic, looking at Frankie like that. It seemed so real, as if, somehow, Frankie had suddenly returned to the coma.

"Frankie! Don't. Come back!" he shouted.

"All right," Frankie said, relaxing. He grabbed Steven's hand. "You really care about your little brother, don't you?"

Steven held Frankie's hand to his forehead. "Don't do that ever again, please," he said.

---0---

Graham settled down into the seat as the film began. "Stop worrying, Margaret. We've got to trust th em some time."

"Yes, dear. It's just that - after - "

"If you like, I'll ring during interval."

"No. Don't bother. I'm sure they'll both be all right."

---o---

"What if there really were Aliens?" Frankie asked. "They wouldn't have to look like us. They might be crystalline - like this," he said, pointing to the Tektite. "Or just energy fields. You might not even recognize one when you saw it."

"Well, in that case, if something looked like an Alien, I'd blast it with a laser - like Ripley."

"It might not be unfriendly. It might be real friendly and need help," Frankie said.

"Aw. Get off it, Frankie. It's boring, boring, boring."

"It's important that you listen," Frankie said.

"Space bores me," Steven protested. "I don't want to talk about it."

Frankie drew in a deep breath. "Then I guess we'll just have to do it the hard way," he muttered to himself.

He seemed to shimmer for a moment, long enough to get Steven's attention, as he looked on frowning. Suddenly, instead of Frankie, there was a great python which flipped its coils around Steven's body, pinioning his arms to his side. The great head swayed in front of Steven's face, rocking backwards and forwards. A great forked tongue flickered out, as if to taste his face.

Steven was petrified with shock. He tried to breathe in to scream, but was unable to move a muscle.

"Still bored?" the serpent asked.

Steven struggled desperately to throw the serpent off, and at last wriggled partly free. The snake at this point became a shaft of blue light that bounced around the room, cannoning off the walls. Finally, it sat in the air as a blue ball of plasma, only inches from Steven's face. He felt the heat emanating from it and turned away. At that point, he noticed Frankie curled up on the bed. He grabbed at his younger brother.

"Frankie, We've got to get out of here!" he yelled.

"Gaaark!" Frankie replied, and Steven dropped him back on the bed with shock, realizing that it was the crippled version of his younger brother.

"I've tried to tell you, that without me, Frankie's not really much use," the light hissed at him.

Steven backed towards the door. "Keep away from me - you - you - Thing!"

The light disappeared and became a sheet of green slime that flowed across the floor and onto the door, sealing it off.

"Don't do that!" Steven yelled.

A face appeared in the slime. It smiled at him. "Why don't we be reasonable about this? I don't wish to hurt you."

"I'm not having anything to do with Aliens!" Steven yelled. "That's why."

"Aliens," the face snorted derisively. "I've been here two hundred and fifty million years, and humans only a fraction of that. Maybe eight at the most. Aliens indeed!"

"Frankie," Steven cried. He scrambled over to his brother. His knees were trembling. "Frankie, It's me, Steven."

Steven felt something lick the back of his leg. He jumped in fright and spun around. A large black labrador dog sat looking at him.

"D - d - d - don't. Don't do that," Steven said. He turned to his brother and looked compassionately at him. "Oh, Frankie. What's happened to you?"

The dog jumped onto Frankie's, bed, curled up beside him, and transformed into a large fluffy Teddy bear. "He got hit by a car," the bear said. "You know that."

"I'm not talking to any stuffed bear, either!" Steven said, backing into a corner.

The bear jumped from the bed.

"Ah. I see the problem," he said. The bear seemed to shatter into sparkling fragments that scintillated around the room, then changed into a boy about the same size as Steven.

The boy smiled mischievously. "Is this better," he asked. "I don't want to frighten you."

Steven looked at the boy. He seemed normal. "Who are you?" he asked.

The boy scratched his head. "I've got an identifying number, but its about a million digits long and even takes me a nanosecond to say it at light speed. Why not just call me Tek. Short for Tektite."

"What have you done with Frankie?" Steven demanded.

"Nothing. He's the same as he always was - well, when I took him over, anyway."

"But he got better," Steven said. "GOD made him better."

"Sorry about that, a misunderstanding, I assure you. I had absolutely no intention of interfering in human affairs. I just moved in, and - unfortunately - got curious. You see, I've never had a human to play with before."

"You moved in. Just like some kind of squatter!"

"Hmm! You could say that. Quite shameless of me, I know. I do apologize. Most profusely."

"But what are we going to do? When Mum and Dad come home, they're going to be - devastated. I mean - can you imagine - "

"Yes. It is difficult." Tek said, expressing disinterest with a yawn. "I can't stay in free form for ever. I'll have to move back."

"Into Frankie?"

"Or the Tektite. It doesn't really matter to me," Tek said, tossing the little rock up into the air and catching it. "If I go back there, Frankie will stay the way he is."

"But I want Frankie back," Steven protested. "I want my brother. You're not him. You're just an imposter - using him."

"Hmm. Actually, I agree. The solution for our problems is to find Frankie. He isn't at home, that's for sure," Tek said, touching his head.

Steven stood up. He held his hands apart in desperation. "If he isn't at home, where is he then?"

The boy smiled. "Somewhere in there. In his mind."

"How do we get him - I - What do we do?"

"We'll just have to go in there, into that mind, and find him. I can't do it alone. I don't really know what I'm looking for. But you - you will know."

Steven stood looking at the boy for a moment. He fuzzed into a blue glow and sat hovering in the air above Frankie's bed.

"I'm game. How do we get into Frankie's mind and find him?"

A tinkle of happy notes flowed from the blue glowball. "Through the eye, of course."

The blue glow diffused and flowed over Steven. He fought it for a moment, then relaxed, as it seemed to permeate him. He noticed Frankie getting bigger and bigger. So was the room.

Frankie's eye got larger and larger as they floated towards the huge black pupil. It seemed to grow until it was enormous - a huge gate across the universe. Then they were through. In a shower of sparks and incandescent lights, they entered Frankie's mind.

---o---

Steven stood on a cloud covered plain. He looked around for his alien companion, but saw nothing. "Where are you?" he called.

"All around you," came the answer.

Steven looked at himself. His skin was sparkling blue with tints of opalescent color and flashes of starlight. There was a tinkling sound of musical laughter, and the blue sheen flowed from him, to materialize as Tek.

"Oh," Steven said. "Are you going to look like that all the time?"

"I don't know. It's Frankie's mind. He might change it."

Tek went through some grotesque transformations, from a Dinosaur, to a rabbit, a lion, and back to himself again.

"Stop it," Steven said. "You're confusing me."

"Just showing you," Tek said. "Why don't you try it?"

"Change shape? How!"

"How does anyone change a dream? Think about it, and change."

Steven thought for a moment. Suddenly, he became an elephant, but with four human feet. There was an enormous struggle as beast succeeded beast, leopards with trunks, trees with wings, birds with human faces.

"Help!" Steven shouted.

Tek turned blue and flashed across to the melee. A few pyrotechnics later, Steven emerged and Tek materialized beside him.

"I'm not trying that again," Steven said determinedly.

"Why not? I thought it was most effective. So interesting."

"I couldn't get it right."

"That's the stuff of nightmares," Tek said, laughing. The laughter grew louder and louder. "Nightmares! Run, Steven, Run!"

The light dimmed and then became inky black. Red fire crackled across the horizon, and strange malevolent figures could be seen in the distance.

"Run, Steven. Run!" Tek screamed, running off towards the horizon on which a thin ray of light could be seen.

Steven began to run with feet that felt sticky and heavy. Behind him pounded the shapeless black forms that loomed closer and closer. Skeletons and phantoms seemed to rise from the ground and clutch at him. Tek was just ahead. He reached out a hand towards him, but it seemed to be too short.

Tek looked back at Steven. "Change, stupid," he called over his shoulder.

Steven swallowed and closed his eyes. He felt his feet come in contact with the surface in a steady canter. He looked at himself in surprise.

Tek jumped onto his back and yelled, "Get going, Full gallop!"

The white stallion that had been Steven surged towards the light.

---o---

They stopped near a gentle running stream. Steven put his head down to drink, then found some sweet grass. He stood savoring it for a moment, then changed back into human form and spat it out.

"Yuck!" He said.

Tek laughed. "That will teach you to transmute halfway through a biological function. Had a friend do that once when he was being a dinosaur laying an egg. He had a sore rear end for a week."

Steven had to laugh at that. "Why on earth was he imitating a Dinosaur?"

"Trying to get to know them better, I think."

"Where are we?" Steven asked.

"Ah. That's why I need you along. I don't know where we are. In one of Frankie's memories, I suppose. Maybe you can tell me."

"It's the creek. We came fishing here. I remember it!"

They stood watching as another Steven and Frankie, a little younger, came down to the creek. They stood there arguing, and the young Steven pushed young Frankie into the water. At that, Frankie threw a stone, hitting Steven on the head.

"I remember that," Steven said. He was awfully sorry afterwards.

They watched the young Frankie consoling his brother. "Stevie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Really I didn't."

The two figures disappeared. Steven looked at Tek. "I had an egg on my head for a week afterwards," he said.

"I remember, now," Tek said. "It's coming together."

A dark shadow crossed the sun.

"Oh, No! Not again," Steven said. They looked up. A gigantic face, totally evil, seemed to fill the sky. "Frankie's teacher. He hated her."

"Careful, Steven. Hide!" Tek said urgently. "It's one of Frankie's fantasies. Anything could happen. Keep out of it!"

It was a hopeless order. Two great hands reached down for them and grasped them, pulling them upward into the sky. A haunting, jagged laugh cackled across the heavens, thundering from cloud to cloud."

"Get out of the hands," Tek screamed. He transmuted into a hissing black snake that bit at the witch's wrists. She screamed in alarm and dropped both of them.

"Help! I'm falling!" Steven shouted. He watched the ground coming closer and closer.

"Don't hit the ground!" Tek yelled. "You'll die!"

Steven closed his eyes and concentrated. He felt his arms flow outwards into wings, and he soared.

"I've done it. I'm an eagle!" he shouted gleefully. He looked around. Another soared next to him. They thermaled on rising air currents into the bright sunlit air, higher and higher until the ground seemed miles below them.

There was the sound of thunder from overhead.

"There seems to be a storm about," came Graham's voice from the clouds.

"I'll just look in on the boys and see if they're alright," Margaret said. "Oh for heaven's sake. Look at them, dear. Both asleep in Frankie's room.

"Thought Steven was a bit old for that. Oh leave them. He's old enough to find his own bed when he wakes up."

"Where are they," Steven asked, looking around. He found himself standing on a black road beside Tek. All around them were the silhouettes of houses, with fire-lit windows.

"They're home. Frankie can hear them. So can we. The storm's affecting his dreams. We'd better move on. Whatever's wrong isn't up here," Tek said.

"Where can we go?"

"Catch a train into the deeper recesses," his companion said. He put up a hand, and a train appeared alongside them, chuffing along unseen lines. "I'm up. Come along, Steven."

"I can't. It's slippery," he said, running beside it. He tried to get on, but all efforts were resisted. "How can I get on? I can't get on!"

The solution occurred to him at once. He closed his eyes and transmuted into a passenger on the train. He felt the strap that he was holding. Outside, the scenery flowed past, strange, but familiar. He grinned with delight at finding the solution and looked around for Tek. He wasn't there.

Where was Tek? He couldn't see him. Then the passengers began to look at him. All of them seemed to be like Tek, but none of them were. He closed his eyes once more, but when he opened them, the scene was the same. Tek came forward, pushing his way towards him aggressively.

"Have you got a ticket?" Tek demanded.

"Of course I haven't," Steven replied. "You know I haven't."

"Can't come on the train without a ticket," Tek said.

"But you said we had to get on the train," Steven argued.

"Can't come on the train without your trousers, either," Tek said.

Steven looked down in horror. A beach towel hung around his waist. It seemed to be getting smaller and smaller. He let go of the strap and hung onto the towel tightly.

"Symbols, Steven. These are all symbols," Tek said. "Nothing here is real."

"I want to wake up!" Steven said. "This is just a dream - a crazy dream. Get me out of here!"

"Keep your nerve," Tek commanded crossly. "You want to find Frankie, don't you?"

"Course I do."

"We'll have to split up, then," Tek said.

---0---

Steven found himself standing with Tek on the edge of a great cliff that overlooked a strange landscape. It was a jungle of wrecked trees and ruined cities.

"Quite a mess," Tek said from beside him. "I might be able to do something about it, though. It will take some time."

"What about finding Frankie?" Steven asked. "Is he down there?"

"No. That's the physical side of the mind. Frankie is in the symbolic area. That is weird stuff, Steven. Quite alien to me, I'm afraid."

"Too human for you, eh?"

"Yes. You must find him, Stephen. I can't go with you. I can try to repair the physical damage, but you must find the real Frankie by yourself. You did all right in our little practice run. You have all the skills to cope with this dream world. If I come with you, it will only confuse things. Find him, and bring him back here. Then you shall both be free to go - wherever you please."

There was a bright flash, and the Tektite boy disappeared. Steven looked around him. He was standing on a white plain under a featureless, eternal, blue sky..

---o---

Steven felt as if he had been walking for hours. He staggered on across the plain. One dir ection had seemed as good as any other. His legs ached. In the distance, he saw a small raised area - a feature in a featureless landscape. As he walked towards it, it gradually resolved out of the haze into a golden pyramid. Only as he approached it did he begin to realize the size of it. It grew and grew, until it became a mighty mountainous structure a thousand feet or more high.

The ground trembled slightly beneath his feet. He looked downwards. It was as if the surface on which he was walking had become paper-thin. Small cracks radiated from where his feet were placed. He started sinking through the surface of the plain, as if it was made of eggshell. He turned and tried to stagger backwards. No hope. He crossed his fingers, closed his eyes, and flapped his arms, running forward with all his might. There was a lightening sensation of speed and grace, and he soared upwards.

"Why didn't I try that earlier," he said to himself.

Higher and higher he flew, reaching up as far as he could. He soared above the golden pyramid. There were two other features on the plain, a blue cube, and a red sphere. Both were gigantic. The pyramid was the closest feature, so he swooped down towards it, circling its base about a hundred feet above the white ground.

On one side of the pyramid was a recess. A large rectangular black hole appeared to be the entrance. After a few moments of reflection, he aimed himself towards it. His landing was clumsy, and he fell in a heap, recovering his human form as he did so.

"Obviously, I need more practice," he said ruefully, picking himself up and looking around.

Behind him, the steep slope of the golden wall dropped to the ground below. In front was a featureless black door or opening. He wasn't really sure. He pushed his arm into it. The arm disappeared totally, but it looked reasonable when he pulled it back. He pushed his head forward, and found himself being sucked inwards.

There was total blackness, and the sensation of falling. Yet he was able to see himself clearly, as if all of his body was lit by powerful arc lights. He tried to transmute, but nothing happened. He was falling down a seemingly bottomless black pit, going nowhere. He screamed, and as he did, saw a vehicle heading straight for him. He saw Mrs. Simpson's face as he flew through the air, then sparks and stars. There was a sickening thud which hurt terribly, and the world became a cacophony of sirens, flashing red and blue lights, and sensations of being lifted.

Above him surgical lights flared and white masked faces looked down with concern.

"Raccoon eyes. Blood pressure in the cranium. Have to relieve that."

"Will he make it?"

"Doubt it, but you never know. Right - got it exposed. Look at that sucker pump. Got it. Nasty. Nasty."

The visions faded. Steven looked around. He was standing on a polished ebony floor. In front of him was a hospital bed, with a chair beside it. The voice seemed familiar, and as he approached, he saw his mother sitting in it, weeping.

She was holding onto Frankie's hand as he lay looking into space vacantly.

"Mum! You're here!" Steven shouted.

"You mustn't see him like this," his mother said.

The figures disappeared, leaving an empty chair and hospital bed.

"I don't know what I'm looking for. I don't understand any of this," Steven said.

---o---

He heard a noise behind him and turned. A phalanx of white-coated men stood facing him. In their hands they held large syringes and kidney dishes. They were faceless. They belted against the dishes and stepped forwards menacingly. He turned to run, but his retreat seemed cut off in all directions. The figures came closer and closer.

"This had better work," Steven said. He lifted his head upwards and closed his eyes, emitting the screaming roar of a tyrannosaurus. With relief, he felt his huge tail sweep a path through the white phantoms. He pushed himself forward and burst through the side of the pyramid, which shattered like glass around him. A final triumphant roar and he raced forward, flapping his wings to soar aloft as an eagle once more.

---o---

Something caught his attention on the plain below. He swooped down towards it. At first, he was puzzled. What was a truck doing out here? A Mack? It didn't make -

"Mackguard!" Steven said.

The truck groaned and twisted until it resembled a large mechobot. It saluted Steven.

"Glad you recognized me," it said.

"You're Mackguard. Frankie's favorite. Right?"

"Right on, Steven."

"Do you know where he is?"

"Not in the red sphere, that's for sure. I've looked there," the robot said.

"Danger! Alert!" the robot cried suddenly. "Enemy mechobeasts approaching. Hop in, Steven. We'll have to outfight them."

The robot changed back into a truck once more. Steven climbed into the cabin, and the truck started off across the plain towards the blue cube.

"Changing to fighter mode," the truck warned.

There was a long hard surge of power, as if they were being booted in the behind, and the truck became a white fighter aircraft that rocketed through the sky towards a cloud of black dots.

"There are too many of them," Steven shouted in alarm.

"Come one, come all - they can't defeat Mackguard!" the robot shouted, hurtling into battle with lasers and cannons blazing. The sky turned into a cartoon of explosions and fighters as the melee progressed. Steven looked at his hands, shocked to find that he too, had become a cartoon figure.

It was soon over. The rocket fighter dropped towards the white plain and landed in front of the blue cube, turning back into the Mack Truck as it did so.

Steven looked at himself. His arms and legs were real again.

"Don't let it upset you," the truck said. "Frankie's always fighting battles with me. Prefers it to doing schoolwork, any day."

Steven laughed. That, he understood perfectly.

They examined the cube carefully.

"At least the ground around here is stable," Steven said.

He reached forward and touched the cube. Suddenly, it became alive with color. It had a face, arms, and legs - all painted on the sides.

"That's Frankie," Steven said. "He's been turned into a cube."

Frankie looked back at them and mouthed 'help me' without sound.

"What do we do now?" Steven asked.

The truck turned once more into a robot. "Don't know," it said. "I'm not programmed for this type of thing at all."

Steven felt a shiver pass up and down his spine. There was a slight darkening of the sky. He looked around. There was nothing.

"I feel uneasy," he said. "Wait here while I take a look around."

He eagled into the air, sweeping his powerful wings to climb higher and higher. There was a smudge on the horizon. He flew closer and closer. Then he realized what it was. Every monster and fantasy in Frankie's mind was on the march. There were the faceless doctors, the teachers and school bullies he hated, giant worms and faceless phantoms, an evil nemesis with a cohort of mindless furies.

From every evil throat came the chant: "Frankie! Frankie! Frankie!"

There were just too many of them, even for Mackguard and his lasers. Closer and closer they came. Steven was frantic.

"We can't stop them, Mackguard," he shouted.

They could see them plainly now, as they advanced from the horizon.

"Can't you shrink Frankie?" Mackguard asked.

Steven tried. It was no use. Whatever he did, Frankie resisted all efforts to change him.

"It's Frankie. He's the one. He's changed himself into this cube. He's done it," Steven yelled above the chanting.

"Can't you show him how to change back?" Mackguard asked.

"I'll try," Steven said.

He yelled instructions to Frankie, then stood in front of his brother's face, changing from one form into another. Frankie watched impassively from one face of the cube.

"It's no good," Steven yelled to Mackguard. "I don't think he understands."

"We'd better get out of here," Mackguard said as the demons advanced on them. "I don't think they can hurt Frankie. Not as he is, but they can do a lot to us."

"I can change into a cube if I want to," Steven said, doing it. He then transmuted back. "But I think you're right, Mackguard. We'd better take off."

He spread his arms out as the phantoms reached out to grab him and flapped them, soaring up into the sky. Mackguard rocketed upwards as a space-fighter.

There was a sudden cry from below. A pained cry, as if of recognition.

"Steven! Wait for me!"

Steven turned and saw with delight that another eagle soared from the ground below.

"I'm coming!" Frankie shouted.

Steven threw himself heavenward in delight as the two brothers met in the air. The phantoms evaporated into mist as the sky turned iridescent colors of overwhelming joy.

---o---

"So, you both made it?" The Tektite boy exclaimed as they landed next to him.

Mackguard hurtled to a stop, changed into a robot, and walked over.

"I was thinking of selling you," the Tektite said. "Luckily I didn't."

"You just can't keep a good truckie down," Mackguard snorted. Had to help the little fellow. He had all sorts of troubles to contend with.

"Now we're all together again, how are we getting out of here?" Steven asked.

"Same way as we got in," Tek announced. You'll have to travel in comfort. Hop inside," he said. He tossed the tektite onto the ground. It swelled to enormous size and a door opened into it. "Come in. It's O.K. I've lived in here for years."

They entered hesitantly. Inside was a huge hemispherical room with translucent blue-black walls that sparkled with lights. There was a large control panel in the centre, and a strange glowing mass, only vaguely humanoid in shape.

"Tek?" Steven asked.

The glowing figure bowed and flowed around the room. "As you can see, I'm really a plasmoid. Pure life energy. The Tektite is my survival capsule. Without it, I would dissipate - gradually growing less tenuous until I finally vaporized altogether. However, I can live within other organisms - for a time."

"Is that how you lived in Frankie?"

"Like I told you. I just moved in. Now you're all together again, Frankie, I can't do that any more."

"What will happen to you?" Frankie asked.

"I'll just have to stay here, until another opportunity presents itself. It happens every few million years or so. Of course, If I could reach the great comet head inside Meteorite Crater, that would all change. She's something like a mother is to a human. I'd be able to unite with all my kind, and we could form the great Gestalt. Our migration across the universe could begin again."

"Can't they go without you?" Steven asked.

"Afraid not. I'm the 'link'. Without me, there is no fusion. Without that, we cannot sustain the great vessel which carries us," Tektite said.

There was a chiming as of church bells far off.

"We have arrived," Tek said.

"I can smell bacon and eggs," Frankie said.

"It must be breakfast," Steven said. They felt themselves rolling over and over through space.

---o---

Graham had just set the plates out, when Steven and Frankie wandered in rubbing their eyes.

"Hi, you guys. You're early. Went to sleep in your clothes last night. You'd both better have a shower and change. You look really scruffy," he said.

The two boys looked at each other and grinned.