THROUGH THE SMASH-HYPO' (an excerpt from THE EMPTY WORLD by Andrew Reeves)
Danny followed Rasmus and Inambau through the tangle of corridors that ran beneath Knocker Road. Project Control was even larger than he had thought. They passed the open shaft where the outhouse had deposited him - now it was empty. Doubtless the grimy toilet was back above ground. Danny couldn’t believe all this had been here his whole life, hiding like a wonderland under his garden.
He marvelled again at the cool air being constantly flushed around in the spooky breathing motion. He saw pipes like the ones he had hid behind from D.A.N.I.E.L. and he reached out to touch them in interest. They hissed – one hot, one cold, but whereas earlier they had scalded him, now they just tickled his skin.
He held his fingers there a moment, a pipe in each hand, and inhaled deeply, as D.A.N.I.E.L. had done, his body refusing to feel any pain. This was incredible. He released his grip and his fingers merely tingled; he smiled, thoroughly pleased with his upgrades.
And then they arrived at the Smash-Hypo’ door, and Danny grew nervous. What was he getting himself into, trusting Rasmus...?
He watched as Rasmus unveiled a large switch within a hidden access panel on the wall - a metallic replica of the Smash-Hypo’ logo from the door, two concentric circles with an arrow bursting forth from the centre; Danny presumed it symbolised transmission to and from the Empty World. The arrow formed the pointer of the switch, which was encircled by Roman numerals like a clock.
Rasmus grasped the arrow switch and spun it, first right, then left, then right again, finding preset positions like a safe lock, careful not to let Danny see the sequence. The ring of dormant lights that encircled the door sparked into life, illuminating the corridor with bright white light and almost blinding Danny with its harshness. There was a rush of escaping air, a sound like exhaled breath, which tugged at Danny's hair briefly. He took a step back and gripped his canvas bag tight.
Rasmus turned to him with a smile. ‘Ready?’
Was he? Ready to see his Mum and Dad? What was he going to say to them – after all the pain he and Jayney had been put through? How could he forgive them? Did he want to? Shakily he indicated the warning on the door. ‘If it’s safe, why does it say danger of transmission?’
‘Questions, questions. I hate questions! Don’t be afraid, your father designed this.’
Rasmus depressed the switch with a theatrical push and the huge round door abruptly swung towards them. It was ten feet wide but being set ten feet into the wall, even fully open it didn’t encroach into the corridor. Danny tried to imagine the Smash-Hypo’ itself, some colossal great shining machine, perhaps accessible via a bridge over an enormous chasm. Maybe an impossible puzzle needed solving before a person could enter.
But there was only darkness beyond, a pipe-like tunnel stretching away into shadow, giving no indication of where it might lead. Danny looked at Inambau and Rasmus for support. Inambau flashed him his toothy grin and Rasmus urged him forwards.
Tentatively Danny stepped into the mouth of the tunnel. As soon as he crossed the threshold, rings of bright white lights pulsed into being around the curvature of the walls, like a ribcage one by one, until the entire length of the tunnel was lit.
Danny could just make something out at its very far end, an object of some kind.
‘Age before beauty,’ he quipped, standing back.
Rasmus cocked his head. ‘Why not?’
He led Danny down the pipe-like tunnel, which had a flat grated metal floor but was otherwise perfectly cylindrical. ‘You’re accepting this very well. You don’t seem afraid.’
‘Why would I be afraid?’ To his own surprise Danny’s fear was turning to excitement, and an odd sense of destiny. ‘I’m going to see my Mum and Dad,’ he said.
‘On another world,’ Rasmus reminded him. ‘In a parallel reality.’ Danny felt like Rasmus was trying to intentionally freak him out, so he ignored him.
At the far end, the tunnel swelled into a bulb- shaped chamber, in the centre of which was the strangest looking object Danny had ever seen, lashed together from countless disused machine parts, seemingly anything the maker could get his hands on. Car radiators. Pipes. Engine odds and ends. Spark plugs. Carburettors. Copious quantities of junk, like some monstrous motor from another world. It had no real shape or meaning, like an alien work of art. An unfathomable sculpture of industrial waste, bristling with car aerials poking out from between the seams. A satellite receiver dish or two rested amongst the explosion of metal protrusions.
Taken as a whole, it was rusty, old and dangerous looking, like something pieced together at a scrap yard. Out of its front jutted a most unusual handle, very large and nearly dominating the entire construction. It was like one of those handles used to wind up early cars, only ten times bigger.
‘What the hell is this?’ Danny said.
‘This,’ replied Rasmus proudly, drawing himself up to full height, ‘is your father’s Smash-crastiplated Hypo’eccentri-gestor.’
Danny cast his eyes over it in disappointment. ‘This is the Smash-Hypo'? What if it breaks, who mends it?’
Rasmus sighed. ‘It’s not going to break. Your father has told us everything we need to know in the event of an emergency. He’s waiting for you.’
Danny tried to swallow, but his throat was dry. ‘So if this thing is the transmitter – what’s the receiver?’
‘There’s another one on the other side. An exact clone of this. This is Smash-Hypo' One – your father’s original. Its counterpart, Smash-Hypo' Two, is on the Empty World.’ He said it as though they had no time to waste. ‘They’re hooked up together across the space time foam - so nothing can go wrong.’
Famous last words, thought Danny. ‘How many Smash-Hypo's are there?’
Rasmus gave an unreadable look. ‘Just the two... for now.’
‘And what do you do to make it work?
‘The handle. Take it. Crank it.’
Rasmus stepped back and Danny grabbed the outlandish handle. It was huge and completely out of place, bent in the middle - no, it had been snapped in two and re-attached, but at the wrong angle, which only made it look more clumsy. The handgrip was bulbous and dirty, scuffed and old, and the whole thing looked like a mistake. Unsure, he twisted it clockwise and after a creak of complaint, it began to turn quite smoothly. He pulled at it with more weight and it suddenly broke free of his grip, gaining velocity rapidly, spinning round and round.
As if in reaction, the rest of the machine kicked into life. A deep throated hum issued from the morass of salvaged junk and radiators rattled, aerials quivered and the smallest satellite receiver dish began to rotate as the handle spin increased. Danny stepped back, intrigued but apprehensive.
The handle lost definition and became a propeller, a whirling shimmer which kicked up a swift wind that forced him back. The ribcage of white lights along the pipe tunnel dimmed briefly, as if the machine was sucking the power from them, but then they grew in intensity, brighter than before. Danny turned to see Rasmus halfway down the tunnel, breaking into a run towards the circular hatch, where Inambau nervously hopped from foot to foot.
Danny’s eyes went wide. ‘Rasmus? What’s happening?!’
Rasmus threw him a giddy look and kept on running.
The wind was vicious now, blowing Danny back. The handle blurred before the machine, producing a thunderous roar as round and round it flashed. Danny eyed it fiercely, wanting to run. The force of its blast was nearly pushing him off his feet. And then, with a shock and a jolt, the handle stopped, shuddering like a flicked fork. Danny didn’t move. In the tunnel, Rasmus stopped running and turned to watch.
Silence.
‘Why d...?’ Danny began.
And then it happened. The handle whizzed back the
other way, impossibly fast. The Smash-Hypo' shook at the seams, threatening to come apart, smoking from its vents, the wind fearsome, the thunder deafening. But there was a marked difference now. This time, it wasn’t repelling him.
This time... it was sucking him in.
Rasmus set off running again, full pelt. Inambau panicked at the door, wide-eyed and desperate. ‘Come on, Rasmus man!’ Danny’s feet slid along the metal grating, helplessly attracted by the terrible machine. His hair whipped around his face and his screams were lost to the roar. It must have malfunctioned. If he stayed here a moment longer he would be killed, hacked into a million pieces by the whirling propeller – and if that happened, what would become of Jayney?
Desperately he turned and took off after Rasmus, stretching his legs as far as he could to maximise every step, confident his newfound power would help him out. Inambau was straining with the heavy metal hatch, struggling to keep it open until they reached him.
But the ferocious suction at Danny’s back was growing stronger and he had to fight to keep his feet from being sucked off the floor. He screamed out for help.
Rasmus reached the doorway and Inambau pulled him through, to the safety of the corridor beyond, but they’d only be truly safe once the door was closed tight. Danny had to hurry. It was supremely difficult - his upgraded strength was fading fast. He had seconds to reach them before his body would give in.
He ran harder, his muscles burning, but adrenalin gave him the power to succeed. He was twenty feet from the door. Fifteen feet. Ten feet. Rasmus shouted something, but his words were lost in the breath of the storm. Five feet from the door. Two feet. He reached out his hand, yearning to be pulled to safety.
But no one helped him. Inambau eyed him with meaning and retreated from sight, and Rasmus gave him a short, sharp nod... the sort of look Danny imagined was reserved for condemned men. And then Rasmus stepped back too, allowing the storm to suck the door shut with a huge resounding clang. Danny was sealed in.
His eyes went wide. His fingers were an inch from the metal, then brushing tantalisingly across its surface, but suddenly his feet and legs were lifted out from under him and he was sucked screaming down the tunnel.
He would be mincemeat in the blink of an eye.
Closer... closer... closer...
‘Jayneyyy!’ he yelled in remorse, and then he disappeared into the Smash-Hypo's furious maw, with a blinding flash and a deafening screech of metal.
Abruptly the propeller lost velocity, grinding down the gears until it stopped. The deafening furore ended, the tunnel lay empty and still, falling into darkness once more, and the handle on the Smash-Hypo' ground to a halt with a final rusty creak.
But Danny was gone.
*
At first he was sure he was dead, mashed by the terrifying propeller. Oblivion met him... but not the kind he had been expecting. Instead of darkness, there was light. Instead of fear, there was warmth. Beautiful, comforting warmth. He had visions of psychedelic colours. Of weightlessness. Timelessness.
A sense of freedom from reality...
A trillion hues washed over him, images, feelings and thoughts. He smiled. Somehow he knew it was going to be okay - because if this was death, then death was good.
He had no sense of how long, if any time at all, he lingered in this state. It felt both momentary and eternal. What was that in the distance? A blinding light, and he was travelling towards it. He had no time to be afraid. Time didn’t seem to exist where Danny was now.
Only feelings.
Without trying he moved towards the light, into its touch, aware of another whirling torrent in its midst.
And then he was through, and in the next breath...
FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS TO DANNY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE SPACE TIME FOAM, AS HE SEARCHES FOR HIS MOTHER ON HIS FATHER'S EMPTY WORLD OF SEGNIMEDIA! BUY THE EBOOK FROM AMAZON - only £0.99/$0.99!
http://hyperurl.co/d8b0qo?IQid=qr
He marvelled again at the cool air being constantly flushed around in the spooky breathing motion. He saw pipes like the ones he had hid behind from D.A.N.I.E.L. and he reached out to touch them in interest. They hissed – one hot, one cold, but whereas earlier they had scalded him, now they just tickled his skin.
He held his fingers there a moment, a pipe in each hand, and inhaled deeply, as D.A.N.I.E.L. had done, his body refusing to feel any pain. This was incredible. He released his grip and his fingers merely tingled; he smiled, thoroughly pleased with his upgrades.
And then they arrived at the Smash-Hypo’ door, and Danny grew nervous. What was he getting himself into, trusting Rasmus...?
He watched as Rasmus unveiled a large switch within a hidden access panel on the wall - a metallic replica of the Smash-Hypo’ logo from the door, two concentric circles with an arrow bursting forth from the centre; Danny presumed it symbolised transmission to and from the Empty World. The arrow formed the pointer of the switch, which was encircled by Roman numerals like a clock.
Rasmus grasped the arrow switch and spun it, first right, then left, then right again, finding preset positions like a safe lock, careful not to let Danny see the sequence. The ring of dormant lights that encircled the door sparked into life, illuminating the corridor with bright white light and almost blinding Danny with its harshness. There was a rush of escaping air, a sound like exhaled breath, which tugged at Danny's hair briefly. He took a step back and gripped his canvas bag tight.
Rasmus turned to him with a smile. ‘Ready?’
Was he? Ready to see his Mum and Dad? What was he going to say to them – after all the pain he and Jayney had been put through? How could he forgive them? Did he want to? Shakily he indicated the warning on the door. ‘If it’s safe, why does it say danger of transmission?’
‘Questions, questions. I hate questions! Don’t be afraid, your father designed this.’
Rasmus depressed the switch with a theatrical push and the huge round door abruptly swung towards them. It was ten feet wide but being set ten feet into the wall, even fully open it didn’t encroach into the corridor. Danny tried to imagine the Smash-Hypo’ itself, some colossal great shining machine, perhaps accessible via a bridge over an enormous chasm. Maybe an impossible puzzle needed solving before a person could enter.
But there was only darkness beyond, a pipe-like tunnel stretching away into shadow, giving no indication of where it might lead. Danny looked at Inambau and Rasmus for support. Inambau flashed him his toothy grin and Rasmus urged him forwards.
Tentatively Danny stepped into the mouth of the tunnel. As soon as he crossed the threshold, rings of bright white lights pulsed into being around the curvature of the walls, like a ribcage one by one, until the entire length of the tunnel was lit.
Danny could just make something out at its very far end, an object of some kind.
‘Age before beauty,’ he quipped, standing back.
Rasmus cocked his head. ‘Why not?’
He led Danny down the pipe-like tunnel, which had a flat grated metal floor but was otherwise perfectly cylindrical. ‘You’re accepting this very well. You don’t seem afraid.’
‘Why would I be afraid?’ To his own surprise Danny’s fear was turning to excitement, and an odd sense of destiny. ‘I’m going to see my Mum and Dad,’ he said.
‘On another world,’ Rasmus reminded him. ‘In a parallel reality.’ Danny felt like Rasmus was trying to intentionally freak him out, so he ignored him.
At the far end, the tunnel swelled into a bulb- shaped chamber, in the centre of which was the strangest looking object Danny had ever seen, lashed together from countless disused machine parts, seemingly anything the maker could get his hands on. Car radiators. Pipes. Engine odds and ends. Spark plugs. Carburettors. Copious quantities of junk, like some monstrous motor from another world. It had no real shape or meaning, like an alien work of art. An unfathomable sculpture of industrial waste, bristling with car aerials poking out from between the seams. A satellite receiver dish or two rested amongst the explosion of metal protrusions.
Taken as a whole, it was rusty, old and dangerous looking, like something pieced together at a scrap yard. Out of its front jutted a most unusual handle, very large and nearly dominating the entire construction. It was like one of those handles used to wind up early cars, only ten times bigger.
‘What the hell is this?’ Danny said.
‘This,’ replied Rasmus proudly, drawing himself up to full height, ‘is your father’s Smash-crastiplated Hypo’eccentri-gestor.’
Danny cast his eyes over it in disappointment. ‘This is the Smash-Hypo'? What if it breaks, who mends it?’
Rasmus sighed. ‘It’s not going to break. Your father has told us everything we need to know in the event of an emergency. He’s waiting for you.’
Danny tried to swallow, but his throat was dry. ‘So if this thing is the transmitter – what’s the receiver?’
‘There’s another one on the other side. An exact clone of this. This is Smash-Hypo' One – your father’s original. Its counterpart, Smash-Hypo' Two, is on the Empty World.’ He said it as though they had no time to waste. ‘They’re hooked up together across the space time foam - so nothing can go wrong.’
Famous last words, thought Danny. ‘How many Smash-Hypo's are there?’
Rasmus gave an unreadable look. ‘Just the two... for now.’
‘And what do you do to make it work?
‘The handle. Take it. Crank it.’
Rasmus stepped back and Danny grabbed the outlandish handle. It was huge and completely out of place, bent in the middle - no, it had been snapped in two and re-attached, but at the wrong angle, which only made it look more clumsy. The handgrip was bulbous and dirty, scuffed and old, and the whole thing looked like a mistake. Unsure, he twisted it clockwise and after a creak of complaint, it began to turn quite smoothly. He pulled at it with more weight and it suddenly broke free of his grip, gaining velocity rapidly, spinning round and round.
As if in reaction, the rest of the machine kicked into life. A deep throated hum issued from the morass of salvaged junk and radiators rattled, aerials quivered and the smallest satellite receiver dish began to rotate as the handle spin increased. Danny stepped back, intrigued but apprehensive.
The handle lost definition and became a propeller, a whirling shimmer which kicked up a swift wind that forced him back. The ribcage of white lights along the pipe tunnel dimmed briefly, as if the machine was sucking the power from them, but then they grew in intensity, brighter than before. Danny turned to see Rasmus halfway down the tunnel, breaking into a run towards the circular hatch, where Inambau nervously hopped from foot to foot.
Danny’s eyes went wide. ‘Rasmus? What’s happening?!’
Rasmus threw him a giddy look and kept on running.
The wind was vicious now, blowing Danny back. The handle blurred before the machine, producing a thunderous roar as round and round it flashed. Danny eyed it fiercely, wanting to run. The force of its blast was nearly pushing him off his feet. And then, with a shock and a jolt, the handle stopped, shuddering like a flicked fork. Danny didn’t move. In the tunnel, Rasmus stopped running and turned to watch.
Silence.
‘Why d...?’ Danny began.
And then it happened. The handle whizzed back the
other way, impossibly fast. The Smash-Hypo' shook at the seams, threatening to come apart, smoking from its vents, the wind fearsome, the thunder deafening. But there was a marked difference now. This time, it wasn’t repelling him.
This time... it was sucking him in.
Rasmus set off running again, full pelt. Inambau panicked at the door, wide-eyed and desperate. ‘Come on, Rasmus man!’ Danny’s feet slid along the metal grating, helplessly attracted by the terrible machine. His hair whipped around his face and his screams were lost to the roar. It must have malfunctioned. If he stayed here a moment longer he would be killed, hacked into a million pieces by the whirling propeller – and if that happened, what would become of Jayney?
Desperately he turned and took off after Rasmus, stretching his legs as far as he could to maximise every step, confident his newfound power would help him out. Inambau was straining with the heavy metal hatch, struggling to keep it open until they reached him.
But the ferocious suction at Danny’s back was growing stronger and he had to fight to keep his feet from being sucked off the floor. He screamed out for help.
Rasmus reached the doorway and Inambau pulled him through, to the safety of the corridor beyond, but they’d only be truly safe once the door was closed tight. Danny had to hurry. It was supremely difficult - his upgraded strength was fading fast. He had seconds to reach them before his body would give in.
He ran harder, his muscles burning, but adrenalin gave him the power to succeed. He was twenty feet from the door. Fifteen feet. Ten feet. Rasmus shouted something, but his words were lost in the breath of the storm. Five feet from the door. Two feet. He reached out his hand, yearning to be pulled to safety.
But no one helped him. Inambau eyed him with meaning and retreated from sight, and Rasmus gave him a short, sharp nod... the sort of look Danny imagined was reserved for condemned men. And then Rasmus stepped back too, allowing the storm to suck the door shut with a huge resounding clang. Danny was sealed in.
His eyes went wide. His fingers were an inch from the metal, then brushing tantalisingly across its surface, but suddenly his feet and legs were lifted out from under him and he was sucked screaming down the tunnel.
He would be mincemeat in the blink of an eye.
Closer... closer... closer...
‘Jayneyyy!’ he yelled in remorse, and then he disappeared into the Smash-Hypo's furious maw, with a blinding flash and a deafening screech of metal.
Abruptly the propeller lost velocity, grinding down the gears until it stopped. The deafening furore ended, the tunnel lay empty and still, falling into darkness once more, and the handle on the Smash-Hypo' ground to a halt with a final rusty creak.
But Danny was gone.
*
At first he was sure he was dead, mashed by the terrifying propeller. Oblivion met him... but not the kind he had been expecting. Instead of darkness, there was light. Instead of fear, there was warmth. Beautiful, comforting warmth. He had visions of psychedelic colours. Of weightlessness. Timelessness.
A sense of freedom from reality...
A trillion hues washed over him, images, feelings and thoughts. He smiled. Somehow he knew it was going to be okay - because if this was death, then death was good.
He had no sense of how long, if any time at all, he lingered in this state. It felt both momentary and eternal. What was that in the distance? A blinding light, and he was travelling towards it. He had no time to be afraid. Time didn’t seem to exist where Danny was now.
Only feelings.
Without trying he moved towards the light, into its touch, aware of another whirling torrent in its midst.
And then he was through, and in the next breath...
FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS TO DANNY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE SPACE TIME FOAM, AS HE SEARCHES FOR HIS MOTHER ON HIS FATHER'S EMPTY WORLD OF SEGNIMEDIA! BUY THE EBOOK FROM AMAZON - only £0.99/$0.99!
http://hyperurl.co/d8b0qo?IQid=qr
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