Discuss the submission Bio

Synopsis; A young girl runs away from home and the trouble brewing there. She embarks on a strange adventure that takes her from her normal life to an unknown world and a race against time.

The rear of the vehicle was segregated from the front by a clear partition of glass or plastic. Elizabeth imagined it would be very strong and she knew it was completely sound-proof. On entering the car one of the men had lifted up what she thought was a microphone or radio hand set. He had lent over it a manner suggestive of speaking but Elizabeth could not see his lips move nor hear any sound.

The doors on either side of her were without handles and there were no handles or controls for opening the windows. This made the journey even more uncomfortable, if it wasn't already bad enough, as it was very hot and 'stuffy'. Elizabeth gazed out of the window as they sped along, trying to come to terms with what was happening to her. The events of the night raced through her head, from the strange train journey to the deserted station. From the unknown city and it's odd inhabitants, finally to the phone and her 'arrest'. It was unbelievable and unbearable. The shock of this last event and the fear of her unknown destination, were too much to take. She had been brave and determined before, despite her fears and surprise, but now she felt her eyes fill. As the car moved through the black night, she cried, her face buried in her hands.

She wanted her Mum and Dad and Michael and Uncle John. She wanted Bob and her other friends. She wanted her warm, safe bed and her lovely home. She wanted her boring, uninteresting, wonderful town!! She wasn't so desperate yet that she wanted her school, the Piggley twins, or horror of horrors, Miss Ragshott! But she felt if she were here much longer, she might become that desperate. Somehow this thought had a positive effect on her and her tears stopped. Wiping her face, while admonishing herself for being so 'weak', she began once more to take note of her surroundings. The streets were still utterly deserted and the buildings dark. The men after placing her in the car had paid no attention to her what so ever. As she looked at the back of their unmoving heads she noticed the car was heading into a brighter area.

As this area became more noticeable, she could make out a large, brightly lit building. The car eventually stopped in front of this building and through the window Elizabeth could read the legend:

CENTRAL CONTROL

Hoping that finally she would be able to explain her actions and more importantly her predicament, Elizabeth moved to the desk. Before she had time to open her mouth and say a single word the woman spoke,

"I'm sorry I don't understand", Elizabeth answered quickly before further questions arrived. "I am lost, I was trying to reach my Uncle John and...."

Before she could go any further the women interrupted her,

Elizabeth stood, her mouth open, glaring at the door the women had gone through. She couldn't believe this was happening. Something in her 'snapped'. With anger and frustration brewing explosively, she marched around the desk and to the door the women had exited. She had had enough, she was determined to tell somebody her story and to gain some sort of sensible response. On reaching the door she grasped the handle and turned it. There was no response, the door was locked fast. Elizabeth 'exploded'! She began to kick and pound on the door with her fists and scream at the top of her lungs. The noise in the confined space was tremendous but it did not deter her. She continued until her feet and hands ached and her throat was raw. There was no response to her outburst, and despite the treatment she had dealt out to the door, it looked as implacable as ever. The only benefit that came from the outburst was how good it made her feel!

Realizing she had no choice, for she knew, the door she had arrived by, would also be locked, she entered the door she had been instructed to. This room was as large as the dark-green room but smelt of fresh pine! This smell was such a surprise and so pleasant after the room she had left, she stood for several moments breathing deeply. After this she took note of her surroundings. The room was also windowless but painted dark-blue. The lighting was more subdued but she could see clearly a door at the far end and several seats and benches around the walls. Apart from this the room was as bare as the others.

Elizabeth dropped down on to the nearest bench, which was covered in very worn, brown leather. She was exhausted, it had been a long and fraught night and at this point there looked to be no end to it. She considered trying the door at the far end of the room but felt too tired to move. Removing her back-pack she placed it on the bench next to her and rested her head upon it. Within moments she had lifted her feet onto the bench, stretched out and had fallen asleep.

She was awakened by bright sunlight shining into her eyes and a cold breeze tickling her neck. Slowly opening her eyes, she saw the light was coming from the far door which was wide open.

"Ah so you are awake at last!" a voice spoke from close by and made her sit bolt up right in shock.

"Sorry, sorry", the voice continued with great concern, "I didn't mean to frighten you"

Elizabeth placed her feet on the floor and turned in the direction of the voice. She found herself looking into the anxious face of a young man sitting in what appeared to be a type of wheel chair. He was pleasant looking with incredibly blue eyes and a mop of fair, curly hair.

"I really am very sorry", he said again, "Are you feeling well?"

It seemed a curious question but well intentioned.

"Oh.., well yes I'm fine apart from being lost" she answered more severely than she had intended. Despite his gentle demeanor she wasn't very happy at the idea of him watching her sleep.

"Would you like some breakfast", he inquired suddenly.

Elizabeth was non-plussed for a moment, and then her stomach answered for her with an embarrassing rumble. For a brief moment the two looked at each other then broke into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. By the time they had stopped, Elizabeth's former misgivings were dispelled.

From a pouch at the side of his chair, the young man produced a parcel wrapped in a clean white cloth and tide with a knot. The sharp smell of onions assailed her nostrils as he undid this bundle. Delving in he pulled forth two large sandwiches and handed one to Elizabeth. The bread was a soft brown colour with a flowery crust and looked delicious. The sandwich was thick and heavy and her companion, who had immediately started to devour his, tried to explain,

"Cheesh 'n hunion" he said through a mouthful of food, "Wovelly!"

Elizabeth interrupted this as, 'Cheese and Onion' and ' Lovely!" as she looked with some misgivings at her own sandwich. She liked cheese and didn't mind onions if they were cooked but cheese and onion for breakfast! Never the less the bread was soft to the touch and in truth the sandwich really did look, 'Wovelly!" Without further delay Elizabeth, took a small bite, immediately followed by a larger one, the sandwich was delicious!

For a short while, (it was short, as the sandwiches were consumed in record time!) conversation was neglected. Apart from a mumbled, "Fank oo", from Elizabeth as she was passed a cup of cold water, poured from a flask produced from the same pouch, nothing further was said until the last morsel had disappeared.

"Sorry the bread wasn't very fresh but it has been in my bag since yesterday", were the first words spoken when eating was finally over. "My name is Peter, by the way, what is yours?" he finished with a smile.

"Elizabeth", she answered and then gushed forth in the relief of having someone to talk to,

"Oh-the-sandwhich-was-wonderful-thank-you-it-was-really-kind-of-you- Oh-it's-so-nice-not-to-be-asked-what-my-number-is-I-dont'-know-what's-going-on!"

She stopped only because she had run out of breath. She sat gasping, as Peter looked at her in amazement. Realizing she was in some distress, he spoke quietly and reassuringly to her.

"Don't be upset, take your time" he said helpfully, "Where are you from? Can I help you in any way?"

Elizabeth told Peter the whole story. From her running away to ending up in this room and waking to find him there. It took some time to tell and Peter remained silent throughout. Many people are said to be good 'listeners' but often these same people are only awaiting the opportunity to speak themselves. Peter was not one of those, he listened hard to everything Elizabeth had to say, his face a picture of concentration. When she had finished relating her tale, she followed with a flood of questions. Where was she exactly? Was this strange place a police station? Why were the people she had met so odd and rude?

Peter was silent for a long while looking closely at Elizabeth and when he finally spoke his words were measured and careful. It was as though he realized the impact they might have upon his already distraught companion.

"Elizabeth, I don't know what to tell you. Your story of your arrival is so very strange. As for the City and those who live here, they are the same to any outsider and I should know! And the National Protectors, who you called 'police' they always, act that way that's their job."

"But Peter I don't understand, what is the name of this city? I have never heard of a place like it anywhere in England!"

Peter answered,

"Ing gland? What is ing gland?"

"England, England!" Elizabeth practically shouted in exasperation, "The country we live in, the British Isles, the U.K."

Peter looked totally perplexed, "Elizabeth, I have never heard of these places, are they far from the City?"

Elizabeth was dumbfounded, how could anyone not know the name of the land they lived in? It was impossible! Looking closely at Peter she attempted to determine whether he was insane or just plain stupid!

However she could not help but feel he was none of these things and if that was the case he was telling the truth. It was now her turn to talk in an even and measured tone as Peter had done to her.

"Listen, Peter", she began, "We live on an Island called England, though sometimes it is called the United Kingdom or the British Isles. We have a Queen whose name, like mine, is Elizabeth! I live in a small town in England called Bream. You live in this strange city whose name I do not know and...."

Here Peter interrupted her, "I don't live in the City!" he said with a shudder, "I live by the River"

"But you are here and besides what about..." Elizabeth stopped it was no good they were going around in circles. It was obvious that despite how nice Peter was, he was very confused and wouldn't be able to help her.

"Look", she began again speaking softly, "Is there anyone else I can talk to. I must try to get home. I know my parents will know by now that I am missing and they will be, Oh I hate to think what they will be like; I have done such a stupid and selfish thing"

Leaping from her seat she dashed to the door she had entered the previous night, only to find it was locked as tightly as all the others!

"No! No!" she shouted tears starting to form in her eyes once more, "Why do they lock all of these doors? How can I get back to the station if the doors are locked?"

Peter with the same sensibility he had previously shown, recognized that for the present, talk of where they lived must be put aside. Elizabeth was very upset and he must do all he could to help. He explained, as best as he was able, their situation.

"Elizabeth you can never go back that way. I should know I have been here a few times before!"

He went on to explain that he and his Uncle Matt and many of the 'River people' had traveled to the City the previous day. They did this once a week to sell fish, vegetables and hand-made goods at the market. It was the only time 'outsiders' were allowed into the City for the rest of the time the gates and doors remained locked. It happened occasionally that one or two visitors forgot about the time and found themselves locked in for the night because of the curfew. At Elizabeth's somewhat puzzled look he had explained, that the curfew meant all inhabitants had to be off the streets by a certain time. Elizabeth knew what curfew meant, she had looked puzzled because she had never seen one in action before.

Peter went on to further explain, that he had gone off exploring the City after Uncle Matt had entered into a long negotiation over the price of marrow's with a shopkeeper. He had become lost and just as Elizabeth had, found himself escorted to Central Control. This had happened before and the National Protectors were exactly as Elizabeth had described them, seemingly lacking in interest or conversation and simply doing the task they were assigned to. He suggested that they probably thought Elizabeth was from the river. Peter was not in the least worried for he knew his uncle would be waiting outside of the gates for him. All he had to do was pass through the N.A.S.T.I. building and he then go home.

At the name 'Nasti', Elizabeth interrupted him,

"Excuse me Peter but last night the woman who sent me to this room said that name, what does it mean?"

It was Peter's turn to look as though Elizabeth were mad or stupid!

"You must know what NASTI is, everyone does, and you must have a place like it in Bream!" he said in a lightly shocked voice.

"I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about, I have never heard of any Nasti building any where in Bream or anywhere else for that matter!"

"I suppose you will be telling me next", Peter continued, a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "That you don't have a National Number!"

Elizabeth's silence answered this question for him. For a few moments they were both silent, then Peter spoke once more, all traces of sarcasm gone from his voice.

"Elizabeth you had best come with me, I will show you where to go", then as the idea struck him, he continued with enthusiasm, "I could take you to meet Uncle Matt and Aunt Pegg! They are very wise, I'm certain they could help you!"

Elizabeth was very touched by this further kindness,and though her natural instinct warned her about going anywhere with someone she did not know; she knew she could trust Peter. How she knew this she could not say, it was simply a feeling of trust. She thanked Peter and together they headed to the open door.

Outside a bright sun shone from a cloudless peacock-blue sky. It was already very warm and promised to be warmer still. Outside of the room they had vacated was a vast open courtyard. As Elizabeth glanced right and left, she saw this courtyard was closed in with extremely high, ivy encrusted walls. Directly ahead but a long way off stood a large building,

"The N.A.S.T.I. building", Peter mentioned aware of where she was looking.

Elizabeth could not make out to many features from this distance but it looked imposing. Beneath their feet the slabs were of the same type as those outside of the station and looked to be laid out in a series of pathways all leading to the building. Dissecting these many paths, were vast flower beds. These beds were laid out in a similar symmetrical way as though even the flowers must be regimented! This was no longer the case however, as the flowers, either by neglect or natural exuberance had burst from their confines. The paths were 'littered' with trailing stems, leaves and blooms of every possible hue. The flowers were beautiful, their scent heady and Elizabeth thought it the best sight she had seen since arriving in this strange place.

As Elizabeth walked, Peter propelled his chair with strong thrusts of his arms. Elizabeth had tried to avoid mentioning Peter's wheel chair, as she did not want to seem insensitive but it was so curious and so beautifully crafted, she could not help finally asking about it.

"Peter I hope you will excuse me for asking", she began, "But I have never seen a wheel chair quite like yours before"

"Wheelchair?" for a second Peter seemed confused, then he laughed, "Oh I see, a chair with wheels! I like that; I think I shall call it that from now on! Well this 'wheelchair' was made for me by Uncle Matt it must be two years ago now. He made this one me after I had out grown my last one; you see I have never been able to walk "He said this without any indication of self-pity.

"It really is a marvelous chair", Elizabeth said with some relief at his reaction to her question. Taking heart from this response, she asked another question that she had been wanted to ask. This question was an even harder one than the wheelchair.

"Peter", she said gently, "You have mentioned your uncle and aunt but you haven't mentioned your parents, I ..... Was, well what I mean to say....." She felt herself start to blush with shame and regret as she noticed a shadow cross Peter's eyes, at the word 'parents'

"They went out one day fishing. I was only a child at the time and stayed with Aunt Pegg" he said in a quiet voice," I have been told it was a fair day without a hint of bad weather. They never returned. Uncle Matt and the whole of the Village searched for them but no trace was ever found.

Elizabeth was too stunned and upset to say a word. She couldn't imagine life without her parents and the thought of them dying was inconceivable.

"But that was many years ago", Peter said more brightly, "I don't dwell on it. Do you juggle?"

"Wh...what?" Elizabeth asked, completely bemused by his question.

"Juggle", Peter laughed, "Like this!"

With this he pulled from yet another pouch on his chair, a number of brightly coloured balls, which, to Elizabeth's amazement and delight, he sent cascading into the air. She was unable to count how many he was juggling, so fast did they fly. All she was able to do was to marvel at the intricate patterns he so easily produced. With a final flourish he sent one multi-coloured ball sailing high into the air, were the sunlight sent dazzling rays across its shiny surface. This ball fell into his open and empty palm! In the fleeting moment of its descent, he had returned, unnoticed by Elizabeth, all the other balls to their pouch!

Elizabeth broke into spontaneous applause, she couldn't help it! Peter his face one vast beaming smile, said laughing,

"Ah, I see you like tricks" sending this final ball rolling up his arm as he spoke.

Elizabeth amazed once more, watched as the ball ran over his shoulders, down his other arm and into his cupped hands, which closed, completely hiding it. Holding his closed hands up to Elizabeth he said,

"Blow"

Elizabeth, leaning a little forward, blew against his hands, which immediately opened to reveal a paper flower with multi-coloured petals!

"For my charming companion", he said, handing it to her with a flourish.

Elizabeth once more applauded,

"That was wonderful!" she gushed, "How did you learn to do that? I wish I could"

As they continued their journey towards the NASTI building Peter explained it took lots and lots of practice and he would gladly give her some lessons. In a few moments Peter had managed to dispel the gloomy atmosphere his tragic story had produced.

Perhaps because the courtyard was so large, Elizabeth had not realized at first glance, how large the NASTI building was, for as they drew closer to the steps that led up to the building, she was astonished by its immense size. Looking up she saw huge pillars and arches, dark windows and a mighty domed roof with a large flag pole, complete with flag, reaching heaven wards. She was not able to make out the design on the flag but was fairly certain it was not the Union Jack, as the colours were wrong.

She turned to ask Peter about the flag and was horrified to see he was lifting himself very carefully, using only the strength of his arms, from his chair. The initial step was high and this was an advantage for Peter as he was able to use this height to maneuver his bottom onto the step.

"Peter, what are you doing?" She asked in a startled voice.

"Oh... erm, don't worry" he answered a slightly embarrassed tone to his voice. "It's the only way up and the door to outside is on the far side of the building"

As he said this he began to pull small levers at the side of his chair which enabled him to fold it flat. Once this operation was complete he lifted the chair onto his knees. This was then held in place with a strap, obviously designed for such a purpose, that he placed around his neck.

Elizabeth could not believe what she was witnessing. Did he really intend to climb this massive staircase in such a way? Had he really had to do it before?

"Peter, there must be a ramp of some sort, I mean, this is a Government building and they all have ramps don't they?"

The look on Peter's face told her this was not the case in this city. She had been about to mention that every large public building in Bream had access ramps but the words caught in her throat. If you know the expression 'To rub salt into someone's wounds' you will understand how she felt at that moment.

"You must let me help" she offered, "My bag is only light, I know I could manage your chair"

Peter totally refused. His refusal was polite but the tone of his voice left no doubt that he would not change his mind.

"Please Elizabeth", he appealed to her, "Go on ahead, I will meet you at the top"

Once more she felt her words and the protest in them, stick in her throat and as a terrible burning sensation began in her eyes, she started up the steps. It was a long climb and she had to stop several times to catch her breath. On the first occasion she had stopped, she had looked back at Peter but the sight was so painful, so hurtful she had to turn away. What kind of place was this? How could anyone be so callous, so negligent, as to not supply access to those who most needed it? Where was this dreadful city? Sitting on the top step these thoughts span about in her head as her breathing gradually returned to normal. As she looked out across the courtyard she was able to see, in the distance now, the Central Control building. It looked bleak and uninviting, a fact that did not surprise her. An awful mixed feeling of shame and anger was welling up inside her making her want to cry and scream at the same time.

She remembered an incident one day when she and Michael were on a visit to Uncle John. They had been entering the Museum at the same time as a woman in a wheel chair had been leaving. A cork mat had been placed before the door, for visitors to wipe their feet on before entering. This mat was heavy and thick, and the woman in the wheel chair was struggling to get her front wheels onto it. Uncle John stepped forward to assist put was stopped by a curt refusal. The women achieved her exit unassisted and went on her way. Elizabeth had been a little taken aback by the women's attitude and said something to the effect of her rudeness to her uncle. Uncle John made a statement that she now recollected.

"You must remember", he said smiling at her, "That disabled people are the same as everyone else, they have good days and bad days. All that most disabled people ask for is to be treated as equals. Sometimes I imagine that offers of help, however well intended, can be annoying to a person who is capable of taking care of themselves despite their disability"

Elizabeth thought of this statement and while she felt she understood it, she felt certain Uncle John did not mean in circumstances such as these? A person who had to drag a wheel chair up these mountainous steps was not being treated as in equal to her mind. The sound of sharp, panting breath aroused her from her reverie. Peter was now only a few steps below her and from behind she could see his arms shaking and his neck bent over in the effort he had made. It was the most humbling sight Elizabeth had ever encountered. With one final push, Peter lifted himself up to the last step and swung his chair from about his neck. His face was bright red and his hair plastered to his head, as perspiration streamed down his face. His shirt, which had been a pale blue, was now stained deep blue from his exertions. His neck had a terrible raw look to it, were the strap had rubbed and chafed the skin. Elizabeth sat down by his side completely at loss for words. There were so many things she wanted to say, about injustice and respect but felt unable to do so. She seemed to instinctively know, that Peter did not want to talk about it. Remembering the bottle of water he had given her earlier, she produced the remains of it and passed it silently to him. He accepted it with a grim smile and drank every drop. After a few moments he began to regain his composure and turning to Elizabeth he said,

"Well I have my breath back shall we go in?" pointing to a doorway behind them.

Elizabeth, whose concentration had been focused totally in the other direction, now turned in the direction he had indicated. A broad, open area, paved in the now familiar slabs, led to a pair of huge doors, above which was attached a large sign. As the couple approached Elizabeth was able to make out the legend printed in enormous letters on the sign, it read;

NATIONAL ASYLUM for SURPLUS and TRANSIENT INDIVIDUALS

Elizabeth had finally found out what NASTI stood for, though she had know idea what it meant! As they drew within a few feet of the doors they unexpectedly, at least to Elizabeth, swung silently open. Peter noticing her startled look said,

"Don't be alarmed, they always do that. It shouldn't take us to long now. I am really looking forward to seeing Uncle Matt.... "

Trying to keep her nervousness in check, Elizabeth entered the building at Peter's side. The room inside was huge and Elizabeth had to crane her neck upwards to see its ceiling. This ceiling was a mass of cracks and flaking paint crossed by wooden beams. These beams were home to a flock of pigeons that took to the air and flew about in an agitated manner as the couple entered. The walls were hung, with what looked to Elizabeth to be tapestries of immense size. The subject matter was almost impossible to determine as the tapestries were faded and worn in many places. Elizabeth could make out several figures that may or may not have been in a woodland setting. The room itself was filled with row upon row of empty, wooden chairs, with a clear, central aisle. This aisle led to a low stage upon which stood a tall desk. This desk was unoccupied and above it, hanging on what seemed inadequate cord for such a large object, was a clock. The hour hand of the clock was on 9 and the minute hand, seconds away from 12. As they moved down the central aisle the minute hand reached its apex. As this action took place a piecing, unseen bell rang out and a man, and the high backed chair he was seated in, slowly rose up from behind the desk.

His chair must have been moved by mechanical means for as it reached a certain height; Elizabeth heard a distinctive click and the chair came to a slightly shaky stop. The man was thin and his head completely bald. He was dressed in a white shirt with a black tie and a black jacket, what he was wearing on his legs and feet they could not see for they were hidden behind the desk. At this strange arrival Peter had given a small groan and slowly shook his head. Elizabeth, whispering as though in a library or church, asked Peter what was wrong.

"Oh, I've met this man before", he said in a loud, bold voice, not in the least intimidated by the situation. "He is not exactly what you would call friendly!"

By this time they had arrived at the front row of seats and Peter indicated to Elizabeth that she should sit. He placed a finger on his lips to show they should be silent and pushed himself slightly forward. The man in his tall desk, (his desk top was at least six foot above the stage) paid no attention to them but busied himself with a stack of papers. These he rustled in a most irritating manner as he peered at them through a tiny pair of spectacles perched on the end of his nose. This rustling and shuffling went on for several minuets, and Elizabeth had the distinct impression that it was being done simply for 'effect', a case of 'look how important and busy I am'! Peter seemed used to this performance and waited, his arms crossed and an amused look upon his face.

Eventually the man gave one last shuffle to his papers and placed them on the desk. Taking from his sleeve, what looked to Elizabeth to be an extremely grubby handkerchief, he removed his spectacles and began to polish them. As he went about this task, he peered in a short sighted manner in their general direction. When his spectacles were cleaned to his satisfaction, he replaced them, blew his nose, emitting a loud honking sound as he did so, and returned the handkerchief to its former home. Placing his hands on the far edge of his desk, he pulled himself forward until he was leaning in a precarious manner over the edge. Staring directly at Peter he said in high pitched voice;

"Step forward if you will!", and continued immediately, "Quickly, I am a very busy man I have other tasks to attended to!"

Elizabeth, clenched her fists in anger and frustration at the rudeness of the mans voice and the thoughtless comment 'Step forward'. Peter however did not appear to be concerned, and pushed himself forward until his chair reached the stage. From this position he needed to lean as far back as possible and crane his neck in order to look upward into the mans face.

"National number", he snapped, as Peter looked placidly into his face.

"Sup273 dash 6119", Peter answered in a dull and lifeless voice.

"Do you mean S.U.P. 273 hyphen 6119?" the man snapped.

"Yes, that's what I mean" Peter answered, amazing Elizabeth once more with his patience at this rude behavior.

"Then why didn't you say so? I am extremely busy, you know!"

Peter made no further answer and the man seeming pleased with the effect of his words, continued;

"S.U.P.273 hyphen 6119, yes, yes, ah I see you have been here before. Let me see now, ah yes here we are", he turned over several sheets of paper. "Registered, 'River Village resident .. UNABLE' ", at this point her peered knowingly at Peter's chair.

Peter went a deep red and Elizabeth realizing that the mans rude behavior had finally upset him, jumped to her feet.

"What do you mean 'unable' " she shouted out, "How can you be so rude?"

The man looked shocked at this interruption, and answered in a some what flustered manner his high pitched voice climbing higher in his irritation,

"What is the meaning of this? Who are you? How dare you interrupt official business!"

"My name is Elizabeth Rodgers" he was answered in a loud and angry voice, "And I don't care what business you are doing, there is no need for you to talk to Peter that way. And by the way I think it is an absolute disgrace that you do not have access for wheelchairs. What kind of official building is this? I would like to make a complaint to who ever is in charge. Who is in charge? I think you should call them right this moment don't you?"

During this outburst Peters face had changed from one of hurt to one of immense pleasure. He looked at Elizabeth with joyful surprise and respect. Never a person to make a 'fuss' on his own behalf, he was deeply moved by Elizabeth's words and concern for him. The official meanwhile was shocked beyond all belief! He had never in all of his days at NASTI, been spoken to in such a manner! It was unthinkable! There could be only one explanation the person before him must be mad. Who else but a mad person would talk to an official in such a way? 'River Rats' he thought to himself, nothing but trouble! 'River Rats' was the derogatory name that certain people from the City had given to Peter's people.

"Now look here...." he started, trying to regain his position of authority. But he was cut short by a further interruption by Elizabeth whose 'dander' as they say, was well and truly up!

"And an other thing" she said from her position that was now directly beneath the officials chair. "Why are your police so unhelpful? I am not a criminal, I'm just lost! Why did I have to stay locked up all night? Why couldn't I phone my parents? It's not right!"

The official was convinced now. She was completely mad! Fearing for his safety he pressed two buttons. The first opened a small door on the far side of the room the second started the mechanism on his chair, which began to descend.

Peter began to laugh, laugh so hard that his face turned red and his eyes began to stream. As they say laughter is infectious and Elizabeth soon joined him, though she was not certain as to what they were laughing at!

When he could finally speak Peter said,

"Well that was worth being locked up all night for. I have never, ever known him to be at lost for words. I think you scared the living daylights out of him!" Then he continued in a quieter tone, "Thank you for speaking up for me, it was very brave and kind"

Elizabeth blushed, and Peter saved her any further embarrassment by pointing at the open door.

"Look, the outside world at last, let’s go and get some fresh air!"

Happy to comply, Elizabeth followed him to the door and outside into the bright morning sun.