by Joseph Evans
“Excuse me, sir,” Seckry asked. “Is this the stop for Estergate High?” He clutched a hand rail and nearly toppled over as the rickety monorail he was riding to his new school suddenly veered to the left.
The man sitting opposite him rolled his eyes.
“No, it’s not the stop for Estergate High. Like I told you five stops ago, I’ll tell you when it’s the stop for Estergate High.”
“Yeah, right, thanks,” Seckry said as his backpack nearly slid out of his grip and onto the lap of an elderly lady.
It was Seckry’s first day at his new high school in the city of Skyfall, and he was already more than a little overwhelmed. The monorail had taken them through a winding maze of high rise buildings and dimly lit tunnels and they had even passed through what seemed to be someone’s living room at one point, but as it sped around another corner, Seckry blinked in amazement.
The buildings on either side of the tracks had opened up and the entire expanse of the city was now visible. It was gigantic; a vast, circular, living thing with a cluster of tall structures at its centre. The early morning sun was rising behind them, casting a pink and orange haze, and a couple of blimps were hanging sluggishly in the air.
As he admired the view, something caught his eye. It was a long, white tower, just to the right of the city centre, jutting into the clouds and engraved with some kind of logo. Seckry had to strain to read it, but as he did so, his stomach churned.
Endrin Corp.
It was the headquarters of the Endrin Corporation, a scientific research company that Seckry had come to despise over the past six months.
Two years ago it had been discovered that Seckry’s hometown, the quiet village of Marne, had been sitting on a pocket of unstable energy. There had been government talks and meetings and arguments about the extraction of it, and there had inevitably been protests from the people of Marne, but a year and a half later it was officially announced that Endrin were to be setting up an extraction site right at the heart of the village.
Seckry remembered the letter they had received from the government.
‘In the best interests of the people of Marne,’ it had said. ‘The village is no longer a safe place to reside. All residents will be evacuated and given sufficient accommodation in neighbouring cities.’
And so it was that Seckry, his mum, and his sister had been forced out of their home and sent to the east partition of Skyfall, while all of Seckry’s friends had either been sent to other, smaller cities, or to one of the three other Skyfall partitions, the north, the west and the south.
They had only been in the city for one night, and Seckry was already missing home terribly. He missed the cobbled streets of the village, the town clock at the centre, the ellonberry fields, his friend, Busbee Knowles, and his house. But most of all, he missed his bedroom.
He had woken up numerous times last night and tried to reach for his bedside table before realising that it was no longer beside him, and that he was no longer in the home that he knew.
The monorail swerved to the right and Seckry gripped the handle he was clutching onto even tighter. He peered out of the window. Was his new school really this far away from his flat?
Sitting a few seats away was a tall boy with spiky black hair and pierced ears. Seckry guessed he was about the same age as himself, fourteen, and hoped he was heading to Estergate too, that way Seckry could follow him. Seckry would have asked the boy if that’s where he was heading, but he was wearing a chunky set of headphones and was bobbing his head emotively, with his eyes closed.
Before Seckry had time to contemplate getting the boy’s attention, there was a deafening screech and the monorail slowed to a halt. An enormous contemporary building made of glass and wood flooded into view.
The entrance to the place was swarming with teenagers of all ages and a large plaque just outside the carriage read:
Estergate Institute of Higher Education
Where Excellence Excels
The man opposite Seckry turned to him and said, “This is the stop for–”
“I got it,” Seckry cut in politely. “Thanks.”
As he stepped off the carriage he lost sight of the spiky haired boy, but that didn’t matter now, the monorail had delivered him right to the school’s entrance.
Seckry had never seen anything like it. It was a million miles away from his old, quiet school in Marne.
The main gates, at which Seckry was standing, opened out into a wide courtyard with a statue at its centre, and beyond that lay the main building, which was shaped like a huge, oval tube, with random glass corridors poking out of it here and there and leading to other, equally oddly shaped classrooms and offices.
After making his way through the swarms of pupils gathered outside the main entrance, Seckry approached the reception desk and told them his name and that he was a new starter. A couple of phone calls were made, and a few moments later, a friendly faced teacher with heavily rimmed glasses appeared from one of the corridors.
“Mr Sevenstars?” she said brightly.
Seckry nodded tentatively.
“Welcome to Estergate Institute.” She gave him a warm smile and shook his hand. “My name is Mrs Furrowfog. Now, if you’d just like to follow me down the corridor here where we can have a quick chat before introducing you to Mr Gobbledee, the headmaster.”
Seckry followed her into a classroom where she picked up an already made mug of coffee and took a sip.
“Have a seat, Seckraman, have a seat. So, you’ve come from Marne, just south of here, is that right?”
“That’s right,” Seckry said. “It’s about an hour’s train journey away.”
“Yes, I visited there once,” Mrs Furrowfog said happily. “Lovely place, Marne.”
“Really?” Seckry said, brightening up.
“That gorgeous old town clock in the centre, and the cobbled streets. Oh, and the fields and fields of ellonberry bushes. Such a shame what’s happening to it with this extraction site.”
“Yeah,” Seckry said. “Yeah it is.” The thought of Marne right now was threatening to make him cry with homesickness, but he knew he had to hold it in and keep his composure. Skyfall City was where he was going to be living now, as much as he’d like to deny it, and this school, Estergate High, was where he was going to be spending the next four years.
Mrs Furrowfog must have realised she had touched a sore point as she smiled apologetically and changed the topic.
“I’m sure you’ll come to love Skyfall over time. So many exciting things here for someone your age. So many possibilities and dreams. Have you tried Maldo’s famous melted chocolate and seven syrup ice cream yet?”
“Uh . . . no, I haven’t,” Seckry said.
“Best ice cream in the world, and you can only get it here in Skyfall.”
“I’ll have to look out for that,” Seckry noted. “Thanks.”
Mrs Furrowfog smiled and took another sip of coffee.
“It takes everyone a while to settle in to somewhere new. If you ever need to chat, that’s what I’m here for, okay?”
“Thank you,” Seckry said, and he meant it.
The door opened and a small man with grey, wispy hair, a bulbous nose, and a pair of round spectacles hobbled in, looking slightly flustered and confused.
“Ah, headmaster,” said Mrs Furrowfog, setting down her mug. “This is Seckraman Sevenstars. The pupil from Marne we’ve been expecting.”
“Yes,” muttered the headmaster, “Oh right . . . uh, Merrinda, have you seen my tie around here anywhere?”
“I’m afraid I haven’t, headmaster,” Mrs Furrowfog said, but the headmaster didn’t seem to be listening, he was more interested in pulling out drawers, lifting up chairs and peering at the empty space with a suspicious frown.
“Right you are, right you are.”
“Anyway, this is the pupil we’ve been expecting, headmaster, Mr Seckraman Seven–”
“Coffee!” blurted the headmaster. “I haven’t had
my morning coffee. How could I have forgotten?”
“I’ll make you one while you’re chatting to Seckraman, headmaster, there’s no need to worry. Now Seckraman arrived yesterday and he–”
“Dear Gedin and ghastly Gainstop!” said the headmaster in exasperation. “What on earth is that?”
He was staring at a plant on the classroom’s desk as though it was about to leap at him and wrap its vines around his neck.
“It’s a Pintheus Maletonus plant from the school greenhouse . . . um, Mr Gobbledee,” Mrs Furrowfog said suspiciously, tilting her head to one side. “Have you remembered to take your special medicine this morning?”
“Of course I have, Merrinda! Don’t be silly now. Do you know what would happen if I didn’t take my – wait! Come to think of it, I may have forgotten to. Yes. In fact, I am quite certain that I did not take my special medicine this morning.” He stuck his hands to his hips and said, “Well that settles that!” with an air of finality.
Mrs Furrowfog turned to Seckry and gave him an apologetic smile.
“Excuse me for one moment. I’ll be as quick as I can.” She left the room and closed the door behind her.
Seckry felt incredibly uncomfortable. He was alone in a room with his new headmaster, who seemed to be either drunk, mentally unstable, or a combination of the two. He swallowed heavily and tried to avoid the headmaster’s gaze.
“Is that you, Fellibrund?” the headmaster said, peering at Seckry with one eye closed and the other bulging out of its socket.
“No. My name’s Seckry,” Seckry said nervously.
“Oh . . . right. Yes of course. What am I thinking? Fellibrund died seven years ago.”
There was a moment of silence before the headmaster burst into hysterical laughter. Seckry clutched his hands together and hoped that Mrs Furrowfog was going to return any minute.
As the headmaster nearly fell face first onto the classroom floor in fits of giggling, Mrs Furrowfog entered holding a blue flask.
“Here, here, Allon, I’ve brought you some of your special medicine, okay? I’m going to give you this cup and you’re going to drink it, okay?”
She poured some luminous blue liquid into the cup and the smell of it hit Seckry within seconds. It made his eyes water. It was like paint stripper.
“You’re killing me, Merrinda!” the headmaster laughed, slapping his leg and shaking his head.
“Come on now, Allon, how about a sip, eh?” Mrs Furrowfog held the cup to the headmaster’s lips and rubbed his back with her other hand.
He stopped laughing and sniffed the air. “Something smells rotten in here,” he said, and snatched it from her before downing the bright liquid in three huge gulps, throwing the empty cup across the room, then seizing up like a wooden plank and dropping to the floor.
Mrs Furrowfog sighed.
“Seckry, is that what you’d prefer to be called, for short?”
“Yeah, everyone calls me Seckry.”
“Seckry, I’m so sorry you had to see that.”
Seckry waved it away. “It’s fine. Uh . . . Is he okay?”
“Mr Gobbledee will be up and about in a few moments and back to normal again.”
Seckry stared at the lifeless headmaster uncomfortably.
“What was, uh . . . what was wrong with him?”
“Mr Gobbledee has a very rare medical condition. It’s not something that is widely discussed with pupils so I can’t comment on it further, but I regret that you had to see your headmaster in this fashion. Especially on your first day.”
“It’s no problem, honestly,” Seckry said, and he could see that the headmaster’s eyes were opening.
There was a groan and the headmaster sat up sluggishly, looking around the classroom.
“Oh Merrinda,” he said, devastated. “I wasn’t . . . ?”
Mrs Furrowfog nodded quickly and helped him into a chair.
“Oh, dear me, I am so sorry. And who do we have here?”
“My name’s Seckraman, sir.”
“Very nice to meet you, Seckraman,” said the headmaster, and then quietly he whispered, “Did the boy see everything, Merrinda?”
“I’m afraid so,” Mrs Furrowfog whispered back.
The headmaster patted his chest searchingly. “Good heavens, I haven’t even put on my tie.” He pulled a bright red tie from his trouser pocket and fastened it around his neck.
Chapter Two
Late for Cutson
