Plain of the Fourteen Pillars - Book 1

by T K Foster

“Now don’t you worry about that,” Brock said sternly, “it’s not important.”

  Yeah, alright then, their association with Ballders was obvious – they were all merchants – but this whole fugitive business was gnawing at Barret; and although Brock wouldn’t divulge why they had been branded outlaws, he did happen to casually mention that if he were to ever be found on Bradley by any one council authority he would most certainly be either castrated or decapitated, or hitherto punished in accordance with the Vile Punishment Administrators Act, which was also dependent on the actual council he was eventually brought before. Barry on the other hand was free to roam particular portions of Bradley only.

  “That’s why I gave you a job,” Brock said to Barret, “and you’re not the only one, I have one if not more merchants on every relevant plain.”

  “Relevant plain?” Barret said, implicating a question.

  There were relevant plains and irrelevant plains, which really meant that there were plains they were able to travel to and plains they were not able to travel to, quite simply.

  Apparently....

  “This big brass universe of ours is made up of infinite plains. Well, maybe not the universe entirely, but certainly a chunk of it least ways. Which chunk? How big a chunk?” Brock shrugged his shoulders. “In any event, we are Plains Traders first and explorers second.”

  “So everything I sell on Bradley you’ve acquired from other plains?” Barret asked.

  As a Plains Trader one would move between the plains gathering and acquiring unique items by whatever means applicable at the time. Obviously the most applicable means available was currency or barter, though theft was also an option. This of course was dependent on the circumstances surrounding an item, like its accessibility. Was it up for sale cheap in a marketplace, or was it overpriced on the upper storey of a high-rise department store? Was it simply in somebody’s front yard, or was it behind a glass case in a maximum security museum? Maybe some freckle-faced kid with a bone stuck through his nose had it atop his fat head, or maybe some voluptuous woman dressed in red and standing next to a red velvet covered door had it wrapped around her little toe. In such a big brass universe of random possibilities, chance was unavoidable, and one had to be quick to take advantage of every situation on offer.

  “Sounds busy,” said Billy.

  “And very often dangerous too,” Barry added.

  Intrigued, and yes, a little confused, Gabby lifted her legs up onto the lounge where her knees were facing Billy and just touching his trousers; she asked, “Which plain are we on now?”

  “Four,” was Barry’s response.

  “Four?” Barret repeated.

  “Yes, four,” Brock reiterated.

  “Do you mean like, plain number four?” Billy suggested.

  “Yes.”

  “Aha!” Rod broke in, “As in four pillars.”

  “Correct,” said Barry.

  “That will mean that our Bradley is number fourteen?” Cetra ventured.

  “Yes,” Brock smiled, “Plain of Fourteen Pillars.”

  Cetra clapped and bounced in her seat. “Yay,” she cheered.

  Unbeknown to everyone else in the universe, traders and explorers had been numbering the infinitely varied plains that exist for thousands of years.

  “What is a year?” Cetra asked, her question backed up by a quizzical nod and a hum from Gabby.

  “365 days,” Billy answered.

  “Hmmm,” said Gabby and quickly did the math in her head, “That would make me about.... fifteen years old.”

  This caused everyone to stare at her for a stunned moment, for she had done the math in record time.

  “What?”she said, “I’m good with numbers.”

  Indeed!

  By now Barret was curious enough to ask how it all worked.

  “Now don’t you worry about that,” Brock answered sternly, “it’s not important yet.”

  “So what number is my Earth?” Billy finally asked in the midst of Barret’s disappointment.

  “That, young man,” Brock said and then turned to his son and shrugged his shoulders, “is another question we cannot answer.”

  “Why not?” Billy sulked.

  Yes, why not?

  “Because....” Brock began.

  There were holes in the system. They didn’t know the names of every plain, only the numbers assigned to then, and in a list of say, one to a hundred for example, several numbers might be missing.

  “So why don’t you just take me to all of them?” Billy suggested.

  “Are you kidding?” Brock said aghast, “We’re talking about thousands of year’s worth of discovery, who knows how many plains there really are out there? Maybe what we have at present is just the tip of the iceberg. And who’s to say that this Earth of yours isn’t somewhere inside a gap?”

  “Well, we’ll start with all the ones you know,” Billy said frustrated.

  “No,” Brock said sternly, “I don’t have time to go traipsing around the stuffing universe for your sake; I’ve got a business to run, and there’s only the two of us.”

  “I thought you said you had one or more merchants on every plain?”

  “Yeah, but just like Barret, they don’t know anything about this,” Brock said waving his arms around the room to emphasise where he was. “They don’t know what we’re really doing here. To them we’re just travellers shrewd enough to come across weird and whacky things for them to sell at market.”

  Barret nodded his head in agreement. He knew they were elusive. When he had needed more supplies they were there, but in the blink of an eye they’d have gone again.

  “Well, show me how and I’ll do it all myself then,” Billy suggested, his frustration still evident.

  Brock looked across at Barret and laughed, “He’s a determined little blighter isn’t he?”

  “You have no idea,” Barret answered shaking his head.

  “I’m serious,” said Billy seriously, “Somewhere, somehow, you and this Elevator of yours have the means to get me home, and I’m not simply going to walk away from that, like you seem to hope I will.”

  “No doubt young Billy, I agree,” Brock said calmly, “But I don’t possess the knowledge to get you home. You see, there’s only one way to travel between the plains, and that’s by the Elevators. Problem is you didn’t get to Fourteen via an Elevator. So where the brass did you come from?”

  “EARTH!” Billy snapped.

  “You see, never heard of it. My assumption is that you’ve fallen in through a gap somewhere, maybe even from one of the abandoned plains.”

  “Abandoned plains?” both Billy and Barret said in unison.

  “Earth is far more advanced than Bradley,” Barret added, “It has billions of people and.... electricity.... “

  “Maybe so,” Brock said, “but just maybe somewhere between now and an eon ago the Elevator was shut down for some reason. Maybe it broke and no one could get back there to fix it, and then all the energy contained within it went whacky.”

  “Sounds plausible,” Barret contributed, “So what sort of energy is this you’re talking about?”

  Immediately there was a lull in the conversation. Barry sighed and Brock turned to him and nodded.

  “H.M.E,” Barry began, “Harnessed Magnetic Energy.”

  There was a chorus of oohs.

  “Its origins come from some random obelisk that’s been floating around space for ever and a day. We just call it Pillar #1. Somewhere along the line it became affectionately known as Una,” Barry shrugged his shoulders. “Apparently it’s still floating around out there somewhere. Maybe it’s lost.”

  “The energy reproduces itself,” Brock continued, “Our ancestors found a way to harness it and contain it. From there they honed in on its properties and discovered that it was one big brass generator of power capable of opening up holes in the universe and boiling the kettle for a cup of tea.”

  “Your ancestors?” questioned Rod.

  “Y
ep,” Barry affirmed, “thousands of year’s worth. Family business you see.”

  “That’s right,” Brock said, “But now there’s only the three of us.”

  “Three?” Cetra asked.

  Barry nodded, “Me, Brock and Grandpa Bilson. He’s retired now, to the farm; that’s the Plain of Three Pillars. He looks after the archives.”

  “Archives huh...?” Rod pondered audibly.

  “Plains Traders’ archives from day dot,” Barry said, “Books, journals, maps, diagrams, receipts, old remote controls; it’s all there.”

  “And therefore so too are the answers we seek to get Billy home,” Rod cheered.

  Ah yes! Of course.

  “Lovely,” Billy said and leant forward in his excitement. He felt Gabby pat his back and he turned to her and smiled.

  Gabby said, “Let’s go then.”

  “Yeah,” Billy agreed, “let’s crack on. Grandpa Bilson here we come.”

  There was a buzz around the room, a promise of restoration, and hope in the air that Billy might still get home yet.

  But wait....

  “But wait,” Brock interrupted, “before we go, and I do agree with what you’re saying Rod, my father is no doubt far more equipped to offer Billy any help; but first we have a proposal for you all.”

  Their interest was marred by scepticism.

  “Understandably our trade business is thriving, but because there is only the two of us everything else suffers. Maintenance, exploration.... There are still at least twenty Elevators that need updating to the latest model, and I can’t remember the last time I discovered a new plain. What I’m proposing is that you come and work for us.... Just imagine it....”

  CHAPTER FORTY TWO