I've posted this elsewhere on the Net, so some of you may have read it before. It's almost finished, so I will be updating with a new chapter every day or two. For those of you who have read Enivre en France, this is not the sequel; it's just a short concept story. Enjoy!

I was at work a while ago stacking shelves. I was quite tired, and I thought I heard someone calling my name. I turned around and there was no one there. I assumed I'd imagined it, but what if I hadn't?

The Machine. Chapter 1.

'What?'

'What what?'

'Did someone…? I thought I heard someone calling me.'

'I didn't hear anything, Clive,' said Pedro.

'Weird,' said Clive, shaking his head. He felt like he was waking from a dream. The last few minutes, now he tried to remember them, were hazy and indistinct. He could have sworn that someone had called him. But he must have been mistaken. Looking around, everyone else appeared to be absorbed in their own work. Only he and Pedro were standing idle. Clive shrugged and hefted his pickaxe. The sooner he finished his quota the sooner he'd be able to return to his bunk and collapse.

The mines made him sick. He spent as little time down here as he could. Fortunately the Commandant was lenient with him – a fact that did not go unnoticed among his colleagues. In his defence, however, Clive pulled more than his weight in other areas. Most of his time was spent with the carts. Ore hacked from the mine walls was loaded into lead carts and transported to the Surface. Clive enjoyed this task. Dragging the heavily laden wagons up the creaking tracks was surprisingly easy. He found his strength increased in bounds as he ascended the tunnels away from the ore deposits. Perhaps the air was bad down there. But that wouldn't explain why no one else got sick. Perhaps he had an allergy to the ore, or the dust.

Not that it mattered much. He generally only got called down there when a new seam was discovered and the workload increased briefly. Because of the speed and efficiency with which Clive towed the carts, the Commandant had found that keeping him there allowed the equivalent of five more workers to dig the mines.

The mealtime klaxon sounded, stirring Clive from his reverie. Just in time too, he thought. His breathing had become excessively laboured. Any longer down there and he'd have had to leave anyway. He felt ashamed of his weakness. Despite his prowess with the wagons, he felt he was letting the others down by not giving so much in the mines.

He filed out with the others, trying to mask his fatigue.

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'Hey guys!'

'Hey Cherie,' said Pedro. 'Gonna join us for tonight's gourmet meal?'

'Sure, wouldn't miss it,' said Cherie, rolling her eyes as she grinned. She pulled up a seat at Pedro and Clive's table. The gourmet meal on her tray consisted of a perfectly balanced mixture of proteins, carbohydrates and minerals, and resembled in appearance tapioca pudding and in taste absolutely nothing.

Clive was busy shovelling his own meal down his gullet as fast as he could.

'Hey,' said Cherie. 'Slow down there, Gonzales – savour the taste!'

'Yeah right,' said Pedro.

'Gotta keep my strength up, Cherie,' mumbled Clive between mouthfuls.

'Of course,' agreed Cherie, gazing at Clive's muscular forearms.

They ate in silence for a while.

'So… guys,' began Cherie slowly. 'Do you ever wonder why we're here?'

'To purge the mines,' said Clive, as if it were obvious.

'No, I mean… I don't know… Don't you feel like you're missing out on something?'

'Well young Clive here feels like he's missing out, dontcha man?'

Clive gazed at the canteen manageress, as she ladled fresh tapioca into the workers' bowls. Cherie rolled her eyes again.

'No, I don't mean here,' she insisted. 'I mean all we do is dig the mines, day in day out… How long have we even been here? It feels like forever. Don't you ever wonder about the outside world?'

'What outside world?' asked Clive. 'This is it. The Compound. The mines, the Surface, the dormitories, the canteen – what else could there be?'

'You've been to the Surface – what's up there? What's beyond the Surface?'

'Up there?' Clive frowned. 'There's just the Surface. The ore goes up and gets tipped off the Edge.' There's nothing beyond the Edge.'

Cherie pursed her lips, as if dissatisfied with Clive's answer. But she lacked the ability to put her dissatisfaction into words. She felt there should be something more to her world but, like the others, she had no concept of anything other than her immediate existence.

Before she could pursue her frustrating line of thought, another klaxon sounded. A large monitor built into the far wall of the canteen hummed into life. As the picture warmed up it revealed the head and shoulders of the Commandant. Beads of sweat glistened on his bald pate.

'Fellow workers,' he announced. 'May I have your attention. There has been another cave-in at junction eleven. Would all off-duty personnel please report immediately to the area. We have a number of workers trapped behind the fall who require your assistance. Thank you.'

'Well, here we go again,' sighed Pedro. 'And just when I was about to order seconds.'

They picked up their tools and hurried to the nearest exit.

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Clive felt the fatigue press down on him harder than usual. He should not have returned to the mine so soon, but he felt obliged to help his fellow workers. As he hacked away at the fallen rock he began to feel dizzy. The world around him seemed to sway and liquefy.

And then he heard it again. Someone was calling him.