Chapter Thirteen

"Don't be stupid, kid," Big Macca reasoned – not for the first time. "I should do it. I know more about computers than anyone here."

Britney, seated in front of the computer in question, didn't bother to look up from its screen. "And that's something to be proud of, Paul?"

Neither had quite forgiven the other for the roles they had played in the events of two days ago, despite Meat's insistence that they could not pull the plan off unless they did.

"And Paul," Meat reminded him, "you come in later. After Brit's written the message."

"The message which you cannot see or interfere with the writing of…Have to keep our secrets safe, don't I?" Britney shot his last remark over to where Big Macca sat, several feet away.

"Oh, don't worry," the man replied, rolling his eyes, "I'm staying right over here."

Meat hastily interrupted. "Do you need the Text, Brit? I'm sure Charlotte-"

"That old thing? I know it by heart."

It was the girl's turn to roll her eyes. "Then get typing. I wanna see results!"

This is it, thought Britney, tapping out a message more familiar to him than anything else. At last, I'm doing the one thing I was put on this planet to do.

The girl lay on Britney's bed, her boots dangling over the end, toes tapping out a rhythm on the metal stead.

She gazed up at a grey patch on the ceiling where tiles should have been, and wondered how many tiles had once made up their underground world. Her home. She thought about how everything had to be so big now; great sheets of glass, huge blocks of plastic; no need for little stone tiles these days. She decided that, if she ever lived in a house, above ground, it would be made from stone, carved out of rock. Her bed would be metal, one that creaked at the joints, not one moulded from featureless carbon fibre. She'd have a real table, heavy and wooden, instead of plastic trays with peel-away lids. Her table would be laid with food that tasted real and looked recognisable.

He boots stopped their rhythm.

She could have all that. Soon.

"We gotta get along when they all arrive, you know."

Britney opened his eyes to find Big Macca standing over him. He pulled himself into a sitting position; he'd been slumped against the station wall, turning thoughts over in his mind like a computer chip.

"Yeah. Maybe we should just ignore each other until-"

"-So that's why I'm apologising."

"You are?"

Big Macca smiled slightly at the boy's surprise. He nodded.

"Yeah. Kid, you're okay. I should even be thanking you…what me and Charlotte tried and failed to start…you've finally done it."

For only the second time in his life, Britney felt himself lucky to have companions. He raised his hand to shake – instead, Big Macca grasped it and pulled him to his feet.

"Yeah," Britney replied. "It's only a matter of time, now."

Meat sensed a shadow fall across her upturned face, and tipped her head to see her friend, lingering thoughtfully at the mouth of the alcove.

"What's up, Brit?"

He entered shyly, almost as if it was somebody else's room he was invading, instead of his own.

"There's something I didn't tell you that night I read you the Text."

Her attention caught, she swung her legs round so she was perched on the edge of the mattress, and patted the dusty space next to her.

Britney sat.

"Tell. I don't care why you didn't before."

"Well, I don't know if you'll believe me. I'll feel stupid if-"

"you're not stupid. Go on!"

"There's a part in the Text about a…person. A special person."

"Is it you?"

"No. No, not me. The person'll be known as the Dreamer. I'm not sure but…I think he dreams about the Text. That's how he'll know he's the special one."

"But how will you know?" He could not answer. "Come on, Brit. It could be anybody! It could be a Ga Ga kid, and then what would we do?"

"This is why I didn't tell you. Because, even if he does exist, what are the chances of getting to him before Globalsoft?"

Meat shrugged. "So what's this Dreamer gonna do, anyway?"

At this, the boy's downtrodden expression lit with hope.

"The Dreamer is the only one who can defeat Globalsoft." And, as Meat struggled to keep pace, Britney explained.

"There's something called the mighty axe. This Dreamer's the only one who can find it – at the place of Living Rock, he'll know where that is – and use it to return Planet Mall to the Age of the Rhapsody. He'll save us all."

Meat shook her head in disbelief. "The only one?"

"Yeah."

"So, that means…if we don't find him, there's no hope?"

"Yeah. But-"

Meat looked her companion in the eye and spoke meaningfully. "So don't you think…that if we refuse to believe in this Dreamer, we can still have hope?"

To her surprise, Britney's gaze did not drop. His eyes levelled hers as he replied.

"No, Meat. I think that, as long as we believe that the Dreamer may come some day, we have hope."