Ernest
"Earnest, come quick," Albert shouted to me in great excitement.
"David has just brought me a message picked up on the Ethernet by that scanner we had installed. I told you it was worth the money. It's a message sent out from the enemy headquarters. Listen to this:
To Commanders
Allied Armies: Stand Down, repeat, Stand Down. All advance units are to be recalled to base – standby for further orders.
The second is from Movements Control.
To all Border Posts: with immediate effect, roadblocks are to be set up on all roads leading to the Border, and no traffic is to be allowed to pass through. No exceptions unless carrying official authorisation from Movement Control. –Stand by for further information.
We are intercepting a flurry of other messages requesting advice from civilian contractors working on expanding a series of exit points to allow a mass exodus of troops when the invasion begins. They said they are trapped behind a huge invisible force field that now runs the entire length of the world border, and it is completely impassable. They are unable to get back in and request help, having only limited supplies of food and water.
"Don't you see, Earnest? Peregrine has locked The Green Door and closed the border; there is no other explanation possible. Albert ripped up the messages and threw them into the air so that they fluttered back to the ground like confetti.
I hugged him, and we danced around the room like excited schoolboys. On hearing the racket, Aunty hurried into the room to see what was going on. We told her, and her whooping and cheering brought the rest of the staff in, who, on hearing the news, joined in the celebrations. All of them, except for Mr Cheap, who stood on the sidelines chewing his nails and looking very worried.
This did not go unnoticed by Albert, who confronted the thin figure of Cheap, now cowering by the wall.
"News not to your liking, Cheap?"
"Of course, of course," said the clerk, wringing his hands. "Couldn't be happier, just a little worried about the young gentleman. Mother always used to say, bless her departed soul, that I could worry for the world, always thinking of others, Cluan, never of yourself."
He looked slyly at Albert. "He has returned safely, I trust. In my own humble way, I wish to offer him my heartiest congratulations and best wishes for the future, if that were possible, sir."
Albert frowned, a little taken aback by Mr Cheap's show of concern, even though he strongly suspected his sincerity.
"Not heard from him yet," said Albert reluctantly, "but it's early days yet."
"Oh, Uncle Albert," said Montan, who had been listening to their conversation, "have you no clue as to where he might be or if he is in good health, or even alive?"
"Don't worry, Montana; he is a very brave and resourceful young man. I expect he has been delayed, that's all."
And he walked away with his arm around Montana's shoulder, and people drifted out of the room, all celebrations brought to an abrupt end. Mr Cheap allowed himself the comfort of a grim smile and hurried away after them.
"Where can he be, Earnest?" asked Albert. I have been to the room, and the Green Door has vanished; that, as you know, was our only hope. We thought that once Peregrine had locked The Green Door from the inside, it would somehow allow him back through."
"Not much of a hope, was it?" I said grimly. "Did either of us honestly believe that it was going to happen?"
Albert hung his head. "I suppose not, but we had no choice; the border had to be closed, whatever the cost; the future of the free worlds was at stake. We didn't discuss with Peregrine how he would get back, and he was so excited about the quest that it never occurred to him to ask."
"It's a sorry business, but the boy was a hero," I said, "and he will be long remembered as such."
"That's not much use to him, and which of us is going to tell Montana?"
"I will do it," I said. "She is my legal ward and responsibility, but I don't know what she is going to think of us when she realises that we sent Peregrine on a virtual suicide mission without properly telling him of the risks of getting back."
"Is there any hope for him at all?" said Albert, "I am very fond of the boy; I always was."
"Well, Albert, his last known location was the wood, and if he got out of there alive, he would have to come to what are known as 'The Badlands," a large area of mostly desert and scrubland that was laid waste by war and became separated from the main landmass of what we used to call The World of Fiction, a pointless name in a multi- reality universe where fact and fiction are both interchangeable and equally meaningless terms.
The Badlands have long been considered an aberration by the Ruling Universal Council and have ordered that it be destroyed by flood. From information picked up on your beloved Ethernet, the flood recently imposed, very embarrassingly for the council, failed to completely destroy The Badlands. The Chairperson was apparently not happy, and just a very short time ago, an official bulletin was intercepted confirming that angry members had sent a flood ten times the magnitude of the original and The Badlands are now confirmed to have broken up and swept off into deep space.
I am afraid to say that unless Peregrine managed to find a way out after he had located and locked The Green Door, something highly unlikely to have happened, we must assume that Peregrine has sacrificed his life to secure our freedom."
"Is that what you are going to tell Montana?"
"Yes, it would be cruel to give her false hope," I replied.
"It is a bitter irony that had Peregrine been able to return after completing the quest, we could have put his case before the Ruling Universal Council, that having completed all the entry requirements, he was entitled to official recognition as a 'bona fide traveller'."
"I do not envy you your task, Earnest, but it is the right thing to do," said Albert.
"This was going to be a difficult interview, but it was my responsibility alone to tell her. Unable to speak, I got up from my chair and, without another word, left the room to find Montana.