Poldi flew through space, invincible inside a time-travelling pyramid. At the centre of the pyramid was calm. There seemed nothing that the inhabitants had to do to maintain their course. They hurtled through space with the greatest of ease. Inside they were free to mingle and converse in a way that had never been possible in the demanding atmosphere of earth or on the space mission. Poldi learned more names of the twenty-five who had been chosen to become ambassadors but he found himself standing close to Marcellus who was tall, loud and recognisable. Many other people had the same focus and around Marcellus a happy crowd lounged and talked. A strongly built American girl asked the girl with the voice that spoke inside your head, “How was all this decided upon so quickly? Have you been planning this for some time?” The clear, quiet voice replied and everyone in the Pyramid could feel it within their minds, “It was pure luck. We stumbled across our chance and we took it. We only used a very short time-thread to re-explore Earth. For safety’s sake we didn’t want to get tangled up there if we could possibly avoid it. We could have woven another loop and stayed longer but honestly we were too frightened.” One of the two sprightly ancient ones asked the girl to explain about time threads and as they talked Poldi noticed that the strange humans often asked questions about things they already knew.
A quiet French boy piped up,
“We can all learn more about time travel when we are more at home in the environment that it creates. Could you tell me,” he addressed the elder who was interchanging information with the telecommunicating girl, “What is the place where we are going like?”
The elder was flummoxed for a moment and then gathered his thoughts,
“Well… first we are going to Confluence the great planet that is the beginning and end of all time journeys. All Paths Lead To Confluence.”
Poldi laughed, thinking that he recognised the Earth history of the phrase. “All roads lead to Rome.”
Into the laughter of Poldi and the few Europeans in the group a voice broke,
“Why are you holy rollers stealing children from earth?”
The voice was loud and everyone was quiet. Everybody looked towards the voice.
They saw a boy who looked very much like Poldi but smaller, darker and more self assured. The name tag that he still wore from the space station gave his name as “Brandt Hell.”
After a long pause the silent child with the gold disc on his forehead stood up from where he was; listening to the two children who were African royalty tell him about earth’s troubles; and crossed the floor of the pyramid to embrace Brandt.
There was relieved laughter but the children of Earth still waited eagerly for their answer.
An enormous man with shocks of crazy black hair cleared his throat and addressed the twenty-five Allowed.
“Our world is not so ordered as your insult would suggest that you think. We have troubles similar to those of earth. Although we have no ecological crisis we are wracked by the wars of our swarming offspring. Peace and time awareness are rare in the vast volumes of our space… we hope that in this chaos you can represent a rallying point for peace…” From his authoritative beginning he trailed off, his tone obviously appealing for help in their helplessness.

They and the pyramid ship were drawn inexorably towards Confluence.

At the very centre of the maelstrom stood Confluence itself, after which the planet and the whole area of space had been named. Confluence took the form of a mighty giant with a head shaped like a pyramid which hovered above its great shoulders. Confluence itself was eternally silent but around it were clustered noisy settlements from every corner of known space.
The arrival of the Earth children caused a great powwow. Most welcomed them but a few groups feared them and talked about the evil legends of Earth.
Before anything was decided about the fate of the Allowed various groups started to claim children interested in their cause. The twenty-five found themselves torn asunder by the time threads around confluence. Each group only had a short time at the discussion before the thread that they were on took them away again. Some of the Allowed were gone before Poldi really knew their names. He struggled to remember their faces, their smiles.
Soon Poldi realised that he was also on a thread. He was determined to see as much of this space as he could before his invincibility left him and he must return home. He was lead to the diplomatic life.

Years later Poldi knew much more.
He knew that time-threads were not always circular. Some renegades cut the thread behind them and sailed off into the deep black, the only way back along a single golden path. Sometimes Poldi thought that his time-thread had been severed so far was he flung from home.

On a dark planet, lit only by the explosions of war, Poldi’s path forward was crossed by Brandt.
Brandt had joined the army: he was meant to be securing peace.
Poldi was surprised to run into him, Poldi’s intelligence sources were usually keen to give him information about the other Allowed. Poldi was acting as a message relay for humanitarian services on the front line, Brandt it appeared was in command of an elite tank column. When they met in a flimsy palm-frond command shack Brandt’s eyes lit up the room more than the explosions he was causing.
“Let me cut to the chase,” he said in a voice that the years had changed into a voice of command, “I am in a jam. My time thread pulls me back to Confluence within the hour. I can either hand my command to you of lose the day. What do you say?”
There was nothing that Poldi could do but accept.
In command of troops Poldi found that he was able to demand things that he could not before. He could defend hospitals and evacuees where before he had to run from the artillery. His messages got through and his suggestions became orders. With Poldi’s local knowledge and communications network his army prevailed and peace settled over the shell-holes.

In that evening’s command tent post was a letter from Brandt.

“My good friend,
I know that you will be victorious.
I only wonder at the wisdom of our parents, letting us go out into such a world.
Your debtor,
Commander Hell.”

Poldi sat quietly for the first time that day after reading that short message.
He gave thanks for his invincibility.

Much later, much further along the path Poldi was a different person. He still did not know whether his thread had been broken but he was determined to return to Confluence.
Not yet fifteen by the distant Earth calendar he was older in experience than any Earthborn, except perhaps the first generation of time travellers and the other twenty-four Allowed. Poldi was powerful. Lives hung in his arms, needing his protection. His wrath was the most feared thing in the space where he travelled. People came daily to plead for his favour or his mercy. He could hold back or push forward other people’s time threads. He wove threads. One day he might have enough threads for a carpet but at the moment he had a rope. A strong rope through space and time.
And now that rope had reached an obstacle between Poldi and Confluence. A fortress with no way around.
That fortress was three stars and their planets, a bottleneck through which all must pass. War raged there: sometimes it seemed like forever.
Poldi had woven his rope with the advice of the ancients and he was sure that it could pass through any gap, if there was one. He did not want to send his armies blindly into a war that could not be won. He wanted to think past the three stars to the path beyond but he could not see past the problems of right here, right now. He resolved to contact a heavy hitter in the war to see if safe passage could be arranged for him and his people. He sent out his spies and waited impatiently for their reports.
As the reports came in Poldi heard more and more that worried him. Some of the reports were too awful to believe but all agreed on one point. Brandt was in power here. Poldi’s time analysts reckoned that Brandt must have cut his own time-thread immediately after he last left Confluence to get far enough back into history to gain control over this troubled trinity of stars.
As Poldi travelled towards Brandt his fears multiplied.
When he finally met him his worst fears were confirmed.

Brandt was a bloody war prince. People crawled for their lives before him.
Poldi met him in a permanent concrete version of the palm-shack in which they had last met.
Brandt was dressed in thick, black armour, showing Poldi that his most terrible intelligence was shockingly true.
Brandt was no longer invulnerable.
His armour showed how much danger he was now in on this war planet. Poldi saw a weakness that he could exploit. He could offer Brandt a way off this forsaken war-torn plain.
“Brandt…” Began Poldi but he never completed what he was going to say.
“I have no time to listen to you. You are now in my power and you will follow my commands.”
“I think that you are mistaken,” said Poldi, “How can you think to order me around when you have clearly lost the golden glow that still protects me?”
“Because of her!” Shot back Brandt with a quickness that showed that he had waited for this moment to come. He had known that he and Poldi would meet here but Poldi had not. Also Poldi could have foreseen the hostage that Brandt’s men brought in. Poldi cursed himself for his oversight, he had been around space and knew the games which vulnerable people play in times of war.
The hostage was one of the Allowed. The Japanese girl whose name he did not know. She was clearly terrified and this told Poldi that she too had lost her invincibility.
On the heels of that revelation came two more. The tall American girl that Poldi knew was called Heather walked in with a small Indian boy who had been swallowed up in the first mingling of the Allowed. With a gesture from Brandt they flanked Poldi. Subtle signs in their body language told him that these two were still golden children.
Brandt spoke then and Poldi could tell that he was justifying his actions to himself.
“You see that our so called invulnerability is limited. Nothing that the people of Earth have done for us can protect us from the things that we may find out here in space. Our parents sent us out here without proper thought, they abandoned us to a world of darkness.”
Poldi interrupted him, “I imagine that you begged your parents as hard as I begged mine for the opportunity to come here. It was your choice.”
“I was told that I was invincible, invincible! It was a lie!”
“Then you should return home.” Poldi spoke quietly. He realised that he was the powerful one in the room. He turned to Heather,
“Why are you here?”
Heather said nothing but looked at Brandt.
Brandt waved his hand as if he was suddenly very tired.
“Tell him, tell him.”
Heather’s voice was strained,
“Somehow Lord Hell can remove our power. If I didn’t help him then he would destroy me and all the other Allowed. It is better that I do what he says. You should too.”
“I don’t think that I will.” Said Poldi and made a run for the hostage but Brandt was ready for him and with huge strides of his powered exoskeleton he overtook him and grabbed the small girl in one hand.
“Keep him here.” Barked Brandt to his bodyguards and stalked off down a corridor.
Heather and the Indian boy leapt on Poldi and wrestled him to the ground. Brandt disappeared underground with his captive.

Although there were two of them Poldi was an experienced fighter. He worked a hand free and pulled the pins of a bandolier of smoke bombs which he wore. Thick choking smoke poured out around the three struggling teenagers. In the darkness of the smoke the three fought like the three stars of Brandt’s bottleneck fortress, sometimes it seemed like forever.
Eventually Poldi emerged from the smoke, breathing hard, his eyes streaming. He ran for the corridor down which Brandt had vanished. Brandt’s troops kept up a constant machine gun fire and to Poldi it felt like running into a hurricane full of hail.
Poldi kept his head down and kept running, smoke streaming behind him, filling the bunker and the dark corridor down which he sprinted. Soon he was alone in the murk and the silence of deep tunnels. The blackness touched his face like a velvet glove and he lit a flare as he ran.

Brandt’s lair was a maze. The tunnels led deep underground, down into a mine where long ago primitive people had mined for black rock. The walls were rough and sharp outcrops of the precious black quartz caught at Poldi’s uniform as he ran.
Poldi stretched his eyes wide, trying to catch some glimpse of his fleeing foe. The light of his magnesium flare only danced in his eyes, it did not light up the way ahead. Deciding to take a chance Poldi snuffed out the flame and ran in the darkness, trusting his feet to keep him upright. In the fresh darkness green spots boiled in front of him. Running in the pitch black was terrifying, every animal part of Poldi screamed at him to stop, to turn back, but Poldi would not turn. Brandt was too dangerous to be allowed to get away.
Poldi ran for a long time. He could not tell if he was following in Brandt’s footsteps. The deeper he delved into the mine the colder it became. When the green spots cleared it seemed even darker than before and Poldi wanted to light his flare again. Sweat ran down from his hair and chilled his skin. The wind whipped by him swiftly, smelling of strange underground gases. Glowing lichen allowed him to pick out the walls of the tunnel which twisted and turned with the seam of ore, going ever deeper.
At length Poldi had to rest. He pulled out his radio and tried to hail his lieutenants but he was far too far underground for that. He drank a little from his canteen and ate half of an energy bar and then set off again. He was faster this time, his eyes were used to the darkness and his determination had had time to rise within him.
He would not let Brandt escape.

Poldi passed the hulking shapes of disused mining equipment. The part of the mine he was running through had been active recently. The walls of the mine were thicker here with black carbuncles. The floor was rough and unfinished. Poldi was about to light his flare again when he saw a faint light in the distance. As he watched it disappeared, it was moving!
Poldi leapt forward with new energy. His prey was within his grasp.
He sprang from boulder to boulder, his eyes on the prize.
Determined as he was it took him mere moments to close with his quarry. As he rounded a corner he saw Brandt in his suit of armour with the tiny shape of the Japanese girl slung over his left shoulder.
For the first time in his years of command Poldi wished for a gun; but he would not have dared use it for fear of hitting the girl.
In the twisting tunnel Poldi was much closer to Brandt the next time he caught sight of him and he could hear the massive boots of the armoured suit crushing the black rocks of the floor.
Under cover of the noise Poldi ran close enough to touch the hostages hand and she looked up, startled. When she saw that it was him she raised her hand and gestured at him. She waved him away, imploring him to turn around and run back. Poldi was confused but he would not let Brandt go. Instead he grabbed the girl by both hands and pulled her off Brandt’s shoulder and onto the floor. In his haste he had forgotten that she was no longer invincible and when she hit the floor she cried out and went limp. Brandt heard the cry and wheeled upon Poldi.
“Ahah!” Was all he said before he grabbed Poldi by the neck and one leg and hauled him high above his head. Poldi was crushed against the roof of the tunnel and Brandt kept walking, dragging Poldi across the sharp crystals.
“I knew you would come; I wanted you to come,” gloated Brandt, “You will soon see the stunning power of these prehistoric rocks.”
Poldi fought to free himself, the obsidian roof dragging across his back like sandpaper. Brandt’s mechanical arms were too strong to fight and Poldi was helplessly borne along by his enemy. The roof tore at his skin and for the first time since The Sun had blessed him on Thetis he felt real pain. He cried out in surprise.
“Now you understand!” Cried Brandt, “Now you see!”
Some power in the black rock cancelled out the process that had made them invulnerable. This is what had happened to Brandt and to the poor girl that now lay unconscious in the tunnel far behind. As Poldi’s mind raced over the implications he had a pang of fear which became a freezing waterfall of terror.

He might never go home.

Brandt stepped out into a cavern made entirely of the black rock. He flung Poldi like a doll into the centre of the cave. He stood for a moment, savouring his victory, and then began beating the walls with his enormous metal fists. He blows rang like the beating of a gong and pieces of crystal fell from the ceiling. At first only small stones fell but soon chunks the size and weight of bowling balls were smashing down. Some fell on Poldi as he struggled weakly to stand. They knocked him down.
Brandt danced for joy, thumping his fists into the walls, jumping up to punch the ceiling. Poldi was buried and still Brandt brought down more upon him. Boulders of pure blackness rained down cutting off all hope of escape.

Suddenly with a scream of cracking crystal a part of the roof the size of a tram fell directly onto Brandt. Without time for him to make a noise he was buried deeper than even Poldi was.
The cavern was quiet.

Poldi felt the strength drained from him, he felt the weight of the stone above him. He thought of all the obstacles between himself and his home. The rock, the war, the darkness of space, the craziness of time travel. He did not know what had happened to Brandt so he thought of him too. Breathing became difficult and his thinking got slower and slower. He started to drift away when he heard a noise.
He wanted the noise to go away. It would be so much easier to fall asleep if the noise would go away. He tried to work out what the noise was and strained his ears one last time.
At first it sounded like more rock falls, randomly hitting the pile of stone that he lay under. Then he was sure that it was rats. His dazed brain suggested that it was running water but he knew that it couldn’t be. He gave up and drifted off again.

Kyoko wiped the tears away from her cheeks and went back to pulling rocks out of the pile. Rocks that were too heavy for her to lift she pushed away with her legs. As long as she didn’t stop there was still hope. There was still hope that she would dig him out. If she dug him out then there was still hope. There was hope for her, hope for an end to the war, even a hope that they might get home.

If she dug him out she might finally learn his name.

There was a hope.