Merry Go round Broke Down: The Hexology in Seven parts, #4

By Chris Troman

The carnival, the fun fair, call it what you will. Where life's rich tapestry is drawn to this spot for one night only; and tears of laughter vie with the terrors in the night. Bright colours flicker as images skew beyond belief, and the future can be bought for a hand full of silver. As childhood fears creep just around the corner. Dare you enter, dare you see, dare you find what truth may be?
Journey once more in to the mind of Chris Troman, with a whole universe in his mind to choose from plus a few parallel dimensions annexed on you'd better just hope he doesn't suffer from cosmic expansion.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chris Troman
• Release date: Apr 3, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224500710

Chris Troman

I took up writing as a hobby and it has given me a great deal of pleasure. If you find reading my stories a pleasure too, then why not drop me a line at [e-mail] I'm sorry I don't do Facebook, Twitter or any of the other new style ways to chat, l grew up when an email came in an envelope, and we learnt about computer programming rather than information technology. Which I think tells more about me than an autobiography. Many thanks, Chris Troman

Book preview

Merry Go Round Broke Down (and other stories)

By Chris Troman

Copyright 2024 Chris Troman

Smashwords Edition

Other books by Chris Troman

Star Wars Vader's Sister

Aardvarks to Planet X

S.W.A.T.

It Might as Well be String Theory

Can't wait for the next thrilling installment. Then why not visit my profile page at Smashwords

This ebook is licenced for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Any characters or events portrayed in this book are purely fictitious and any resemblance to real people, businesses, companies or institutions either current or defunct in this universe or any parallel ones is purely coincidental.

Dedicated to Sue and Alice

I have to thank my many scientific advisors, if you don't know who you are then I picked your brains successfully, but if you have an inclination that an idle chat with me has somehow made it in some form into my works, then you will have to forgive my less than adroit burglary skills, none the less I salute you.

Welcome to my fourth edition of this Hexology (a set of six books, no dark arts ok). In this busy world a short story is just the job to dip in to on those spare moments of your valuable time. Come on a journey through space, time and reality in bite size morsels.

Do not adjust your book. We are in control. Just relax and enjoy this latest collection of incredible science fiction tales from the mind of Chris Troman as waves of hypnotism wash over you.

Chris Troman is your best friend The voice of reason.

Chris Troman is a giant among the literary glitterati A commanding tone.

Chris Troman towers over mere mortals of the science fiction genre A heavenly choir.

The carnival, the fun fair, call it what you will. Where life's rich tapestry is drawn to this spot for one night only; and tears of laughter vie with the terrors in the night. Bright colours flicker as images skew beyond belief, and the future can be bought for a hand full of silver. As childhood fears creep just around the corner. Dare you enter, dare you see, dare you find what truth may be?

Contence

Merry go Round Broke Down

M.I.G.

Making Plans for Nigel

Mirror Mirror

Mind Reader

Mist

Life Imitates Art

Murder on the Star Express

Climbing the Mountains of my Mind

Magnificent Octopus

Maintenance Department – Subsection 5 Black Holes

Murder by Proxy

Men in the Moon at Last

End notes

Merry go round broke down

Guy Janneth held up his long slim hand to shield his eyes; then he staggered into the light. His lithe form shook with the effort of standing once more, but he could no longer stand that insane tune. It still swam round his head as he stumbled out of the small town's cinema. And to think he had only sort that supposedly dark haven to hide in, to escape the perplexing local customs. That decision had now left him more confused than before he reflected. Perhaps he shouldn't have plumped for the children's matinee, showing a plethora of Loony Tune Cartoons; but the ticket seller's accent hadn't helped Janneth in his decision, and now he was stuck with that dam tune in his head.

As he grew accustomed to the light once more Janneth lowered his hand, and he halted as he saw the couple ambling along just across the street. Like an ancient mariner the pair were like a sail on the horizon to him, and Janneth liked his lips in hope. The first thing he had noticed about them was the way the woman had moved. It was an ungainly lope, suggesting to Janneth that perhaps she was unused to her surroundings. The short woman stood out like a beacon against the drab passers by, who mostly populated the main street of this one horse town. As a whole, the other people seemed to be doing their best to ignore the pair.

Janneth had noticed this behaviour before; as if these people were unwilling to see what was under their very noses. He had wondered if it was some form of polite indifference; that any aberration from the norm could live their existence free from ridicule. But the occasional glances the pair did draw, bore testament to a loathing that Janneth could only attribute to a hatred that these obvious strangers attracted. Perhaps some found fault in all unfamiliar things, or held a genuine fear that somehow the outlandish garb and ways of these two could somehow infect their humdrum existence.

For his own part, Janneth had encountered either indifference or at the very least a polite professionalism in the locals he had encountered, but he was cut from a different cloth than the two now before him. The latter behaviour he had elicited from a pawnbroker, as he obtained local currency in exchange for the trinkets Janneth had luckily brought with him. An astute decision reflected Jannth, or he would have been stranded with no means of supporting himself, until he could get himself out of the fix he was in. As he had left the shop he looked up and saw the universal sign of three balls hanging over the shop front. Funny how some things transcend all languages he had thought. Then he had carefully deposited the legal tender in his pocket, only too aware of how little he had obtained to keep him from starving.

The couple across the street were like an island of sanity in the flow of human banality and Janneth devoured every inch of this vision before him, like a breath to a drowning man. From the flow of her long purple skirt that almost hid those hefty black boots, a powerhouse to support her form as she moved down the street, to the tantalizing yellow top encapsulated within a dark transparent jacket, swaying in unison with the various chains of precious metal that hung around her thick neck. Even her hair had a life of it's own, untamed by convention.

And her face, how could Janneth ever forget that; he would recognise it again anywhere. It was almost like a death mask, but not quite; as if under all those layers of makeup some form was waiting to be revealed, if only some sculptor could find it; a beauty in the rock yet unhewn. But still her eyes could not be hidden; they darted this way and that, as if searching for something not quite there, but it seemed worth looking for none the less. Finally his attention focused on her lips; they moved almost ceaselessly as if imparting vital knowledge to her companion, in a stream that must not be broken.

By comparison, the figure moving in unison with her down the street was her almost exact opposite. From his mute lips showing Janneth no indication of his demeanour unless it too was a keen interest in the unseen. For he kept his eyes fixed ceaselessly on the pair's destination, nodding occasionally at the woman's words. His face was an almost immutable fixture to his physiognomy, if not for the occasional acknowledgement of the words of his diminutive companion, but unlike her Janneth could tell the giant of a man revealed his true form in his features, as his head sat fixed atop a gigantic frame clad exclusively in drab garments, which culminated in another pair of heavy duty boots, but these seemed almost to bolster up his form as he trudged along in them.

Crossing over to their side, Janneth moved through the people who had already done their best to avoid the pair, as they passed down the street. But Janneth knew he must follow, motivated by other desires than the loose crowd's. For these two just might be his salvation, if he could grasp the willow the wisp of hope they meant to him. But even so Janneth felt he must not act too bold; a rash move now could lead to his doom, or even his demise. Janneth was new to this game, and he knew he must learn the rules fast, least he infringe them and suffer the loss of all hope.

As the pair wound their way through the untidy crowd that flowed like eddies round a rock, Janneth chose his own path with care; ever mindful that he must neither lose his quarry, nor allow them to sense his presence, and be spooked in to rash action. Thus he kept his distance in respect to his guides, yet never too far to lose them; that was until he saw the flyer. Flicking his eyes off the two for an instant, he saw the newly discovered paper trail he might just be able to follow instead; for the style of it held a memory of more familiar times, and he stopped to read it, sure that it too held the hope he was seeking.

It was a colourful poster proclaiming the one night only extravaganza of the Zubrini Brothers Magnificent Carnival, a funfair to rival any amusements imaginable. Thrill to the spine tingling haunted train ride. Experience the dizzy heights of the forty-foot Ferris wheel; have your future revealed by madam Olaf fortune-teller extraordinaire. Wonder at you true image in the unfathomable hall of mirrors, and various other distracting attractions to tantalise the senses. And as a piece de resistance, a staggering forty-two horse festooned carousel, which was proudly depicted at the base of the advert, where Janneth's eyes drank in the full import of the image.

Janneth's eyes had lingered too long on this new attraction; and when he tore them away his couple had disappeared from view, but it didn't matter anymore. With satisfied smile Janneth studied the temporary address of this ray of hope. It was the municipal field out on Vandenburg Street, at the south end of town. With a little local knowledge that Janneth got at the newsstand for the price of the town journal, he had his destination. He was on the trail once more.

The afternoon sun dipped below the tree line, as Janneth approached the now self-proclaiming park of delights; as the carnival began its evening's festivities of coloured lights and music, to draw in the punters so they could spend their hard earned dollars on the dream. Good thought Janneth, as he knew he could hide in the hubbub of general revelry the crowd would be engaged in, while he hunted out his lost prey; the couple would be here like bees in a hive.

He bought a stick of brightly coloured pink cotton candy; partly for the cover it would afford him at first, and partly due to the fact that he had omitted to eat anything in his eagerness to rediscover his possible saviours; his stomach bore testament to that omission. The various attractions seemed to surround Janneth's destination; it was the one place he knew where he had to go in this maze of distractions and bright coloured lights. As he proceeded each show occupied his senses with its distinct tune and the occasional hawker proclaiming the attraction's merits; and all for just a few coins, to almost divert the general public from where Janneth knew he must go.

Almost at the edge of his perception Janneth finally heard a distinct harmony cut through the mishmash of melodies; it struck a chord in his recent memory, as its familiar notes played out on a Wurlitzer. His mind wandered back to just before his ray of hope first appeared. Then as if fate placed a bony elbow in his side Janneth was unceremoniously drawn back to the now, as a couple of men in grey suits jostled past him unnoticed until the point of impact; he had been taking a much distracted bite from his improvised disguise, and he almost chocked on the sweet fluffy treat. But now Janneth was too busy ducking behind a stall now to pay his jostlers much attention. For at that very moment he saw her; it was the woman from town. Had she seen him? He thought not. She was still talking ceaselessly to her over sized companion, as her eyes darted this way and that.

As he spied on her from his place of concealment, Janneth wondered if she ever stopped. Then as he got his breath back from the choking incident, Janneth took in more of the scene before him, his jostlers forgotten in an instant. The lights passing before his eyes drew his attention now; the brightly coloured horses moving up and down in their ceaseless procession, and behind it all the mirrors reflecting a myriad of images, as the carousel spun round and round. Balls thought Janneth, just like a pawnbroker's balls, and he smiled at the simplicity of it all. Then he supressed his tear soaked smile, as he took in the object of his desires.

He thought that he was doomed to be marooned here for the remainder of his days, but here was living proof that hope could be had. Now if only he could gain the trust of the guardians of this signpost. A beacon proclaiming a trade known everywhere that was anywhere, and in a universal language all civilised people would know. Janneth pulled back behind the stall he was hiding by, and suddenly wondered if he had tripped some security fence remembering his jostlers. Could there others on the outlook for strangers who just might suspect the true nature of what was going on here? One would have to be very carful he now supposed, in case unwanted attentions were paid to the residents of this land of delight, who's very nature was clearly hid in plain sight.

That was the beauty of it though thought Janneth; after all who would think to look for what you didn't even know existed, just hoped for, hoped as Janneth did. Then with a sudden rush of boldness Janneth thought what was the worst that could happen? Now he was actually here, would they really turn him away, or worst? He kicked the idea around in his head, and almost chocked again at the ridiculousness of his unbiased fears. If they went to all the trouble of proclaiming their trade, why would they harm the very customers who came to them? And realising he had finished his candyfloss, Janneth discarded the stick and approached the couple.

Still Janneth kept an eye out, but not this time for the people he sort; this time it was to make sure passers by failed to notice the purpose in his walk. He didn't want a random stranger spoiling his chance at this; and before he knew it he was there, his feet had taken him over the short distance with such ease, but it felt as if it were a chasm he had leapt from despair to hope. The short woman looked up at this obvious invasion of her personal space, and she fell silent for a brief moment; that was all the time it took.

Janneth felt his thoughts being prodded and poked, as if her stubby fingers had reached out and sunk themselves in to his skull. Yet still he stood ridged in this scrutiny, a counter attack now on his personal inner space; he was held by this woman's mind, as her eyes merely seemed to take in his outward appearance, and then it was over. She began babbling away to her companion once more, as if Janneth were no longer there while he stood wondering if he had passed some test. Then the music that had drawn Janneth here faded away, and the ride they were stood by ground to a halt. With a simple jerk of her head, the woman motioned his attention to a mirrored door at the centre of the ride.

It was still opening as Janneth stepped up on to the platform. He made his way through the painted horses as the now finished riders disembarked. Then with a backwards glance he slipped into the door just before it clicked shut behind him. The chamber's darkness sent a shiver down his spine, and Janneth suddenly had a chilling thought. What if he had been led in to a trap? Was this how it would end? He turned and felt the all too solid door behind him. Then the faint tones beyond proclaimed the commencement of another cycle for the horses, now presumably filled with punters once more.

He turned away from the door with a sigh, as his eyes became more accustomed to the gloom in here after the bright lights that were without. That was when he noticed the spiral staircase disappearing in to the semi-darkness above. There was no other way to go, and despite the fact that under normal circumstances the steps would take him on to the very roof of the ride, no appearance of this seemed evident. The steps led to a level that by rights should not logically exist. To Janneth this was more than he could hope for, so he went up.

As his foot touched the top step, the faint glow rose in to a crescendo of white, as the enormous room lit up. Finally Janneth sighed with relief; it was certainly big enough for his needs, and if he was an unwanted presence he was sure he would not have been allowed up here. It must be the shop floor of the operation; it had to be the size of an aircraft hanger. Then Janneth heard a cough behind him, and he noticed the short man clad in overalls.

Janneth wondered if he was the brother of the woman outside. The short man was certainly made in the same mould; but where she had worn a mask of makeup, his blue skin told of the true nature of their common ancestry. So where did your ship crash? the mechanic spoke in an almost clumsy manner, as if he were unused to speaking this tongue. Zarinda read your mind, and told me all about it he added as way of explanation. With relief that he was with people who could help him, Janneth began to tell the Voodendi mechanic about his personal star cruiser.

It was a Moltani class ship; which as it turned out the little engineer was an expert on. But Janneth expected no less; the Voodendi's world was so gravitationally challenged they had to over engineer all their craft, just to make orbit against the huge gravity well. Kolopolok, as the mechanic was called had no problem retrieving the crashed vessel with a local transportation teleporter beam, which any good repair shop was equipped with, the mechanic informed Janneth.

As the hum of the beam died down Kolopolok got busy inspecting the crashed space ship. Its smooth lines bore a striking resemblance the carousel below, while Janneth explained how his temperamental stabilisers had just shut down. That'll be an old Kesdonic satellite net around this planet; we get a lot of trouble with that, especially with Moltani drives the mechanic called from the cabin, but I can fix that. As Kolopolok re-emerged through the door he asked casually what's the power rating on this thing? Janneth had to supress the grin of relief, as he joked a bit more than forty two horse power thinking of the funfair's poster.

M.I.G.

Sidewell looked intently out through the pane of glass as he exclaimed, I can't believe he can just do that, it's impossible. He pressed up against the control tower's window, and strained to see the faint line of the Russian jet, as it came in to land on the darkened airfield. But there it was, hovering in mid air with no visible means of holding it up. Sidewell had dismissed his control room staff on the orders of the two strangers who stood next to him, the only other witnesses to this landing.

That was except for the car just now approaching the deserted airfield. It's lights flicked off moments before its beam would illuminate the now descending Mig fighter jet. Straining Sidewell could just see the pilot hand a package to the car's driver, and then the jet silently rose once more in to the sky. Sidewell followed its departure until it was lost from view.

As his eyes flicked back down to the ground, he saw the car had left too; then the usual bright lights of his airfield started coming back on again. From behind he heard a slight shuffle; and still following the strangers orders he kept his eyes focused on the scene outside the window. A voice spoke in to his left ear This never happened, we were never here. That was when Sidewell sensed more than anything that his two guests had gone.

"Let my mind go ever strolling,

Down the grassy knoll of time,

Take a pot shot at the future,

And be forever mine."

Riesen and Tunnock edged through the crowd; although to say edged would probably be incorrect, for that would imply they encountered resistance. For like asteroids reflecting off a force shield, the individual people that made up the crowd seemed to turn away from them at the last second. Some might say it was a social nicety, but others knew these two men had a psychological advantage in this field. Their grey lived in suits represented the sort of mundane cog in the machine of life; they just blended in to the background like a piece of furniture; and who would just walk in to a chair?

But that was not their only line of defence, for the very faces of Riesen and Tunnock oozed a drab look of old wallpaper, slightly worn in places with a hint of peeling. You couldn't try and look that way if you wanted, it took a certain way of being, a lifetime of pointless existence. On a subconscious level, faced with such a person the brain metaphorically tries to run a mile, least the dullness infects them. But Riesen and Tunnock were far from dull. Underneath their drab exteriors sharp minds took in the scene around them in full thirty thirty vision. They weren't the cogs, they fixed the cogs, greased the wheels, they kept society on the straight and narrow. Just keeping the status quo was sloppy by their standards.

That was the reason Riesen and Tunnock were here in this small town carnival, following orders to seek out a possible disruption to the world; the world that the average Joe public would always believe existed. At least as long as Reisen, Tunnock and men like them were on their watch.

Tunnock's phone rang and he pressed a button, a button no ordinary phone had, and then he listened intently to the caller's words. Meanwhile Riesen scanned the crowd, still intent on the job. As Tunnock flipped his phone shut their eyes met. McCowan needs us at Bowman airport in North Dakota, there's a package coming in, and we need to smooth it out. Apparently there's no one else near enough to get there in time. Tunnock didn't need to carry conviction in his tone; men like them didn't waste words. Risen knew the new mission was of utmost importance, or McCowan wouldn't have pulled them off the one they were on now. Perhaps they would return afterwards, or maybe others would take up where they had left off, it didn't matter either way. Some one would do the job, and do it well.

As Tunnock turned, an odd looking man holding a pink candy floss ball on a stick almost collided with him, then jumped behind a stall. Under normal circumstances this strange move might merit further attention, but now Tunnock and Risen had been told to drop the case, and all extraneous activities beyond their getting to Bowman airport were unimportant.

"The darkness may be hiding,

More secrets than you know,

Let the light pour out the