Merely a Madness

Merely a Madness Read Free

Book: Merely a Madness Read Free
Author: SW Fairbrother
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drilling into their brains as much as it is his. Mother Kozlow's mouth is set in a too-straight line. Daddy Kozlow hasn't dared look at her once since they entered the building and now Mullen knows just whose idea the holiday was.
    Hannah points to the right. She's still grinning, hasn't even wiped the rain from her face. For the first time, instead of finding her Earth obsession a little odd (but still a little sweet) Mullen now wonders if she is in fact completely insane.
    Hannah makes for the door, and Mullen follows her as if tied to her by an invisible cord. The rest of them follow like little lost ducklings.
    Hannah steps through. There's not much behind the door: a single spiral staircase leading down into the dark. The ducklings all squash up behind Mullen when he halts suddenly in the doorway. Daddy Kozlow's gut pushes into Mullen's back.
    His pride doesn't want to admit it, but Mullen's as much a duckling as the rest of them. He thinks of the invisible cord. He'd really tie himself to Hannah if he could, if only so he can't lose her somewhere in the spiralling dark.
    The thought is absurd. It's this place. It makes you crazy. Everything is wrong. The sounds are wrong, the people are wrong, even the air is wrong. Somehow the air feels fuller . It's full of everything : cold, stink. It has a weird thickness completely unlike the recycled and carefully monitored atmosphere of the colonies. Mullen feels as if he could choke on it.
    Hannah reaches out, and light flickers; once, twice, then sticks. She doesn't hesitate, just takes off down into the depths of the Earth. Mullen follows, of course. He'd follow her into the bowels of Hell if that was where she wanted to go. He's not entirely convinced that isn't where they’re headed anyway.
    They spiral down the stairs, and feet slap behind him as the tourists follow single file. It makes him think of ducks all over again, and he has to stifle a nervous giggle.
    The walls were painted once. Peeling flecks still remain, and rectangular stains at regular intervals indicate that someone might have even decorated at some point in the distant past.
    Finally, they reach the bottom. A single bulb sparks into life and begins to buzz.
    “Oh,” Hannah says.
    Mullen can see what it was supposed to be like, and it would have been kind of nice. They're on some kind of old railway platform. Wooden steps go down to railway lines that have been restored to a shine. Nice tables and chairs with cushions fill the bottom of the railway. The far end of the tunnel has been partially bricked up, and an open door gives a glimpse of a kitchen beyond. The platform itself has sofas, bookcases, pamphlets, a couple of rugs. The same rectangular spaces from the stairway are filled with old-style Earth advertisements that would make no sense to Mullen if it weren't for Hannah's movies. Wooden doors have been fitted to the arches leading away from the platform. Rectangular plates above them have twee-sounding names, indicating bedrooms.
    Everything is covered with mud. The tables and chairs on the rails are smashed. The bookcases have been toppled, the books trampled and dirty. The place stinks of piss.
    “Oh,” Hannah says, again.
    The Boy Most Likely To Ask Stupid Questions says, “Is it supposed to be like this?”
    Mr Enthusiastic gives him the kind of despairing expression reserved by younger brothers for elder ones.
    Hannah's “no” is so soft and plaintive that Mullen is left with another twisting pain in his belly. He pulls her to him, feeling less like a duckling for the first time in hours.
    “Wait for Fisher,” he says. “He can move us. There must be other suitable venues. Come on. You'll love it. You've already been here before. I bet there'll be better accommodation somewhere.”
    Hannah nods. Usually, the opportunity to see something new from Earth would have her spinning around, but she just gives him a tight smile, and peels herself away to go check the bedrooms. Mullen puts it

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