Schalkt awoke from his hole in the trash and rubbish of the back alleys.  His shelter was made of warped plywood and anything else that would keep him out of the elements at night and out of sight of the streets.
         He brushed off his wrinkled rags, filled with the smell of the years of sweat and grime that was hardly noticeable to his nose.  He had grown accustomed to it, along with the things around him that no longer changed.  They were just there; like the city, with its endless streets and unchanging view.
         Schalkt yawned and didnÍt give a care about his clothes, his mussed hair or itchy skin.  Standing on one foot he raised the other and scratched the shin of the other leg with sharp toe nails.
         Breakfast, he thought.  He checked his clothes in search of pennies to use to buy a hard roll or a strip of jerky.  He found a few new holes in his garments, but no money.  No coins.
         The boy bit his lip as he thought and looked around.  Finding money was a hard thing to do.  People were no longer receptive to beggars.  Never had been during SchalktÍs lifetime.  The person who gave today might be holding the alms bowl the next.
         But there was no use in not trying, as far as Schalkt was concerned.  He made his sleepy way to one of the taverns on the main street.  The air was so thick with smoke and stench that it choked the boyÍs throat and made his eyes water.  On the wall over the bar itself was a mask that had always caught Schalkt's interest.  A mask that was supposed to have come from beyond the stars.  Worn by exotic people who came in shining ships, slipping between the stars and planets in the blink of an eye.
         Schalkt had no idea what a ship was or what an alien was.  He didnÍt much care about the things of the stories.  As far as he knew the mask had come from a different part of the city itself.
        "What do you want, boy" asked the barkeep.  The man was a perfect example of sewage chilled.  The ugliest, most gap-toothed, greasy, indisposing face a person had ever seen.  No doubt his mother had tried to drown him when he was born.  Not even a mother could love his face.
        "Do you have any pennies that I might borrow" Schalkt asked sweetly.
         The barkeep snorted. "If'n I had pennies, I most certainly wouldn't waste them on you."
         "Exactly how do you mean that?" Schalkt asked.
         "I donÍt waste good money on street trash and I don't waste it on skinless bones."
         "YouÍre a cruel one," Schalkt said flippantly.  He turned his head and eyed the rest of the tavern.
         "DonÍt be bothering the costumers, either," the barkeep growled.
         "I'm not bothering if I'm playing cards, now am I?" asked Schalkt as he sauntered over to one of the tables where men were playing cards.
          "Deal me in," Schalkt said boredly, taking a seat and setting it back-to-table and then sitting on that, leaning forward against the back of the chair.
         "What do you have by way of money?" the dealer asked.  "Can't play if you can't pay."
         Schalkt thought for a moment and then sighed.  "If I lose, I play," he said.
         The dealer reached over and took Schalkt by the chin and moved the boy's head from side to side, looking at his features, then looking over the boy himself.  "Oh," the dealer sighed with little enthusiasm, "I suppose."
         Schalkt took his cards and looked them over.  Not very good.  His chances of winning this hand was worse than his finding an end to the city.  There were more city walls than one could think of, but only more city on the other side.  Hopefully there were better cards beyond the ones in his hand.
         Schalkt took out two cards and asked for more.  Only a little better.  But he beamed brightly, the smile stealing over his face in fine self-satisfaction.  He drew his legs up under him and sat tailor style, beaming brightly at them.
         He could not make any bets until he actually garnered money.  If he was in debt when the final round was finished the highest winner would get him and do what he wanted with him.  A disgusting thing, but something that Schalkt had grown accustomed to.  Some had won him, some had stolen him, others had come along and had their way.  It was life.
         "Well, boy, what'll it be now?" the dealer asked, holding the deck in his hands, ready to deal the boy a card.
         "Let's see," Schalkt mused.  "I don't need this card, so you can have it."  He pulled a low card and discarded it.  In fact, he could use a new hand to be honest, but grinning boys were thought to have no head for poker and were soon parted with their money or honor.  The poor fools.
         The new card was good for him.  Veeery good.  It might actually allow him to win.  Now he only had to wait for the others to fold or call.
         They took their own sweet time about the particulars.  Schalkt had to sit through all of their bantering and raises.  Three of the five men folded, leaving Schalkt and two others.  He was starting to worry about this particular hand.  They might actually beat him.
         So long as he didn't have to pay until they were finished with the whole game, that might give him a chance to get out of the tavern, or the winner might not find any need for Schalkt.
        "Call 'em," the dealer said.
         The first man had two aces and a pair of twos.  The second a trio of threes.  The dealer put down a set of pairs as well.  Schalkt ordered his cards and put them down.  His suit was Crickets and the cards were 4-6-8-10-Queen.  Skip Straight.
        "Well, what do ya know," the dealer said as Schalkt raked in the meager booty.  "We might end up servicing the kid instead."
         "You in, kid?" asked the man to the dealer's left, now the new dealer.  "You are going to give us a chance to win back some of our money, ain't ya?"
         "A few hands, maybe," said Schalkt.  "Then I'm going to get me some breakfast."
         As it turned out Schalkt won two more hands out of the five, and then made a hasty retreat, thanking them kindly for the game and buying a round of drinks to keep them from coming after him.
         Schalkt found a meager breakfast with the money that he won.  He could have bought more than just the slice of greasy bacon and hard roll that he had gotten, but that would have attracted others to the money that he currently possessed.  A street urchin in ragged clothes with the money to buy a decent breakfast was someone who needed parting from his money. It was more money than he had had for a long time.  Schalkt decided he would have to do more gambling on a regular basis.
         As he was finishing his breakfast, wrapping the last piece of his bacon around the bite of hard roll, a shadow fell over him.  He shoved the food into his mouth and looked up.  A very large bully stood over Schalkt, casting a shadow over the boy.  Schalkt could tell that the young man was a bully just by looking at him.  The look in the eyes, the face celebrating its superiority, the meaty hamhock hands.
         Shit, Schalkt thought.  Just when the day was starting to go so well.
         Schalkt turned and bolted, taking off from his sitting position on the curb of the street.  The bully was after him.  Schalkt pulled over a set of boxes filled with discarded and used up items.  They slowed the bully for only a moment.
         For someone his size, he's fast, Schalkt thought.  The bully on his heels was rotund in the chest, belly, and ass.  Usually the like were slow and easy to get away from.  Schalkt was having his problems outrunning the bully.
         "Come 'ere," the bully said as he caught hold of the back of Schalkt's shirt.  The bully pulled back hard and yanked Schalkt off of his feet and out of his run.  Before he had time to react, the bully slammed him face down into the cobbles.  The stones rose up fast and his consciousness left even faster.

         When Schalkt awoke he was penniless once again.  His head hurt.  It had not hurt this bad even the last time he had gotten drunk.  There was dried blood that flaked onto his fingers.  The boy's stomach rolled and felt like upheaving its contents.  Schalkt swallowed the bile that first rose.  He had done a lot just to get that food, he was not about to lose it now.  It was staying right he had put it.
         Schalkt rose groggily, swaying a little as his vision blurred and his head swam.  The first thing he wanted to do was get rid of the blood from his face and see how badly he was cut.  Then the next order of business was finding some place to lie down and just be still for a long, long time.
         The boy found a bucket of rainwater under a rain spout along the side of a building.  He washed his face in the water and drank a little as well.  He grimaced at the taste of his own blood in the water, but it tasted good to him, nonetheless.
 Rags to riches to rags.  It was not the first time this had happened to Schalkt.  Times before he had lost a purse-worth of pennies.
         Lunchtime was nearly upon him and with the food that he had eaten for breakfast he found that he was growing hungrier.  If he could get three meals this day it would be a cause worth celebrating.
         The best possible way of finding money would be for him to lift something from one of the street vendors and then fencing it as quickly as possible or exchanging it for food.  Schalkt made his way to the street lined with vendors and stalls.
         The hagglers tending the stalls shouted him away whenever they saw him.  Street urchins were bad for business, especially when business was already bad.
         Further on were some of the more expensive items that people in rich and ornate clothes tried to sell.  Gold bracelets, extremely old and often rare, earrings, rings, necklaces and other things that Schalkt wasn't even sure of.  The boy licked his lip as if he were comparing delicate pastries.
         The owner of the valuables was haggling with a costumer, the vendor's speech dropping into the slurred language used for haggling.  There were a lot of insults passed back and forth in proper order.  As the two argued, the boy continued to scratch himself all over and to absently reach his hand outward and deftly take small objects of value and secret them in the folds of his shirt and pants.
         Suddenly one of the men turned to him and asked his opinion about something.  Startled, the boy looked at the costumer and put together a quick yawn.
         "What'd'ya say?" Schalkt asked sleepily.
         "Which is better?" asked the costumer, holding two bracelets made of stamped gold and adorned with colored glass.  "The green glass or the blue glass."
         "The blue," Schalkt said, lazily pointing to the bracelet with the blue glass.
         The costumer looked back to the vendor and placed the green back on the stand and continued haggling over the price.
 Schalkt turned away, giving a slow, broad smile and made his way from the stand and down the street.  He came to an alley and turned into it, looking for a fencer who lived in this area.
         Something was wrong, though.
         There were guards coming down the street and making their way to the alley.  He heard the voice of the shopkeeper among them, jabbering that his things had been stolen.  A boy had passed by who had lingered at the stand.
         Schalkt bolted down the alley, only to meet a stone wall at the end of it.  It was the wrong alley!  How could he have made such a stupid mistake?  He was trapped.
         The guards ran him down and cuffed him a number of times in the head and body.  He was kicked in the stomach and batted with clubs.  Schalkt cried out at the punishment and the pain.
         As the guards held him down, the stand owner confiscated his valuables from the pockets in Schalkt's clothes and left the boy for the guards.
         Schalkt was physically light and easily carried away while thrashing in the crook of the arm of the guard who carried him.  They took him back to the street in front of the stand he had pilfered from and then stripped him of his clothes, searching further for items that belonged to the stand owner.
         Schalkt stood in the street naked and shivering from cold and fear.  People were stopping in the street and laughing at him, pointing fingers and flinging stones at him.  One nicked him in the cheek and he turned away in pain.  Squeezing tears from his eyes.
         He tried to take off one more time, but was caught by a guard quicker than himself, who wrapped an arm around his body.  Schalkt bit the guardÍs hand and tried to kick loose.  He took for the alleys once again.  The second time he was clubbed down, blood splashing on the ground as his head impacted on the hard cobbles.  Schalkt's eyes slid shut with the view of the grey skies above.

         "What's your name?"
         "Schalkt," the boy said to the street magistrate who towered over him, looking down at the boy in disgust, his arms crossed in displeasure.  All around them were farm animals.  A group of chickens were clucking noisily, short attempts to flight made with the beat of useless wings.  Half a dozen pigs snuffled about in search for fallen grain.  The magistrate held court wherever he happened to be at the time.  This time when the guards brought Schalkt to the magistrate the man was bargaining for the price of farm animals.  A pig shoved up against Schalkt in an attempt to get at the straw that Schalkt was sprawled upon.  His hands were tied behind his back and shafts of straw dug into his naked flesh.
         Around Schalkt there were other pigs, a dog, its tail wagging and chickens making their low clucks and conversation with each other.  The place smelled of animal shit.
         "Schalkt, you are guilty of stealing precious items and living as a parasite on the good people of this city."
         Schalkt hawkered and spat indignantly on the ground to the side, landing it near the pig.  The magistrate did not take kindly to that and kicked Schalkt in the stomach, illiciting a cry of pain from the boy and chuckles from the guards.
 The boy rolled onto his back and coughed, his ribs burning.  The face of the magistrate swam into his field of vision.  The judge wore all black with a white sash at his waist and a shiny badge on his breast, marking his office.  The face of the magistrate was grim.  The corners of his mouth pulled downward in displeasure for his surroundings.  The sight of the unclean beasts and their smells of dung were an assault to the magistrate's gentle senses.
         The only time mercy came from the magistrates was when their price was paid and today Schalkt had no more money or trinkets to pass the magistrate.  The only things in his hands were the loose ends of the cords that lashed his wrists.
         "It's because of parasites like you that this city is being rotted out from its core.  Creatures such as yourself disgust and repulse me.  There is only one way to be done with the likes of yourself, boy.  Two actually, but since this is a civilized court and the sentence of death shall not be called upon.  You are, instead, sentenced to life imprisonment in the Mansion on the Hill where you will serve out the remainder of your life as a prisoner.
         "Get this dung heap out of my sight."
         As the magistrate turned away Schalkt felt his body shudder as the realization of his fate sank in.  He could feel tears stinging at the corners of his eyes.  He had hoped, somehow, that this would not be his fate.  He had held onto the possibility that he would be able to remain free on the streets.
         In a quiet voice he muttered, "Damndamndamndamn..."
         The pig was coming near Schalkt once again, sniffing at the boy's feet.  Schalkt kicked out and caught the pig in the snout, illiciting a high squeal of pain from the pig.
         That was the last high point to Schalkt's day.

         It was called the Mansion on the Hill.
         Centuries ago, at least according to the old wives' tales, the mansion had been home to the governor of the city and was a highly respected place.
         Just like the mask in the tavern there were stories dealing with aliens from the stars who came in shining ships filled with exotic creatures.
         Schalkt had never seen such aliens and were no more real to him than the idea that there was an end to the city somewhere and that grass grew green and trees grew tall on open plains.
         If there had been aliens where were they now?  There were stories for that as well.  Many said that something happened to cause the aliens to leave the world and the city.  Some event that drove them away and made the city grow.  There was a word that people said which Schalkt didn't know.  The word was cancer and that word was used to describe the city although few knew what it meant.
         The mansion was the largest, and only, prison for the city.  The mansion itself was a small city unto itself.  Incredibly large and spatial.  The grounds that went along with the mansion were measured in the acres.  Walls surrounded the mansion, reinforcing the idea that it was a micro version of the city.
         This was where the few laws of the city dealt with its criminals.  The Mansion was the strongest sentence and often the only.  The magistrates placed all of the parasites that they didn't like here.
         Sentences were always for life, making it easier for the magistrates and the rest of the city to forget and ignore the problem of its trash.  People were sent to the mansion, often urchin children like Schalkt himself, and left to grow up, grow old and die.
         Generations of prisoners lived here.  Inside of the walls there were no set rules and coupling occured often enough.  Babies were born within the mansion walls and would die behind the walls as well.
         The guards released Schalkt from his bonds and the new inmate rubbed his wrists where the tightly bound rope had bitten into his flesh.
         "Welcome to your new home, shit eater," one of the guards said, giving Schalkt a hard slap on the back that knocked the wind out of the boy.  With that the guards turned and left.
         Schalkt looked around at the fellow youngsters as they regarded him.  After a quick glance at him most turned away and went back to their own lives.  Schalkt sighed.  So this was home now.
         Schalkt's first obstacle in his new home greeted him after the guards had left the area.  A gang of boys ranging in age from fourteen or fifteen to much younger than Schalkt himself, who was twelve.
         "So you're what they call the street trash," the leader of the gang said, leaning close.  Schalkt turned away from the taunter, the bully's breath searing out the passages of Schalkt's nose.
         "And I take it you're a mansion bastard," Schalkt retorted.  It wasn't a question.
         "Your time here is going to be quite short, gimp" the bully said menacingly, leaning close to Schalkt and leering.
 Schalkt smiled as the bully advanced.  As the bully came close to him, Schalkt raised his knee, hard.  His knee slammed into the groin of the bully and doubled the larger over in pain.  Schalkt then upper-cut the chin of the gang leader.
         Schalkt hoped that the others would honor the fight and not interfere on behalf of their leader.  If they honored the fight then Schalkt might have a chance to usurp the bully's place as leader.  If Schalkt could stay on the offensive.
         They stayed clear of the battle although some wanted to stop it in their leader's favor.  The younger ones were willing to see what happened.
         The bully lunged desperately for Schalkt, hoping to get Schalkt under his superior weight.  Schalkt side-stepped and gave an added push to send the bully head first into the pool that had been to Schalkt's back.
         The leader of the gang surfaced, gasping for breath.  He treaded water as he looked up at Schalkt with an unhidden look of hatred and knowledge of defeat on his face.
         Schalkt squatted down beside the pool and looked to the leader with a smile.  "I think it would be a good time for you to leave," Schalkt said, "and without your gang members.  And by the way, don't ever call me a gimp."  The last was said with no smile on Schalkt's face.
         Schalkt stood back and let the bully pull himself out of the pool, dripping with water.  Some of the older members of the gang came forward to help their fallen leader.  The bully pushed them aside and looked coldly at Schalkt.  Then he turned to leave, signaling the older bullies to follow him.
         The gang members who stayed enjoyed what they had seen.  That was when Schalkt noticed some of the bruises on them.  It was easy to understand why they didn't want the older boys to interfere in the fight.
         Schalkt smiled at his new gang.  "So, what're your guys' names?" he asked.
         "My name's Jimms," said a ten year old with brown hair.  His hand did not rise to shake Schalkt's.  It was badly burned and scarred.  No doubt the work of the former leader.  "The one you just beat was Poz."
         Schalkt nodded as the next came up and spoke to Schalkt.  He had sandy-blond hair and a scar on the side of his neck.  "My name is Unith," he said, extending his hand.  Schalkt shook it.
         "What happened to your neck?" Schalkt asked.  "Did Poz do that?"
         Unith shook his head.  "My mother," Unith corrected.  "She couldn't stand being here."
         That was all Unith said and Schalkt didn't ask for more.
         The third just looked at Schalkt.  He was nice looking.  Too nice looking.  Schalkt looked into the eyes of the boy and saw more pain and hatred than in any other person he had seen in his life.  There was also an incredible sense of loss in the boy's eyes.  He had been beaten around a great deal over the years.  Schalkt could tell by the scars, bruises still fresh, and a number of scabs all over his body.
         "His name's Yiwt," piped up another who tried to steal Schalkt's attention.  "My name's L'que."  He held forth his hand proudly and Schalkt took it in his own, having his own arm pumped up and down energetically as the face of L'que beamed at him.
         "T'mm," said the next as he stepped forward.  He had black hair cut in a bowl shape.  He was thin and wiry.
         "T'mm," Schalkt said, rolling the m's gently on his tongue.  An odd name.
         The sixth was older than the others and a quiet boy. He looked older than Schalkt himself.  His hair was bleached and his eyebrows were so light that Schalkt could barely see them.  He was also a gentle presence about him.
         "My name is Darnt," the last member said.  "We've been waiting for someone like you."
         "Waiting?" Schalkt said.  "You mean to get rid of Poz?"
         Darnt nodded.  "None of us were in the gang for the fun of it.  It was because Poz wanted us there."
         "For his own reasons?" Schalkt asked.  He already knew the answer.
         Darnt nodded affirmatively.
         "Tell you guys what.  I'm going to have Darnt show me around the mansion.  The rest of you go find some trouble of your own.  No reason for only a few to have fun."
         They took off like a shot.  They were evidently more than ready to be troublesome.
         "Poz will be back, you know," Darnt said in his soft voice.
         Schalkt nodded.  "I know.  I'd be surprised if he wasn't.  I've embarrassed him."
         "More than anyone else ever has."
         "Don't take this wrong, but I think I got the shorter end of the deal.  Poz got off with the stronger half of the gang."
         "But he also got humiliated.  The ones that went with him you wouldn't have liked anyways.  They were assholes that surrounded a mean son of a bitch."
         Schalkt gave a look of disgust.  He decided to change the subject.  "I'm getting hungry.  I haven't eaten for awhile."  A piece of bacon and a hard roll were hardly enough to constitute a day's worth of food.  Especially if the rumors were true and one could always find something to eat in the mansion.
         Darnt chewed his lip and nodded.  "Now that you mention it, I think I'm a little hungry, too.  Let's see what we can find."

         "Like it?" Darnt asked as Schalkt bit into his meat roll.
         Schalkt nodded emphatically.  It was the most amazing thing.  There was food here and there were people willing to make meals for him.  It was the first time in his life that he had not been forced to pay for it or be yelled off.  He was beginning to like place.  Between the loss of a hand and life imprisonment, this was by far the better of the two.
         "Good," Darnt said.  "It grows on you."  Schalkt stopped in mid-chew and looked at Darnt questioningly.
         Schalkt changed the subject again.  "How's the favorite pasttime here?" he asked.
         "What's that?" asked Darnt as they walked away from the commonplace eating area.
         "Girls," Schalkt said with a devilish smile.
         "Oh," Darnt replied, his face going sober.  "Poz wasn't interested in girls.  But there are some good looking ones here."
         "What did Poz like?" Schalkt asked warily.
         "Mostly Unith," Darnt replied.  "And often me."  The look on Darnt's face suggested that the food in his mouth had suddenly rotted.
         Schalkt nodded.  "I know what it's like.  It's not fun."
         "No, it's not."

         Schalkt met her one day, a year after he had been brought to the mansion, while swimming in the pools with the members of his gang.  It was a mutual attraction for the two.
         They called her Mousey because of the color of her hair.  It was said that she had once had a pet mouse as well.  And she a had small voice, not squeaky, but small and gentle.
         Her disposition was also much better than that of a rodent.  She was also incredibly simple minded at times.  Yet there was something deep within her, though, that attracted Schalkt to her.  Some kind of deep sense and wisdom that she kept hidden.  He wanted to find that inner part of her.
         She liked soft clothes that matched her disposition.  She was a gentle being who was just as equally fragile in her own way.  She liked gentle touches and gentle hearts.  It was a lesson for Schalkt.  But one that he gladly learned for her sake.
         The life in the mansion turned his perceptions inside out.  He had found close friends in the gang who accepted Mousey openly, finding her a new experience.  A girl as part of a gang.  Most of the younger boys didn't know how to act with girls, Schalkt felt that that was just fine with him.
         Schalkt and Mousey, along with Darnt, became something of pool monitors; settling arguments amongst the youths and watching that no one drowned.  In the past a body floated to the top from time to time.  Schalkt wanted to make sure that that didn't happen any more.  The bowels of the mansion belonged to him now and he was going to run it his way.
         With the passing months spent looking after the younger children in this way brought an unusual feeling to Schalkt.  He found himself taking responsibility for them.  No matter what happened in the pools Schalkt was always thinking of the children first.  Something that was new for him.  It was like being a father in some ways.  An odd feeling.
 
         During the nights in the mansion the lights were dimmed or turned out, only a trickle of light left to see by.  Dim shadows of the light danced across the walls of the lower areas, reflected off of the gentle movement of the pools.  The surfaces of the water were never still.  The water was always fresh and clean.  The level of the pools never fell, either.
         These were hardly things of interest to most of the inhabitants as the children pulled out woven mats and rugs to sleep on at night.  A few managed to find small cubby holes that they curled up in.
         Schalkt, due to his status, had a cubby which he shared with Mousey.  A large mat on the floor with a little wooden table, a mishappen construction of painted wood, and a candle on the tiny table.
         Tonight the light of the candle flickered on MouseyÍs face as she lay across SchalktÍs lap, half awake.  Schalkt had been unable to find sleep yet this night and had kept Mousey up as well.  He coaxed her into dozing off after having held her in his arms for some time.
         Schalkt was thinking of what had happened over the past few years since he had been brought to the Mansion on the Hill.  A great many things.  Being with the children in the belly of the mansion had instilled new feelings and new conflicts upon Schalkt.  Mousey had made those feelings even more confusing.  He had always been alone, not cared for and had not cared for anyone.  Now he was cared for and he cared for others.  The situation was still alien to him.
         "Mousey?" Schalkt whispered, hoping she wouldn't hear him, that she had passed onward into sleep.
         "Hmmm?" she replied, turning her head ever so slightly up towards the light, like a kitten waking from a nap.
         Schalkt had hoped she would not awaken and what he wanted to talk about could be put aside for another time.  Just as he had been putting it off for the past couple of weeks.  He had spent a lot of time talking to her back, and not to her.
         "Do you like it here?" he asked, stretching out his hand and touching the brown curls of her hair.  "Do you ever wish you lived somewhere other than in the bottom of the mansion.  Have you ever thought of getting out of the mansion and the city itself?"
         Mousey shrugged against Schalkt's belly.  "I've always lived in the mansion, I don't know anything about the city.  Only that it"s endless."
         "Maybe it's not.  Maybe no one has ever gone far enough to see the end of the city.  There might be a whole different world out there, beyond all the walls."
         "How do we get there?" Mousey whispered.  "Do we just walk out of the mansion and through the walls that surround the mansion?  The one thing they guard here are the walls and gate.  How do we find the end of an endless city?  How many years would it take to get to find the end?"
         "So you don't mind being in the mansion," Schalkt said.  "Even if it is forever?"
         "For now, it's fine," she replied in a breathy whisper.
         "I'm glad," Schalkt said, putting his arms around her lithe form.  "Can I ask you something, Mousey?"
         She looked at him, seeing a strain on his face that she had never seen before.  She nodded.  "Of course."
         Schalkt wet his lips with the tip of his tongue and groped for the words that he was looking for.  He leaned his head closer to Mousey's, until they could feel each others breath breezing across their faces.
         "Have you ever thought about having babies?" Schalkt asked in a strained voice.  He couldn't hear his words in his own ears and he didn't know if Mousey had heard him at all.
         She had.  In response she put a hand to Schalkt's face, laying the warm palm of her hand on his cheek, feeling the downy fluff invisible to all things other than caress.  She smiled against his chest as she leaned her head on him.
         "No," she said.
 Schalkt was stunned by the fact that he had actually said what he had and that Mousey had responded.  He could find no response to her response.
         "We have plenty to look after already," Mousey said as she lay back down, pulling Schalkt down with her.  She held him close to her.  "Now sleep, Schalkt."

         He obeyed and let the world swim away from his conscious mind.
         The next day Schalkt and Mousey were sitting at the edge of the pool.  Schalkt had stripped to a loincloth.  Mousey wore one as well along with one of Schalkt's oversized shirts.
         Mousey had not spoken about the night before and Schalkt had remained quiet, sleeping little the whole day.  Mousey was willing to give him time to come out of the fugue he was in from the questions and answers of the night before.
         Today the pools were busy, people from multiple levels of the mansion came to cool off in the pools on a day that was turning out to be hot and muggy.
         "Hey guys!" someone called from the other side of the pool that Schalkt and Mousey sat at.  Both looked in time to be hit by the spray of ruptured water as Darnt dive-bombed his way into the water, scattering water and other swimmers in multiple directions.
         Darnt surfaced as Mousey and Schalkt both wiped water off of themselves.  The gang member pointed and laughed at them as he spouted water.  He swam close to them and turned over in a slow backflip, placing his hands on the bottom of the pool in a handstand.  With his feet and legs he kicked at the water and sprayed the two.
         As Darnt pulled himself back into an upright position Schalkt got to his feet and dived in.  Darnt shielded himself from the water spray and Mousey was once again blasted by water.  Darnt started to take off in the water and had Schalkt following him.
         Schalkt caught up with his friend and surfaced, pulling a water spout up with him.  Before the water had reached the highest point in its arc Schalkt was pushing Darnt back under the surface.  Darnt kicked free and pulled back up again, dragging air into his lungs with a gasp.  Schalkt followed and wrapped his arms around his friend.
         "Guess what," Schalkt called into Darnt's ear and pulled Darnt back under again.  Schalkt repositioned himself and kept his head out of the water as Darnt kicked and struggled beneath him.  He looked at Mousey and gave a prideful grin.
         The grin changed to shocked surprise as Darnt found leverage in the pool and lifted both himself and Schalkt upwards.  Schalkt fell backwards into the water, his back slapping hard against the surface, and then sank under.
         "Now that's how it's done," Darnt said pridefully with a sloping grin reaching back to his ear.  Then it was his turn to lose the grin as Schalkt pulled Darnt's leg out from under him and sent the youth face first into the water.
         Schalkt emerged and shook the water out of his hair, making like a wet dog.  Mousey turned away from the spray with a mock shriek.  Schalkt bounded slowly through the water towards her.
         "Where's Darnt?" Mousey asked as she wiped water from her face.
         "He'll be up pretty soon," Schalkt said.
         Darnt obliged his leader's words and sprang from the water.  The youth landed on Schalkt's back and pulled him backwards, both of them falling into the water.  Mousey saw the sudden shock on Schalkt's face and couldn't stop from laughing at the antics of the two.
         Squeezing out tears from her eyes as her sides started to hurt from mirth, she didn't see the two sets of hands pulling out of the water and grab her legs.
         She stopped laughing immediately as she tried to simultaneously shriek and take breath.  She slid off of the side of the pool and broke the water.
         Darnt and Schalkt emerged, laughing.  The two slapped each other five.  Then Mousey took out the legs of both.

         After swimming Schalkt and Darnt made their way to the top of the mansion and the balconies on the upper levels of the structure.  There they laid out on the cracked paint and cement with the sun still in the upper reaches of the grey sky.  There was more light and warmth coming through the clouds recently than there had been for years.  No one knew why.  Most didn't notice.  And those who did didn't care.  Schalkt was one of the few who both noticed and cared.
         "So what are the streets like?" Darnt asked as he shifted his face towards Schalkt.  Darnt still had his eyes closed as he rested his face upon folded hands.  The warm sun tingled across his back, drying off the water.
         "That's at least the hundredth time you've asked," Schalkt said sleepily.  He rested the side of his head against his outstretched arm.  His eyes were closed and he wanted to keep them that way.  Playing in the pools was exhaustive work.
         "Tell me again.  The city's endless, you must have had endless adventure and stories to tell."
         "I only spent twelve years on the streets," Schalkt said, cracking his eyes open just a little so he could see Darnt.  Darnt had now opened his eyes and was looking directly at Schalkt.  "And at least the first five years I don't remember.  Lots of other spaces are fuzzy, too."
         "Do you have any stories about aliens?" Darnt asked.  There was a hunger in his voice that he was trying hard to hide.
         "Aliens?" Schalkt asked.  "What about aliens?"
         "I've heard tell that there're supposed to be a lot of things that the aliens left behind from the years that they spent in the city."
         "No such thing as aliens," Schalkt said sluggishly.  "Just stories."
         "Stories have to start from somewhere," Darnt prodded.
         Schalkt nodded his agreement and pointed to his head.  Then he twirled his finger and pointed to Darnt.
         Darnt hid his frustration with Schalkt and continued to work at the problem.  "I've heard that the aliens are coming back," Darnt said.  "Some of the guards and new arrivals said that there was a small ship that fell from the skies.  All shiny and silver, spitting weird fires."
         "You sound like you're brain numb," Schalkt said, opening his eyes further.  "What is a ship?  I've never seen a ship for water, air or the stars.  I've only heard old stories.  How would anyone else know what a ship looked like, even if it hit them?"
         Darnt shrugged his shoulders.  "Maybe the alien told them it was a ship."
         Schalkt smirked at Darnt's words.  "And what does the alien look like?"
         "They said she looked like a cat," Darnt said.
         Schalkt suppressed a giggle.  "Probably a mutated farm animal from a different part of the city that someone said talked.  But really, a she-cat from the stars?"
         Darnt frowned at being put down.  "Just what I heard," Darnt said in retort.
         Schalkt nodded.  "I know.  But you can't trust everything people tell you."
         Darnt sighed and recradled his head on his folded hands.  Schalkt imitated his friend and the two of them drifted into sleep under the warm sun.

         Despite his jibes towards Darnt's story of an alien, talkking she-cat Schalkt still had to wonder about them.  He remembered the odd mask in the tavern where he had gambled the day he had been sentenced to the mansion.  There were stories associated with the mask saying it was of alien origin.
         But how could anyone be so sure?  Who really believed such things?  Schalkt already knew the answer to that.  People who had to know that there was something beyond the city.  If the alien had simply come from another part of the world it would mean that everyone in the city had a new hope to escape the boundless streets, buildings, and filth.
         If the alien came from the stars then there was even greater hope for mysteries and sights never before seen or heard.
 Schalkt could feel himself growing hungry.  A hunger that he had never before had.  It was the same hunger that was starting to infect many people in the city.  Most were not dreamers like Schalkt.  Not as many had the desire to be free of the city, despite what they might feel.

         That night Schalkt had trouble sleeping again.  This time Mousey was next to him with her back turned towards him, sleeping peacefully.  He didn't disturb her this night as he pondered and thought.  Something was nagging at his brain.  Something that he thought he knew, but was having a hard time finding.  Something that might tie in with the stories of the alien.
         After more than an hour of mind searching Schalkt finally dozed off fitfully.  In the city outside the mansion an old bell dully rang out the midnight hour.  There was no way that he could have heard the bell deep in the pits of the mansion, but he still came awake with a start.
         His wakefullness was not complete.  Things kept swimming by him.  At a point he even thought that he had fallen into the pools and was trying desperately to get back out before he drowned.
         Standing close to a wall he thrashed his arms wildly, thinking that he was pushing upwards through the water.  The sudden pain of the contact of his arm into the side of the wall jolted some sense into his half-aware daze.
         Schalkt stopped his actions and looked at the wall, seeing he was in the common area, but still far from the pools themselves.  There was blood along the side of his hand and up the side of his forearm.  With the blood came a stinging sensation.
         Hissing at the pain Schalkt touched the scrapes gingerly with his fingertips.  His hand and arm moved away in opposite directions at the sharp flare of the new pain when he probed his wound.  He decided not to mess with it any more.
         The next problem before Schalkt was the question of what he was doing here.  What had roused him?  Was someone hurt or in the pools calling for help?
         Schalkt looked around him and at the softly moving tops of the pools.  There were no bodies in the pools and there didn't seem to be any voices carrying down that would have roused him.  The mansion was never completely quiet but tonight it was unusually still, as if sensing something or preparing for something that Schalkt had no knowledge of.
         He looked along the wall and found something that was peculiar.  There was a stairway that led downwards.  It was a thin opening in the wall and a thin stairway, but it was there nonetheless.  It was also a feature that had always been there and Schalkt knew it.  For some reason he had never paid attention to it and from what he knew of the others in the area they never had, either.  Not once had the stairway come up in conversation.  There were never any children playing by it or on the stairs themselves.
         Perhaps now was as good a time as any to explore what the stairway was and where it led to.
         There was a single-bulb light that hung from a rusty wire above the stairs just inside of the entrance.  Schalkt reached up and pulled the short, brass chain that turned on the light.  His eyes winced at the sudden light, even though it was dull.  Schalkt stood there for a few minutes while his eyes painfully and slowly adjusted.
         When he could see again he looked down the stairway.  It went maybe twenty steps down and then suddenly ended.  The light at the bottom of the stairs was dim, but he could still tell that the steps ended abruptly.  There was no place that the stairs seemed to lead to.  Just a dead end.
         "Then I shouldn't get into any trouble," Schalkt muttered as he started down onto the first step, his bare feet slapping the chiselled stone.  There was no depression in the steps that one found in well-traveled stairs.  They weren't used often, if ever.
 There were only twenty steps but it seemed to take half an hour for Schalkt to make his way down to the bottom.  He didn't like these steps and he was unusually cautious.
         At the bottom of the steps something reflected the light of the bulb from above.  Schalkt stood on the last step and squatted down for a closer look.  He wasn't certain, but it looked to him as though there were some kind of red gems laid into the floor.  Four large rubies placed at four different points in a circle that was carved into the stone of the floor.  Two more circles sat within the outer one, also set with what Schalkt took for rubies, but with the stones set at different intervals for each circle.  There was a carving in the center that his eyes couldn't make out in the dim light, he was straining to see what he could.
         Thoughts of Darnt's talk about an alien catwoman on the planet came to Schalkt's mind.  Did she have any connection with the stones?  Did she know what they were for?
         The rubies in the floor and the carvings that they were set into meant something but Schalkt had no idea what.  There was one thing that did register in his mind; that whatever the purpose of the stones they could very easily prove dangerous to the boy.  It was a sixth sense that he had ignored too often before.
         Even if the alien did know about the rubies, how would Schalkt ever find her or ask her about the stones and the carvings?  Impossible as long as he was in the mansion.
         Sighing at the unsolvable mystery before him Schalkt turned and started his way back up the stone steps, leaving the rubies behind him.
         He wandered around the pools aimlessly for some time as he thought.  The need for fresh air suddenly seemed imperative to him.  Schalkt took the stairs that led upwards to the rest of the mansion.
         Instead of exiting the mansion and making for the lawn outside, Schalkt continued his ascent of stairs, passing by doorways and passages.  All were dark and silent.  Unusual in the mansion.  No matter what time of night there were always people still awake and doing something.  Tonight there was no activity.  Complete silence all around him.  Schalkt felt the hairs of his neck start to rise in fear and uncertainty.
         As he came to the landing of the top floor he saw her.  She was as Darnt had described her.  A woman with the features of a cat.  The eyes reflected the dim light of the area.  There was soft fur covering her face, hands and neck.  He couldn't see the rest of her.  She wore a uniform that covered her body.  Her ears stood at the top of her head, ending in points, resembling small triangles.  Schalkt couldn't tell if she had a tail, but somehow he thought that she did, it seemed right.
         Schalkt felt his mouth work in surprise and a sudden need to ask a dozen questions of her.  About the rubies set in the floor at the bottom of ther mysterious stairs, about her ship, the stars.  Did she know if there was an end to the city?  Yet no words managed to come out of his mouth.
         She nodded to him, her strange cat's eyes regarding him clothed in only a loincloth.  The embarrassment that Schalkt would have normally felt seeing a stranger in his current dress did not come to him.  It was not important.
         Schalkt reached out a hand to her, to stop her and ask the questions that his mind had formulated but his mouth could not bring to fruition.
         She stepped away, a fluid grace in her movements.  Schalkt tried to watch her passage but she slipped into the shadows and was beyond his sight in moments.  Schalkt looked around him, hoping to see some trace of her, a silhouette or image of her.  There was nothing.
         Schalkt slumped to the floor and tried to think.  He could not, there was only fog in his head in place of coherent thought.  Schalkt did know that he had lost a chance.  He hoped there would be other chances in the future.
         How long he sat there he didn't know.  Just that the sky was growing light when he finally rose and made his way back down to the pools in the bottom of the mansion.

         The days were growing longer and brighter.  The grey skies were becoming lighter.  No longer quite so grey.  It was an odd thing for people to watch.  All their lives the skies had been grey, with red in the nights as the sun went down.  Now the skies were becoming lighter in color, streaks of real white and even blue.
         Schalkt brought Mousey to the roof to see the changing skies.  She was as awed about it as Schalkt and most of the others in the mansion.
         "It's almost beautiful," she said, only a whisper of voice in his ear.  They sat together on the roof, watching the skies slowly clear away, letting bright light, warmth, and beauty through.
         "It's a sign," Schalkt said.  "A sign that things are changing."  Schalkt's face was bright, like the skies themselves.  There was a questing gaze behind his eyes.  He was looking towards the heavens and beyond, lost in dreams.
         "Changing how?" Mousey asked, though she had an idea of what he meant.
         "That the city is ending and those who really want to get out can."
         He looked to her with a dreamy smile on his face.  He still wanted to escape from the mansion and the city.  He was too free to be kept here forever.  Mousey knew it and she knew that sooner or later Schalkt would leave, either with or without her.
         His words were only a guess at what might be really going on.  Still, he would never stop looking until he knew that what he sought could not be found.  Mousey would have to decide soon:  to go with Schalkt or to stay behind and say good-bye to him.
         "You're still planning on trying to escape?" Mousey said.
         Schalkt didn't answer at first.  Then he shrugged his shoulders.  "I don't know yet.  There's something going on in the mansion that I wonder about."
         Mousey furrowed her brow.  "What?"
         "I saw something the other night in the mansion.  It's the she-cat woman that Darnt had spoken of.  I saw her and then she disappeared.  But I know that she'll be back."
         "And what will you do when she does come back?" Mousey asked.  This was the first that Schalkt had said on the subject to Mousey and it worried her, that there was something else diverting his interest and the rumors of an alien on the planet.
         "Ask her," Schalkt said.  "Ask her if there really is an end to the city, is there life out there, beyond the the stars?  Why is she here and what is she looking for?"
         Mousey closed her eyes as she listened to Schalkt.  It already felt like she was losing him.  There was a great distance between the two even though they sat together on the roof of the mansion.  Still, there was the overwhelming sense that he was preparing to leave.
         Perhaps now was the time to tell him.  She bit her lip and decided against it.
 
         A few nights later Schalkt again woke and made his way to the stairs that led downward to a dead end.  By the time he realized what he was doing he had already turned on the light.  He didn't know what he was going to do here.  The only thing that he did know was that he should go down and explore the floor again, try to solve the mystery that was waiting below.
         Schalkt moved down the stone stairs.  After only a few steps he could see the rubies breaking the light of the bulb above and refracting it.
         There was something strange about the rubies that were set in the floor.  Last time they had been dull and dark, only barely breaking the light.  This time they were a vibrant red, clean and flawless.  The dust that had previously settled into the carvings was gone.
         The rubies themselves seemed to glow as he approached.
         Before he had been exceptionally cautious.  This time he let caution stay behind as he approached the rubies, going down the last few steps to stand beside them.  They were glowing, ever so slightly.  How they were glowing and where the light came from for them to glow was beyond Schalkt's understanding.
         Schalkt stood to one side of the settings and looked at them with a scrutinizing eye.  There was something here if only he could find out what it was and what it meant.  Gingerly squatting down, he reached out a finger and stroked one of the rubies.
 In response the ruby glowed brighter, became warm under his touch.
         Schalkt stood and thought for a moment, arguing with himself over what he was going to to do.  To hell with arguments.  Taking resolve he stepped forward and onto the carvings in the floor, holding his breath and closing his eyes as he waited to see if anything happened.
         He didn't feel anything.
         When Schalkt opened his eyes again he knew that something had happened, but he wasn't sure what.  There had been the landing of the stairs and the rubies only moments before.  Now there was a cavern.  A cavern that was large, cold, dark and damp.
         Schalkt looked around himself in sudden fear.  The only thing he knew for certain was that he was no longer in the mansion.  Mousey's face swam into his thoughts as he thought of her with rising fear.
         "You are the one called Schalkt?"
         Schalkt spun in the darkness, looking for the source of the voice.  He could not find it and the air was getting colder.  He wrapped his arms around himself, seeing the dim frost of his breath rise before his face.
         "Who's there?" Schalkt demanded.
         There was a torch flare before him.  He shielded his eyes with an upheld hand and tried to see what was within the light of the flare.  It was the she-cat.
         "Who are you?" Schalkt asked.  Oddly he felt secure in seeing her here.  If she intended him harm she would have done it by now. There was nothing harmful about her, though.  That he knew for a certainty.
         "I am known, in your language, as Marsweena.  Where I come from, which is what your next question no doubt would be, is hard to explain.  Let me simply say that it is from another planet."
         "Can you guess my next question as well?"
         "Why are you here?" she said confidently.  He nodded.
         "That will take some explaining.  I will try to relate the events to you as well as I can.
         "Centuries ago the planet and the city that you live in were massive centers of trade and culture.  Life then was greatly different than the poor excuse for existence that your people currently live in.
         "Then something changed.  Something happened deep within this world to change things.  It was a long time before we understood what it was.  A presence had awakened within the heart of this world.  A presence that changed reality on this world.  The city--this is hard to explain to a boy--became endless as you would say.  It currently encompasses the entire world.  No beginning and no end.  A repetitive loop.
         "That awareness started stirring nearly a hundred years ago.  With that stirring the reality of this world changed with it.  Now it is becoming fully aware of its surroundings and of itself.  You have captured the attention of this awareness.  It has been searching for a vessel to contain itself in.  A host.  It would seem that it has chosen you."
         "Why?"
         "Because you are not like the rest of the people on this world or in this city.  You have curiosity, a sense of caring, and a need for answers.  The awareness has been looking for one with such attributes.  It must find someone that is capable of understanding it and which it feels confident in."
         Schalkt shook his head.  "This is making no sense.  I just want to go back to the mansion.  Make sure Mousey's alright.  I don't want to be a--host --r whatever you said this awareness was looking for.  It's not what I want."
         "In life we are forced to accept many things that we do not want.  You have been chosen and in a way you have already made your own choice by exploring the gateway that brought you here.  It is too late to turn back now."
         "No," Schalkt muttered to himself.  "Damndamndamn."  First the sentencing to the mansion over three years before and now this.  There was no control over his own life, no matter what he wanted to do and no matter what he did to try and maintain some kind of control over it, someone else was pulling the strings.
         "What happens to me now?" Schalkt asked.  He looked into the eyes of Marsweena.  She saw tears on his cheeks.  The strain was breaking him down.  He was too young, too unprepared for something like this.
         "That is up to the awareness," Marsweena said.
         "Mousey, I'm sorry," Schalkt whispered, looking up at the roof of the cavern.  "I'm sorry."
         The walls of cavern lit then with a bright glow.  Shadows were cast everywhere, breaking over and around the stalagmites and stalactites of the cavern.  The ground beneath Schalkt's feet glowed as well.
         Schalkt felt the awareness then.  It was a passive thing.  Receiving it was similar to being stung, all over his body.  Pinpricks of power that made their way into his flesh and body.  The awareness filled his mind, but did not try to take control of him.
         At the same time Schalkt was both excited and frightened.  He had never experienced anything like this in his life and had never wanted to.  All he had wanted were simple things, nothing like this.
         Marsweena shielded her eyes as she saw the transformation of the boy take place.  His entire body began to glow, brighter than the cavern walls around them.  The shape of his body did not change, simply became bright.  There was fear and exhileration on his face at the same time.  Then dawning came over his bright features was understanding of what was going on and what had happened.  The awareness had reconciled itself with Schalkt's mind and Schalkt had reconciled himself to the awareness, to the answers it gave him, and the powers and responsibilities it had given him.
         "You must leave," Marsweena heard herself say.  "To set the planet back upon the original scheme of reality the awareness must be taken from it.  There are also those who would try to use you and the awareness for their own purposes."
         "But Mousey..." Schalkt whispered.  The sound of his voice was a chorus, even as a whisper.  The awareness was bending reality around Schalkt still.
         "Who is that?" Marsweena asked.  She still had to shield her eyes from him, the glow of his body was only continuing to become brighter.
         "I love her," Schalkt said.  The awareness had understood what it had done to the planet and was preparing to make its leave, whether Schalkt liked it or not.  There was not much time left.
         "I will look after her," Marsweena said.  "I will take her out of the mansion.  From this moment forth there is no need for the mansion.  Its purpose is finished."
         "What purpose?"
         "The Mansion on the Hill was how the awareness gathered candidates for its host.  Someone who did not simply walk through life in the same steps of others before them.  The people sentenced, born, and raised in the mansion were all possibilities for the awareness.  I was sent by my people to attempt a cummunion with the entity and to candidate as its host. You were the one it chose.  I would gladly trade with you if I could"
         The glow was starting to dim as the awareness took itself and Schalkt away.  The boy's frame folded in on itself and then was gone.  One last word came back from where he had gone.
         "Mousey."
         Marsweena nodded.  "I will look after her, Schalkt.  I swear."
 

         Above the planet a new star burst to life.  Upon the planet the city started to shrink, folding in on itself.  The repetitive loop that had caught the city, reflecting thousands of images of the original city itself, had been broken.  Lives that were only mirrors of lives faded out.
         Then the awareness left the space around the planet, fleeing into the distance, towards the stars.  Schalkt, its vessel, went with the entity willingly.

         "Mousey?" a purring woman's voice said over the figure of the young woman on the woven mat in the cubby hole.
         Mousey stirred and looked up at the alien.  There was no fear in her eyes, only a dim sense of loss.  Marsweena heard two heart beats from the girl.  There was another life growing within her.  This would be a doubly sad task.
         "I have much to tell you," Marsweena said.