the lad spoke to his shoes. "I had to see the school nurse sir, she gave me this Antihistamine." He held up the packet. Satisfied with the reply, the teacher continued. "Well take your seat, and now all turn to page six two seven and read up on the useful properties of Carbon. I want a full page by the end of the lesson." Freddy whispered to Nigel, "this should be a doddle." Then they bent down to do the work.

  As they piled out into the corridor, Mr Chippingham placed his hand on Jenkins' shoulder and held him back. "A word Jenkins", but the two lads didn't hear what Mr Chippingham had to say.

  They had joined a group of girls, for a skipping game. Nigel had just begun to jump the rope held between Katy and Pru, while the two girls began the chant. "Who dropped a bomb on your old fella, Was it a ruski or was he yella, Want to be free, Don't want to be red, How many millions will be dead." Nigel got to ten before the rope caught his heel. Then one of the girls took a turn, and on it went until the bell rang for biology.

  As the boys entered the lab, boxes of dead rats and cockroaches greeted them. They were the only available test subjects for dissection. Then Mrs Cunliff split the class in to groups, to study the creatures. After they had filled in the work sheet, the teacher took in their efforts. Next she rotated the board to reveal a full set of notes. "Now class take down these notes. A full inch of soil must be removed before planting, and then covered to stop more fallout. A plastic sheet will suffice." And so she proceeded through the work. Until with full pages and reeling heads, the class exited for the final lesson of the day.

  Mr Plover held geography class. "Settle down class, today we will be studying neutron town and." But his speech was cut short, as a klaxon sounded at that very moment. Springing in to action he shouted. "Gas masks on and evacuate, children." Dutifully the class donned their US army assault masks. The M9AI with M11 canister attachment, and then filed from the room.

  In the clean air of the corridor, Freddy peered through the door's window at janitor John. The man was fixing the faulty air vent. The room would need a full decontamination. "Why aren’t you heading for the decontamination shower boy?" The master demanded, and scurrying off the lad shouted over his shoulder. "Sorry sir, I'm going now." Freddy was glad that the school day would end sooner than expected. Perhaps Nigel could come round, and they could play with his new pet.

  Angel on a plane

  Darren Fenestrate sipped his sparkling white wine, and tucked in to his peanuts. He tried to ignore the heavy snoring, coming from the man sat next to him. But this giant of a man drew Darren's attention, like a lodestone. From his greasy hair held back by a bandana, emblazoned with the word union. Through the denim jacket, studded with the phrase hell's angel. Darren had seen it when he sat down.

  The sleeping man unconsciously scratched at trunk-sized arms, festooned with tattoos. His stars and stripes tee shirt swelled, and sank again with each snore. Finally down to his rigger boots. He was mumbling in his sleep. Darren thought he caught the words. "Remember ye are brethren."

  Just then there was a commotion up front. Darren craned forward in his window seat, to get a better look. Then his world exploded, as the glass next to him frame and all, just blew out. Darren was sucked neatly through the hole. As his mind swam in the sudden rush of oxygen depletion, Darren spun in the air. He saw the plane he had so recently been on. Just explode before his eyes.

  If he had not been about to pass out, he may have blinked at the sudden blast of light. But as it was, he had a muddled view of the man who had slept next to him. Now floating a few feet from his face. Then he plummeted down, faster than he thought possible. There was a sudden rushing sensation, as twigs and branches flew up past him. Then Darren hit snow. He lay there for a minute or two. Then feeling no real pain, except the cold sensation now flowing through his back, he sat up. A quick check, and he confirmed his suspicions. He was entirely unharmed, so he set off for the lights down in the valley.

  That was how Darren got in the paper he was now reading. He was a hotel room, in the Little Nell at Aspen, courtesy of the Daily Planet. "Exclusive reporters of the man who fell to earth, and survived." The story continued. "D.Fenestrated from a plane, and lived. Mr Darren Fenestrate must be the luckiest man alive. Not only did he fall from a window, the process known as defenestration. He fell thirty six thousand feet to the ground, with out a parachute. And miraculously suffered no injury. But all this also happened seconds before a terrorist destroyed the jet.

  The North Korean liberation front fighter had been on the radio proclaiming about his bomb. He was about to detonate it in his cause. On the recording you could clearly hear the window blowing out, at the point Mr Fenestrate was sucked out. Followed by the terrorist detonating his device. Although Mr Fenestrate is unharmed, he is adamant that he saw the passenger who sat next to him outside the plane too. A hell's angel, but so far no evidence of his body has been found near where Mr Fenestrate clamed to have landed. Investigators are still searching the wreckage, where no other survivors have been found."

  There was a knock at the door, and putting the paper down Darren called out. "Is it room service? I ordered that sandwich half an hour ago.” But on opening the door he saw two suited men. "If you're Jehovah witnesses you can sling your hook. I gave blood last month." Not sure what to make of this, the taller one replied. “I don't think they believe in giving blood." With a quick check of himself, Darren came back. "Oh yes I was thinking of the latter day saints. So what do you want in that case?"

  The shorter one beamed. "We've come to wish you well. Your parents must be glad of your fortuitous escape from death." "Parent" corrected Darren. "My father was eaten by a tiger in Ealing, it had escaped from the zoo." The shorter man whispered to his friend. "The widows son." Darren was now into full remembrance continued. "All I got from him is this pendant he nicked from Sean Connery, when he made The man who would be king." He held up the small triangular piece of jewellery, it hung round his neck." "The symbol" gasped the taller man. "Now Mr Fenestrate, can you tell us about your mysterious angel?" They leaned in keen to revel in every word.

  "Please don't leave any detail out Mr Fenestrate." "Well as I told the paper he was a hells angel. He had a bandana on his head, I think it had union written on it." The taller man nodded, "do go on sir". Darren continued his recollection. "Yes he had a stars and stripes tee shirt and", the two men were on tenterhooks. "He mumbled remember ye are brethren just before the window blew out." The two men exchanged knowing looks, and simultaneously whispered. "George Washington." Then clasping his hand to his mouth, the taller one suddenly realised. "Angle on the plane", and they both turned wide-eyed to Darren. "Mr Fenestrate", the shorter man drew himself up to almost the shoulder of the other.

  "We are representatives of the Masonic world council." They both looked about furtively. "What I am about to divulge to you is in utmost security, very few people know about our existence." Darren laughed, “what, the Masons?” But the solemnness of the taller man quietened him. "No sir, the existence of a unified order that controls all the branches in the world. And you." he paused for effect. "Are the chosen one to lead our members in to greatness, as the new world order is brought in to fruition." Darren sat on his bed looking down. Then he turned to them. "You're sure your not Jehovah witnesses then?"

  The two men moved forward, and getting down on bended knees chanted. "We hail you oh mighty one, command us and we obey." Still sceptical, Darren waved a piece of toast he had just picked up. "O.K., if I'm your commander in thingy, you kick him round the room." To his amazed amusement the two began the bizarre act, which Darren called to a halt almost immediately.

  "O.K." he forced through tears of laughter. "Where are the rest of you? I can't go around commanding an army of two, they'd put me away. You, what's your name?" He pointed at the taller one who was rubbing his behind. “Robinson oh great one. You have about six million loyal supporters world wide, with over two million in America alone." Darren pondered this. "And I suppose these followers are well placed, no unclean
bums." "Oh no great one, all up right fine standing fellows to a man." Darren paced up and down muttering. "What to do with a well placed army, ready at my beck and call." Then he smiled, and turned to his two followers.

  "An idea, what I need is an idea. I'll phone mom." Darren strode over to the bed again, and was soon waiting for her to pick up. "She takes some time to get to the hall. It's in there", he explained. "Ah hello mom, I've got some gentlemen here. They say I'm the chosen leader of the world order of masons." His two followers winced. "Yes, six million, I know, hmm." He paused intent on the voice in his ear. Then he addressed Robinson, "what do you know about Oak Island?" The two men exchanged confused, looks then they had to admit. "We are unaware of such a place, but we can find out if your greatness commands it." "Then be off", decreed Darren. Then he turned back to the phone as the men scuttled off. "Yes they're looking in to it, did you read about my fall from a plane? No, well get a paper."

  The next day Darren welcomed in Robinson and his short friend Simon, with a new man. "Oh great one, this is Arthur Deodar. The records keeper of the Arkansas branch of our order." The slightly