The Riddle of the Labyrinth 30 - The power station

Still gently holding her small hand in his, Jareth lead Sarah away from the river Ergenad up a meandering pebbled path through a tranquil and humid part of the garden. Here those ferns grew so tightly together that it felt almost like walking under water as turquoise light filtered through the thick foliage oscillating and undulating with the waving greenery and keeping the temperature pleasantly moderate. In this bird less land the only thing heard was the wind and the occasional hooting of those little lizardians which Jareth referred to as Ubusnakettes. Fifteen minutes later they crossed a broad and brightly red-painted steel bridge carrying them over the moth. On the other side stood a set of closed iron gates, about four metres in height and nearly twice as wide. They looked resilient and proficient enough, Sara thought especially since there was a pair of sentries standing posed by the gates, carrying bardiches and holstered guns, dressed in cobalt uniforms which made Sarah envisage the Napoleon era. Tassels and gleaning brass buttons, more for show than for defence actually. But such was the case in London too. Funny hats seemed to be military chic everywhere.

Briskly, Jareth addressed the two youths at the gate and in response they saluted sharply, heels in shiny black boots slamming audibly together, before the shorter of the young men turned and opened up one of the gates.
"Should I order a car, your majesty?" the taller one offered, observably perplexed with the king leaving without his usual entourage.
"No, we'll be walking," Jareth replied, with a tug of his lips at the young men's befuddlement. "I plan to show this young lady a few things of importance."
"I understand," the youth nodded so that the scarlet plume of his triangular hat bobbed. "If Your Majesty change your mind, just call and we'll send a vehicle."
"I'll bring that to mind, thank you," the King returned with an almost paternal voice.

The next moment they began walking down a broad, eventful street, having soon mingled with the population of Labyrinth, no one looking twice at the king. The city people did probably not expect him to move around like a commoner, so they chose to not believe what they were seeing if they happened to think they recognized him. Or that was at least the conclusion Sarah made. She, in turn, was busy looking at the crowds, gawking at the dichotomies – which were wider even than in the multi-cultural London.

Here you got them all when it came to fairytale creatures and peculiar dress codes and even odder vehicles, all of them milling around just about everywhere. There were people looking like fairies and pixies in long, glittering and gossamer thin gowns, some of them even with moth-like wings. Sara spotted dwarves in pelt and bare torsos, sturdy centaurs, furry satyrs, daemons in skin-colours ranging from dark red over navy to black, most of them with horns but not all. She saw elves and gnomes, tall and slender, grayish humanoids with bald, elongated heads and sweeping hooded cloaks and people who appeared to be part cats, dogs, lions, foxes or even trees. Some had wings like bats or angels, other looked lizardians in green, scaled skin and quite a few had tails like foxes, cows, cats or even rabbit puffs.

In the streets there were people mounted on horses, unicorns or some feline creatures similar to leopards. Others rode chariots pulled by the same animals and others in turn were driving bike-like contraptions. Intermingling with these were cars looking like they ranged from all centuries on Earth and then some. All of them seemed to be constantly honking their horns.  

The houses were lined with shops selling everything from fast food over potions and pills, clothes and hats to machinery and works of art. Sarah saw books and cutlery, pots and kettles, musical instruments, toys, jewelry, watches and clocks, furniture and carpets, pipes and smoking gears, perfumes and shoes and weird-looking computers. There were trinkets displayed in windows and on stands she had no idea what use they served. She spotted a pet store selling all kinds of animals including creatures she had never seen before. Everywhere people were shopping - but not in the hushed and correct London way, but bartering and doling, jesting and jeering. There was a boy with pointy ears selling newspapers from a wooden box at the front of on his tricycle and an old woman with a monkey on her shoulder playing a strange keyboard instrument with the same blend of sounds as a large orchestra.

"This is the Porlanoto Avenue," Jareth told when she asked him. "One of the main streets running through Labyrinth, leading through almost the whole city." At this moment Sarah finally dared the question she had felt as indecorous for so long.
"Why is it called 'Labyrinth' by the way?"
"When we enter the stunted streets and narrow alleys you'll soon understand that, because it's easy to get lost in there. A lot of the city's population do actually come from elsewhere, but they ventured into the net of winding backstreets, got lost and finally gave in and settled. Now, let me show you!"

With those words, Jareth took her under her arm and they turned a corner, slipping away from the busy Porlanoto and into a silent side street lined with small townhouses with neat gardens up front, where cats rested on door steps. Sarah saw some trees carrying fruits while others were still blossoming, making her wondering which of them were out of season. They passed what appeared to be a school with children playing up front behind a low iron fence and a bakery emitting lovely fragrances of newly baked bread and pastries.
"You're not scared of getting lost here?" she asked as a fluffy blue dog came up to a gate and poked an elongated snot through the white-painted wooden fencing, staring at them with yellow eyes.
"Not at all," Jareth fired off his trademark tilted smile. "Not at all. I know this city better than my own walk-in closet."

Now, that one must be something to see, Sarah thought, taking in mind the way this man dressed.

"Who are you?" someone then asked, startling Sarah as she hadn't seen anyone – until she realized it was the dog addressing them.
"Just passers through," Jareth said and leaned over to pat the dog through the man-high gate.
"Good, because master is not at home, and he has ordered me to bite any intruders."
"Then lucky for you we are no intruders," Jareth shot back. "As we're both rather foul-tasting."

"Talking dogs!" Sarah said as soon as they were well without ear-shot. "You have a lot of them here?"
"A few, yes," Jareth replied. "Although I guess that was an enchanted human."
"Oh," Sarah felt herself pale. It sounded dreadful that someone might turn you into a dog. She wondered what might have caused anybody to bewitch that cobalt creature. But the moment she was about to ask Jareth, he turned another corner and they found themselves in front of a high, brown-bricked wall which was enclosing more or less the complete block, seemingly quite a large area. The large and durable-looking iron-enforced wooden gate was topped with razor-sharp barbed wires which curled down the sides and coiled themselves in each direction, topping the walls. Behind, Sarah spotted a worn and doomed gray building looking like an old church but without any religious headmarks.

Reaching inside of his jacket, Jareth brought out a huge keyring on a thick chain attached to his belt. He selected a large and ornate key and forced it inside of a lock, turned it three times and several clicks were heard as the lock was undone. The huge gate swung open on its hinges, revealing an inner courtyard laid with black and white cobblestones, which formed the image of a huge, contracting spiral, reminding Sarah of a Danish cake. On the other side of the 'cake' loomed the gray building which was even larger than what Sarah might have guessed when seeing it from the outside. Behind them the gate slammed shut with a profound clang.  

"What is this?" Sarah eyed the large structure, craning her neck to look upwards at the dome of mounted matte glass plates and the large clockwork beneath, which was just as bizarre as the clock in Jareth's dining room with its additional numbers and hands.
"The power station," Jareth said and lashed out with a glowed hand. "Come on! We're about to meet some special friends of mine." With that he started across the square without hesitation, however when Sarah followed him she was unable to take her eyes off the cobblestones. It seemed like the hypnotizing pattern in front of her was actually spinning, giving her the queasy impression of swaying to and from, fashioning a problem stepping on those clearly charmed stones, anxious she'd slip and fall. Then she tried closing her eyes and it suddenly became quite a bit easier to cross the courtyard and catch up with Jareth. With an exhaust of relief she finally trod off the ground and onto the granite steps leading up to the entrance portico.

"Those stones," she asked while Jareth was unlocking another door, this time to the huge building itself. "They appeared to be moving."
"Correct," the king nodded. "A convenient little system to keep intruders at bay. I should have warned you. In any case, we've been permitted entrance." Even though he may have chuckled lightly, Jareth took her hand and rubbed her back. Then he guided her inside an empty foyer quiescent in an austere dusk and where pale sunlight shone down in beams where grains of dust danced. High pillars carried vaults way up ahead of her and the walls were painted in an institutional gray. The old-building smell reminded her of libraries or old schools, or perhaps a courthouse and she almost expected a stern old janitor telling them off for trespassing.

Jareth steered the way up to a door leading inside the compartment of an old-style elevator, made out of dark wood and wrought brass, a stained mirror adorning one wall and a tiny lamp in the ceiling giving out a pale yellow light. Directing her inside, Jareth pressed a black button and as a response the coach shook and kicked in gear, beginning to move slowly downwards, shaking and rattling is it went. She clung to him as they began a gentle descent.  

They submerged what appeared to be several stores down until they were more or less entirely delimited by darkness. When they hit the ground and the gridded door clanked open, Jareth produced a lantern which gave off a cheery glow. By its light, Sarah could only just discern the path they took along rough concrete in what appeared to be some kind of maintenance tunnel. Above them ran huge piping from which emitted strange noises and sometimes rats or some other kinds of rodents scurried past. The passed steel doors emblazoned with yellow warning signs. The tunnel was claustrophobically narrow and in addition it was enshrouded by an unpleasant sulfuric redolent. Feeling slightly ill, Sarah pulled at the hood of her jacket, tucking parts of the textile across her nostrils and lips.

They went along this corridor for some five minutes until they came to a huge vault door. It was manufactured out of steel and looked solid and heavy. Next to it was mounted a console of some kind and Jareth walked over to it and pressed a few buttons. A soft bleep was heard, a tiny led switched from red to green and with a sucking sound the huge door fanned open and Jareth ushered his guest through.

Inside was a chamber blasted out of the rock and with the walls plastered with off-white spraycrete. Large, industrial-looking lamps hung from a ceiling way up in the air. But what took Sarah's breath away was the huge engine in the middle of the room. An impressive steam-run boiler with huge tanks from which ran conduits in all directions. From the engine a deep, thundering racketing was heard and here and there whirling smoke seeped out through chinks in the construction. Meters and indicators behind glass were trembling as the whole thing shook with contained power.

"Oh my!" Sarah gawked at the monstrous machine. "Is this a steam generator?"
"It's THE steam generator. Turbines and turbines powered by the purest of nuclear."
"Nuclear?" Sarah felt her eyes widen and Jareth laughed at her fearful expression.
"Don't worry," he smiled. "The power of the atom may be mighty beyond reason in our young universe, however contrary to the Chernobyl we know what we're doing here. Our engineers are the very best." Then he raised his voice. "Philalethes?!" he called out, his powerful tenor carrying even above the pervasive noise. "Philalethes, you there? You old dilettante, you have visitors!"

First nothing happened save for the power plant kept on going, drumming up its incessant thunderous beat. Then Sarah spotted movement at the end of the room, somebody turning a corner. The man coming towards them wearing a dirty laboratory coat looked like the epitome of 'mad professor' with snow white hair sprouting in all directions, silver-rimmed mezzaluna spectacles balancing on his hooked nose and hollow cheeks covered in stubble. His skin was almost sickly white from the lack of sun, yet with a yellowish undercurrent as if he could've been olive skinned in another, more outdoors-bound life. He was gaunt and bent, however his gait was manifest by a fast determination and his hands looked sinewy and strong.

"Milord," the elderly man greeted in a quiet voice. Sarah couldn't detect any emotion in his voice or restive face, but she saw a twinkle in his fudge-brown eyes. He embraced Jareth and the embrace was returned. As he detached from the hug he looked at Sarah with perusal, but the twinkle lingered.
"Philalethes, this is Sarah, daughter of Lady Julianne of Ursain." Jareth then introduced. "Sarah, this is Engineer Philalethes, the Atom Lord of Labyrinth City. The one responsible for keeping this city electrified and heated."

Sarah smiled nervously at the Atom Lord and was astounded when Philalethes bowed to her. Jareth was similarly confounded.
"Philalethes?" Jareth admonished.
"She must learn everything, ere she claims her status as the Chosen One. Or she will not live through this year of the great Enemy."
"Say what?" Sarah enquired while feeling her blood freeze. Then Jareth braced her before she could swoon.

"Now, now," came a husky voice, "I don't want any incidents on this girl's first visit." A woman of small stature dressed in an orange coverall with a utility belt filled with tools and gadgets entered from behind one of the large, vertically running steel pipes. She pushed up large goggles from her face and into her short-cut and tousled carroty hair and removed a cigarette from the corner of her lips, killing it against her sturdy leather shoe before throwing it in a waste basket a few yards away. To Sarah's surprise it hit right in the middle of it, this woman could've doubled as a basket-player if you'd thricemultiplied her height.

Then the tomboyish woman addressed Sarah directly.
"Please excuse the manners of the Old Engineer, and allow me to introduce myself. I am Trylain, the mechanic. Or the jack of all trades. Anything you want fixed when it comes to engines or equipment you come to me. Now, do forgive Philalethes his impertinence," she added with a grin, reaching out to pat Sarah on her arm. The latter could only nod. "So what brought you here, my King," she then turned to Jareth. "The main internet server broke down again? I told you to get a new one..."

"Trylain, I brought Sarah here for a brief introduction, yet I think we should be moving along," Jareth announced and Sarah noted something edgy to his voice which hadn't been there before.
"But you only just arrived," Philalethes pointed out, pushing out his lower lip in an almost childlike way.
"It was quite enough," Jareth replied, steering Sarah away from Trylain.
"Until next time," the jack of all trades called after their retreating figures, making a salute with two fingers against her forehead. Jareth only huffed and Sarah felt so embarrassed she wanted to sink through the floor.

Once outside, Jareth brought them all back the way they had come, not saying a word during their return. At the edge of the minute alley, he turned to Sarah and inquired after her health.
"Are you all right to continue this tour? I can tell you more about what Philalethes just said, but I'd prefer to keep moving. Over there is the Grand Market, and just beyond that is the office of the Main Court."
"Lead on," Sarah said, still too perplexed by the short exchange of words down in the nuclear power plant.

The Main Court was a large, gothic-looking building with broad stairs carrying up to a neoclassical portico with orange lanterns hanging from thick chains and a huge set of double doors. Topping the structure was a gilded cupola looking like something to be found on the domicile of an US political body. The market going on in front of the structure was a melee of stands with colourful textile tents, most of them striped or polka-dotted and surrounded by crowds of crowds of ever moving people, walking about in seemingly random directions as if the whole square was a huge and strange living and breathing organism.  

"Are you hungry?" Jareth enquired, nodding to a stand where they were selling barbeque sticks and roosted corns. It smelled lovely but Sarah couldn't bring up any appetite, she just shook her head. Taking her eyes of the food stand she turned yet again to her host, wording her question carefully.
"What was Philalethes referring to in there? What was this talk about the Chosen One? Am I marked for death?"
"It's a prophecy. And no, you won't die. I'll make sure of that my dear, don't you worry," Jareth reassured, catching Sarah's elbows while the two of them were still close, nearly brushing at chest and hip.

"But what was he talking about? This Alien?"
"Yes, he was."
"So there's another prophecy. Beside my father's, I mean?"
"Yes, there's one going around here. A prophecy of a savior, not unlike those that foreboded your Earthly Jesus Christ, but talking about a young woman. However it was not until today, down in the plant I was able to connect those two prophecies. You and the Alien."  

"So everyone knew and no one told me?" Sarah asked as she fought against the chilly tendrils of fear expanding bellicosely in her belly.
"Yes." Jareth wavered. He deliberated every possible reason for the inquiry. None of them pleased him.
"Even you?"
"Correct."