THE FERAL BOY Part one of INITIATION Thanks to JP for Betaing Standard Disclaimers -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The tow headed boy jumped up from where he was industriously slashing the tyres of the Managers car and legged it down the street. Sure enough the Manager of the market came out of the door, Accompanied by his aide, a man whom the youth knew had long legs. ..And a hard whip hand. The boy had been caught stealing from the market stalls the month before. He had been caught and handed over to the ungentle hands of the Manager and his whip happy aide. This had not endeared them to him. The Manager inspected his deflated car with sadness. (One of only a few such vehicles in Wulvatown.) That dammable brat. The Manager growled. He knew who the culprit was, of course. Im going to have a word with the Governor about him. Said the aide optimistically. The Manager stared at his lackey, Oh, `she` wont take any notice, she lets him run wild. ----------------------------------------------------------- And indeed, `Tar ran very wild. He was a scrawny dirty urchin, dressed in rags, with unkempt blonde (at least it was blonde when clean) hair and hard blue eyes. He was always in some trouble or other. `Tar mostly lived with his father. His father had a one room hut in the most unsalubrious part of town. His wife had put him there, also given him the job of butchering livestock. This was regarded as unclean, and so Gelruk was unwelcome in the better parts of town. `Tar regarded his Father as very put upon. You never stick up for yourself, do you? He told his father as they bedded down for the night. You dont know your mother, replied Gelruk. Normally he was silent. Tomrys had forbidden him to talk. But when alone with his son he would speak, sometimes. Youre a wimp, dad. `Tar snuggled under the sheepskin quilt. Hush. Gelruk cuddled him. `Tar accepted this for an answer; his mother and evil twin never gave him much attention. Gelruk did. When sober. Gelruk did like his drink. But today Gelruk was not available. No, I don't know where your father is. Said the head of the slaughterhouse, `Tar had hammered on the door of the hut for a while, perhaps his father was sleeping off his drinking. He had given up and gone poking round the pens. The man in charge of the butchering had chased him off; `Tar had stolen off him before. `Tar cursed him and his ancestors in the worse way he knew. You shut your foul mouth before I slap you. The man growled. `Tar was very rude. I don't know where your drunkard father is. Tar spat on the ground and sauntered off. Agreed the Voice. Bored and hungry, `Tar went to see his mother. His mother was the governor of the town. She lived in a spacious villa by the river. It was a proper stone built villa, rare in a land where many of the inhabitants were nomads who never stayed long in town. The settlement had grown up by a bridge that had survived the Fall; it was a trading station for the nomads of the plains and mountains. They came into town with their massed herds of riding deer, camelids, gorals and shoats, to trade for goods they did not make themselves, it was an exciting place to grow up in, `Tar had decided, he had been on journeys with the nomads and found their life very tedious. `Tar always had returned home. Even to his Mothers. ---------------------- `Tar did not want to run the gauntlet of the gatekeeper, so he climbed over the wall. First of all he scanned around for his mothers pet hyenas that were sometimes let loose in the garden. Instead he met Mala. Mala was `Tars evil twin. Not to mention mothers spoiled darling. Mala was a GIRL. Mala wanted to play with him. Mala had her gang with her. (Miraculously not shot with air rifle, stabbed, or bitten by hyenas.) `Tar had to play with Mala and gang. Why hello, sis, said `Tar innocently. The girls ranged round him, broken down air rifles, catapults and sticks in hand. Heres one of the enemy, lets kill him. Said one. Playing militia was a favourite game of Mala's. `Tar hoped that none of those air rifles were working or the girls had been able to scrounge any pellets. He held up his hands. You surrender? Asked Mala who would rather have shot her brother `dead` Yes! `Tar was not in a mood to fight, or run. Too many times he had had to have pellets dug out of his back. The girl behind Mala giggled nastily. They had all heard tales of the Governors conquests and what she did to captives. All I came for was some food! Protested `Tar. We dont feed POWs who complain. Said one of Malas evil little friends I dont want to be a POW anymore. Another hit him with a stick. Oww, cant we play slave markets? Im a good POW and I think you ought to sell me as a slave. `Tar suggested. One of Mala's worst girls glared at him. Youre not worth anything; best torture him to death. Id make a very good slave. `Tar looked at Mala, trying to judge her mood. Why don't you take me to the kitchens and sell me? The girls paused. If the cook was in a good mood they would get cakes in return for rounding up a washer upper. He's a drunkard like his dad! No Im not. Protested `Tar who though he had tried his fathers kourmiss to the point of a hangover, knew better than to be as bad as Gelruk. Mala's gang disagreed and tried to beat `Tar up instead. `Tar was at a distinct disadvantage in the fight. His hands were tied, and all he could do was take a foetal position and pray to his ancestors. ZOLTAR!! Bellowed a depressingly familiar voice. It was an Ancestor. Mother? `Tar whimpered from the bottom of the scrum. Did you start this? No. Always when you play with Malas friends a fight breaks out. You are a bad influence. Tar decided not to remind her that Mala needed no help from him to cause a riot. A body moved aside and `Tar found himself looking up at his Mother. Governor Tomrys Latroise was a tall woman with blonde hair and oddly piecing blue eyes. She pulled `Tar out from under the bodies of Mala's friends with one sturdy hand. I have a small job for you. ------------------------------------------------ The furnace was very big and needed cleaning out periodically. By some misdesign it had a small access hatch, one which only `Tars thin frame could fit though. Furnace cleaning was a particularly nasty job and one that fell to whichever of Tomrys offspring was in trouble at the time. Four fifths of the time that was `Tar. He wearily stripped off his ragged clothing, and climbed up to the top of the furnace. His mother handed him the brush, and he lowered himself though the hatch. Which was promptly shut and bolted upon him. `Tar sighed in the stygian gloom of his prison. He could breathe; it was his task to brush away the soot and out the ash hatch at the bottom. Nor was the massive wood hungry (chopped by Guess who?) device cramped. There was no light though. `Tar settled down in the ashes and went to sleep. ----------------------------------------------- `Tar awoke to a horrid cacophony. There was a banging on the outside of the furnace. `Tar jumped up. Stop that. Malas evil laugh came though more bangs. She had found a hammer and was putting it to good use. `Tar put his hands over his ears. Mala! He cried in real anguish. The banging stopped. Give me that. Growled Tomrys. The noise had disturbed the entire house. Aww, I was having fun. Leave your brother alone while hes working. Silence. I hope youre nearly done. Tomrys addressed the furnace. Yes mother. `Tar began finally to brush. ----------------------------------------------- Presently the hatch was unbolted; `Tar screwed his eyes up at the light. Its only me, said Mala. Ive brought you food and water. Thank you. Im sorry I was mean to you earlier. I couldnt resist it. `Tar did not say anything to this; It was Malas excuse for everything, such as setting up a door trap of paint for Gelruk on one of his rare visits, or letting the hyenas loose. Mums mad at me. Im spending the night in the cellar. `Tar decided not to comment. He knew that the cellar, cold and dark though it was a much better place of incarceration than his metal prison. There would be bedding, and a light. Will you tell our Mother that I have finished? Mala nodded. First she climbed up and unbolted the offending hatch. By the time Tomrys arrived `Tar had climbed out. He stood there, naked, grey with ashes, while his demanding mother inspected the furnace with a torch. Tolerable, sniffed Tomrys. Now get out to the pump. `Tar decided not to argue at that. A kitchen slave pumped water all over a shivering but thankful `Tar while a smirking Mala watched. I've not finished with you yet. Tomrys came out of the kitchen with a towel; youre going in the bath with Mala. Mala glared at this but her look was wasted up

Poo, so that one loaded even though it was too long! Been working on this some months, funnily its not the metaphysical bits that stumped me, but the ordinary scenes. (Yes, I nicked the metaphysical bits from other places...) This is a BOTP fic in case you wanted Gatchaman...Hard luck!

Wow, with almost no canon to work with, you've created a detailed and believable childhood for Zoltar that explains so much about who he becomes.

Very interesting! I love the idea of the voice in Zoltar's head controlling his life and making him who he is. And the implication that Zoltar's mother is involved... perhaps something in the genetic line? Are you going to continue this?

Im glad you like it. there are four more parts; the second needs fettling; I will do this ASAP Three and four are done, so they will follow soon after, but the last is unfinished and I dont know how it ends.

Originally posted by Tengu Im glad you like it. there are four more parts; the second needs fettling; I will do this ASAP Three and four are done, so they will follow soon after, but the last is unfinished and I dont know how it ends.

Fettling? I'll admit that sent this North American straight to the dictionary. Reminds me of the time I first encountered "shambolic" (reading James Herriot). I look forward to reading the other parts!