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Alex continued to stare. He had expected something spartan, something one would feel was appropriate to a busker or maybe even something indicative of a typical teen. What confronted him however, was a large room, almost opulent in its decorations. Alex couldn't place many of the decorations; they certainly weren't English or American. They weren't of any origin he recognized. The room was finished in reds and purples, colours he didn't, as a rule, even like, but here they worked well. There were red curtains containing inlaid jewels covering the walls in places. There was a four-poster bed covered in a purple velvet bedspread interwoven with gold threads. The chairs were old and wooden, and reminded Alex of some type of a medieval style. The floor was covered with Persian-style rugs, yet the designs were clearly different patterns than were normally seen. The furniture was of unidentifiable Eastern European origins, and yet it almost, but not quite, looked like something that a Viking might have made: it was dark, heavy wood, with coarse carvings. Alex wasn't an expert in furniture but it certainly looked like the room was decorated with a wide range of furniture representing a very long timeline.

There was some sort of incense burning. Alex caught the scent of it as he continued to look around. Each time he scanned the room, he noticed something different. The delicate marble top on the nightstand, the intricate bejewelled decanter on the mantel, and even the columns that flanked the fireplace for that matter were lacking in subtlety. Alex continued to stare while Nicky just sat on the edge of his bed and watched Alex.

"Wow," Alex finally said, amazed at everything he was seeing. "Nice place. Amazing place. Palatial place. You could be Prince Nikolai, ruler of the underground," Alex said jokingly. Nicky made a very odd face, and Alex suddenly felt very uncomfortable, very out of place. He felt that way often, so this wasn't unusual by itself. He felt as if he was in a situation over which he had no control. A sinking feeling began to overwhelm him.

"It's not much, but it's home," said Nicky absently.

"Not much? You're kidding! You could call it 'The Red Palace' or something. It's fucking amazing. You must be loaded." Alex stopped himself, realizing his faux pas. "Um, sorry. That was rude."

"You probably have a lot of questions," replied Nicky, ignoring Alex's comments. "I can answer many of them, but I'm going to warn you the answers may end up leading you to more questions. I don't want to lie to you, so I may not even answer some of your questions at all." Nicky absently picked up his flute from the felt covered table and gently rubbed the well-worn wooden shaft. He'd had it as long as he could remember and took it with him almost everywhere he went. The flute was heavy and felt good in his hands. He put it to his lips and played a snippet of a Beatles tune without even thinking. Alex knew the song well and the words echoed silently inside his head as Nicky played.

"Thanks. I just have this need to play sometimes. It's not the money, you know, because I'd do it for free. The money is just something people throw for appreciation. I'll just get a tune in my head, pick up the flute and start to play. It seems that the more I play, the better the flute sounds. It's like a fine wine, and gets better with age. 'Cor I guess I should quit stalling and get to the part where you ask your questions 'cos if I don't I'll put it off forever."

"I guess," said Alex, the apprehensiveness welling up in him. He wanted to do this and still he didn't. He vacillated rapidly. The famed and cliched moment of truth was upon him. "I must admit, I don't know where to begin. Why am I here? I don't mean the simple answer, I mean why did you want me here?"

"Bollocks, you don't start with the easy ones do you? I can answer that, butit's a difficult thing you want me to answer. Though after my fine speech, I guess I shouldn't hold out now," Nicky said with an unhappy smile on his face.

"You don't have to answer. I'm here of my own free will. I don't know why I came, but I felt like I needed to."

"'Cor, there you go again. You're a smart one, you know that? Well, since you've said that, let's start there. You said you felt like you needed to come. Did you ever wonder where that feeling came from? I'll bet you've had a feeling like that before. Many people do. Most of them, though, are afraid to follow their feelings. They stop, think about it, and then it's too late, the moment passes."

"I know what you mean, but I don't follow what that has to do with my question."

"Right, then. Have some patience, will you? It's not exactly easy on me telling you this. Anyway, I've had these feelings on and off my whole life. I sometimes follow them and sometimes I question them. When I first saw you, I got a strong feeling that I had to know you. It was more intense than I've ever felt before. It was as if all of a sudden I knew you had to be part of my life. I realize this probably sounds pathetic to you because, frankly, it sounds sort of pathetic to me too. I don't usually follow through on these types of feelings, but it was so strong and undeniable, I had to figure out how to meet you. So I spent a good portion of the past few days following you about, trying to work up enough courage to interact with you in some way. It took awhile before I got it, and when I did I messed it up terribly. I don't really have any friends, not close ones anyway. I never thought I had use for them."

"Well, we have that in common. I mean about the friends. I don't have many either. Well I have one, I suppose. But I'd honestly have to say I did want them. I just didn't know what to do to get them. So after a few failed efforts, I pretty much gave up." Alex wanted to say more, to say how he felt, but he felt stupid enough saying this much. He wasn't in the habit of opening up to strangers, but here he was. He'd already said too much. He was surprised Nicky hadn't run him out already.

Nicky struggled. There was so much more he wanted to say, but he'd already messed things up and he wanted to try to fix things. If he said too much he'd drive Alex away. He didn't want that. "Now that you're here, I don't even know how to say what I want to say."

"I think I've got the point. You keep saying that," said Alex, feeling a bit frustrated.

There was more uncomfortable silence. Alex broke it first. "I can't take it anymore, Nicky. This isn't necessary. We can just take things naturally. Why are we trying to force things to go somewhere? We don't even know where somewhere is. At least I don't. Yeah, I think it's a bit weird, but fuck it. Part of me really thinks this is the right thing to do. So I'm here even though you haven't really told me anything." Had Alex stopped to reflect, he'd have realized it was the longest speech he'd ever given from his heart.

Nicky got a silly little grin on his face. He picked up his flute and absently played a melody Alex thought he recognized as a classical piece, but he couldn't quite place it. Alex was sitting next to Nicky on the bed, their feet dangling side-by-side off the edge. Alex laid back and drifted slowly into sleep with the music ringing in his head. Not long after, Nicky lay down his flute and also dozed off.

Alex woke with a start to the sound of a loud knocking at the door to Nicky's room. Nicky jumped out of bed and went to answer the door. Alex wondered to himself, how did I ever get any sleep with Nicky sleeping just inches from me? I'll never know how, but I did. I slept like a rock. A strange saying that. Just how do rocks sleep?

Nicky closed the door and came back. Alex began thinking to himself. What did I just say to myself? What the fuck is going on? "Nicky, I have to go," pleaded Alex.

"What's wrong? You were fine before your nap. Did you have a nightmare or something? Dreams aren't usually real. Just relax. You'll be fine," Nicky told Alex.

"No, it's nothing," Alex lied. "I've just decided I've got to go home."

"Why are you lying to me? You're a really bad liar. Did you know that? Your brow furrows up tightly when you lie. If you want to go, go you shall, but please tell me what's wrong."

"You want the truth? OK, I'm having all these emotions and feelings I've never had before. I can't handle it. I'm going back to my normal life, such as it is. I'm going to forget this trip ever happened. I'm sorry." Alex felt so miserable and he wanted someone to turn to, but there was no one. He wanted to explain what he was really feeling in words that would make sense, but he didn't even know how to articulate it. And, if he did know how, he didn't know anyone who would care. That was the price of being a loner.

"So be it," said Nicky with a crushed look on his face. "I really wanted to show you this world and maybe make you part of it. You really belong here. If you didn't, you could never have come here. You never could have even found Lord's station."

Nicky paused before continuing, "I want to be your friend so badly, I'd do anything to make it happen." Nicky didn't mean to say it out loud, but it was done and it was the truth. Nicky sighed. He looked like he was fighting back tears. "Alex, do you want to have dinner with us before you go?"

Why the hell do I always get into these situations? I don't need this kind of complexity in my life. I'm a fucking teenager, and I feel 60 years old already. Life isn't fair. "Yeah, ok. I'll stay for dinner," retorted Alex with a bit of anger and resentment becoming evident in his voice.

Nicky perked up immediately. "Great! I'll take you to the meal and after that we'll get you to the airport." Nicky secretly hoped Alex would change his mind.

Nicky resumed playing his flute for awhile longer and Alex listened whilst deeply engrossed in his own thoughts. He finally stopped, and just sat in silence.

"Nicky, how do you survive down here? There are no stores, no movie theatres, no hospitals, no grocery stores, nothing. I saw corridors, a few of these apartment thingies," said Alex while gesturing around him, "but there's no evidence you're self-sufficient."

"Well that's a very complex answer. I can tell you some of it now. There are stores here where you can buy things. They're all at much lower levels than this. The upper levels are all hallways, passageways, corridors, and very little besides the royal meeting rooms, guard rooms, and the royal apartments. If we did get an intruder there's not much to be found. As you get lower you will find a few small shopping districts, schools, restaurants, and even churches. They're cut into the tunnels just like the shops in the tube stations."

Alex was having trouble comprehending the vast society Nicky described. "How many people do you have? What happens when they get sick?"

"We have hospitals as well. They're at the very lowest levels. It's also where our bodies are cremated after death. As to our population, it's rapidly shrinking since we don't mingle with the people above. I don't know the exact number, but perhaps a few thousand."

"Medicines, supplies, and such, -- how do you pay for them?" asked Alex still having trouble believing the story. At some level Alex believed Nicky, but on another level it was far too outlandish to be true.

"Money, pounds sterling, just like above. There are many of our people who work above. Nearly every pub above is owned by one of our kind; a percentage of their money is sent down to the royal treasury. Others work as tailors, booksellers, nurses, and more. We're fully integrated above except in areas such as police work where there are extensive background checks. Really, except for the lack of technology down here, you'd never know the difference."

"There's no sun, rain, or weather?"

"Yes, true. We have artificial sun rooms where people can go if they're not allowed above. But really, it's such a minor thing. Our world is fundamentally like your world. This isn't a world out of some science fiction novel."

Alex thought it was. But as he thought about it, the only two things he couldn't explain away were the shift in time and the tube access to Lord's station. He thought that, perhaps, if he considered it enough he'd be able to explain those as well. He decided he'd ask Nicky about it but just before he began to speak, Nicky shouted.

"Oh, shit! We're late. Come on! It's time to go to the dining hall. We're barely going to make it. Hurry, grab your things in case we don't have time to come back." Nicky headed towards the door, waiting for Alex.

They walked quickly down a few corridors. Alex felt foolish carrying his luggage, but Nicky had insisted so they wouldn't be late to the airport after dinner. They came to a large, ornate door that was twice as tall as any other door in this area.

"What is this place?" asked Alex.

"It's the dining hall. Come on," said Nicky leading the way. The door swung open easily.

As they entered, Alex put his luggage just inside the door so he could get it on the way back out. Nicky had called it a dining hall, but Alex thought it was more like a banquet hall from an Arthurian legend. He supposed it was somehow appropriate, since after all, this was England, but he still didn't know what to make of this whole situation. He was beginning to feel calmer about his unexpected thoughts from earlier, and thought he might change his mind yet again. Of course if he did, Nicky would think him a flake. After all they were his thoughts. Nobody knew them, heard them, or felt them. And, more importantly, that meant nobody could hate him for what he felt or thought.

Nicky led him to a table towards what appeared to be the front of the room. They sat down at the first of four extremely large tables that reminded Alex of enormous picnic tables. Their table was on a platform, making it a few inches taller and thus it overlooked the other three vast tables. Behind the four tables were many smaller round ones. Other people were filing in and finding their seats. Apparently this really was a banquet hall because off in the wings there were people who were clearly servers. The room was lit with torches and candles, but because of the vast, cavernous ceilings it seemed very dark. The dark wood furniture didn't help the situation. It was decidedly gloomy, thought Alex. Though by the mood of the people here, it was apparent they didn't think so.

There were perhaps sixty people here at this point and then the doors swung shut with a loud thud. Simultaneously, two heralds stepped forth from the wings. One came in from the left and another from the right in a symmetrical, well rehearsed routine. They presented their trumpets in unison and sounded a nine note sequence. Alex thought this was odd -- almost right out of the past. At the flourish, everyone stood immediately. Alex hastily got up when Nicky nudged him.

"His Royal and most Exalted Majesty, King Mikhail Vonamoor," announced the herald, as the King came in from behind the large curtain on the back wall to thunderous applause. Alex thought the King looked suspiciously like Nicky in some ways, but dismissed the thought as silly. Alex took note of the King's robes, which looked, he thought, much like those of any king or queen. They were red and purple velvet with fur trimming on the collars and cuffs. There were jewels attached to every conceivable part of the robe and metallic fibres interwoven everywhere. The only conspicuous item missing was a crown.

The King approached the table where Alex and Nicky were, and took a seat at the centre of the table. He sat and spoke, "We hereby commence this feast." With that, everyone sat down and the usual noises of a large dinner party began. Alex noted a thick, heavy accent in the King's voice that was absent in Nicky's.

"Good evening, Nicky," said the King.

"Good evening, Father," said Nicky in reply.

Alex just sat there with his mouth open like a slack-jawed idiot.

"Nicky, who is your friend with the mouth stuck in the wide open position?" inquired the King good-naturedly.

"An outsider. He's my friend."

The King's expression grew dark and all trace of good humour left his countenance. "Nicky, we don't allow outsiders here. Ever. You know that and yet this is not the first time you've broken this law. What are we going to do with you? This is very serious. You know the consequences."

"Father, he was drawn to the music. He's safe. Trust me. Please?"

"Very well then, we shall discuss it later. You haven't been wrong before on this. We shall allow it for the nonce."

Alex sat there, with the stupid expression still frozen on his face. Nicky looked over at Alex and began to giggle uncontrollably. Alex finally realized he was the object of some amusement, and he managed to shut his mouth a bit and sat up straighter in a futile effort to maintain what little was left of his dignity.

Alex continued sitting in silence, thoughts racing about in his head, as the servers began to bring the food in. The savoury aromas quickly permeated the hall. The food was normal enough, which surprised Alex. It was similar to standard English pub fare albeit with thicker, richer sauces. The simplicity of it all surprised Alex, though as he thought about it, he realized it was consistent to what he'd seen so far. There were roast meats, from pheasant to beef to Cornish hens. There were vegetables including peas, aubergine, and the inevitable chips. Dessert, when it came much later, was no surprise. The rather tasty, but amusingly named, spotted dick caused Alex to crack a smile as soon as he saw it. There were trifles, puddings, and more.

Finally he spoke, "Nicky, don't you think that your being a prince was a detail you might have wanted to mention to someone, as it seems to be a bit important to who you are?"

"No, I wanted to see if you and I were going to get along as people. Once you knew who I was, I couldn't be sure of why you liked me. I had to know if we'd be friends before I told you."

"Are you even sure I like you? How do you know? I've not told you," Alex commented petulantly.

"I am sure now," insisted Nicky, not noticing Alex's tone.

"I'd like to know how you're so sure, but I realize now isn't the time to discuss it." Alex deftly changed the subject before it strayed into uncomfortable territory. "Do you always eat like this? It's so, um, formal," he continued. Alex spent most of the meal worrying he'd drip sauce on the fine silk tablecloth. He was nearly terrified to use the napkin, being sure it must have cost a fortune.

"No, this is a very special banquet. It's my sixteenth birthday today. This is my birthday party, my coming-of-age party, and all that good stuff. I am, so they say, a man today."

"That's right. My son becomes a man today," interjected the King. "He will be feted, and then he shall be given a deed to perform, to prove he is worthy to inherit the throne." Nicky sulked in silence at the mention of his deed.

Alex sat in awe of the opulent feast taking place about him, all the while wondering about the mysterious deed Nicky had to perform. There were musicians, dancers, and food enough for an army. The fete dragged on well into the night.

Nicky interacted with the few people who dared approach the King's table. Alex sat in silence, observing the events taking place around him. He wanted to talk, but he felt out of place, and clearly Nicky was busy with his guests.

Alex and Nicky were not excused until late that night. They went, in silence, back to Nicky's room, Alex dragging his luggage with him. Alex knew it was now too late to go to the airport, and it meant he'd be spending the night.