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(The historical bit about Scotland Yard was courteously provided by the London Metropolitan Police whom you can find at http://www.met.police.uk/)

"So, Nicky, what is this big task that'll be set out for you?"

"I was afraid it was going to come around to that."

"I don't follow. You were afraid I was going to ask, or afraid of what the task might be?"

"Yes, to both, but mostly the first one. I think this may be the real test."

"Test?" inquired Alex with a perplexed expression. "Test of what?"

"Well, I'm going to tell you. I wasn't going to tell you the whole truth, but if we're going to be friends for the long haul, and I hope we are, a lie, or even a partial truth won't work. But this isn't going to be easy on me. Not easy at all."

"Spill it. You've got me curious now. I'm curious about your whole world down here, but I don't even know where to begin. At some point we're going to have to discuss it, but I think right now it would be totally overwhelming."

"Right, then. But a condition first. It's easy. When I'm done, no matter how repulsed you are, and how much you want to run screaming away, you can't. When I'm done, if you really want to go, just tell me and I will escort you safely out," said Nicky emphasizing the word safely carefully so Alex would understand the consequences of leaving in a hurry without an escort.

"OK, I'll do that. I promise."

"I will, quite probably, have to kill someone."

"You have to what someone?" shot Alex with a clearly bewildered tone to his voice.

"Kill. You know, murder. As in, end the life of."

"I'm sorry but I don't know if I believe you, and, even if I believe you, I certainly don't follow you. I mean, if you told me you were an elf, I'd believe you ‹ you have the look. Aren't elves supposed to go on a quest and kill dragons or something?" asked Alex, clearly irritated.

Nicky sighed. That isn't the reaction I expected, but I don't know if that's good or bad. "'Cor, you don't make it easy on a guy, that's for sure. Look, maybe you have this preconceived notion of a fantasy world, probably from reading Tolkien. There isn't anything wrong with that, but that isn't how it is. That's fiction. Life isn't fiction."

Nicky paused to collect his thoughts and then continued, "Damn, you make this hard on a bloke. You've got part of it right; you might say I'm what you'd call an elf, but dragons are just fantasy. So is most magic. But, for me to become an adult, I have to eliminate someone who is an enemy to my people. It doesn't mean I like the idea, or want to kill someone, but I have to. That's how it's been since the dawn of our time."

"You don't have to do anything. Refuse to kill the person," said Alex trying to use logic to reason with Nicky.

"If I refuse, I'll be killed by my own father. It is the king's duty to kill the heir-child if he doesn't perform his assigned deed within the allotted period of time, or immediately if he refuses the task. It's kill or be killed," said Nicky the stress clear in his voice.

Alex thought for a moment and then asked, "Didn't you say eliminate? Do you have to kill them?"

"I suppose not, but I don't know of any case where there was any way to eliminate someone without killing them. However, on a technicality, I suppose you are correct."

"Then leave. Come up top, or whatever it is you say."

"This is my world and I belong here. Permanent exile doesn't appeal to me much more than murder. I've tried to rationalize it. You must understand I still haven't been told who I must eliminate, where they live, what they've done, or anything. Besides, I'm not particularly nice to most people. While I am not looking forward to doing it and I don't like the idea, I never said I hated the idea."

Alex sat there in silence, visibly upset, and feeling alone.

"You aren't saying anything," observed Nicky somewhat stupidly.

Alex continued to sit in silence, his thoughts racing about inside his head. He was confused. He sat there left hand on his lap, while his right hand went back up to his chest. Alex don't know why he did that when he was confused and feeling lonely, but for as long as he could remember, he always had his right arm across his chest, pressing, hugging his own chest, as if it was helping to relieve a vast loneliness that lay at the core of his being. You could definitely feel alone even when there were other people. Alex knew that for a certainty.

"Listen, Alex. The silence isn't helping. Let me be straight up with you and try and explain why I told you that. You know I could have made up any sort of lie, and you'd have believed it."

Nicky took a deep breath and continued, "In life, you get to choose whom you want to be friends with from among the many people you will meet. Lots of people are going to pass through your life. Hang on to the good ones. It can take a little work, but it's worth it. Once you make that connection, it's hard to break. The best thing in my life is that I never lost a friend to anger. Yeah, some people move away and some have died, but even the ones that moved keep in touch and we still feel like friends. It's a great feeling -- like having little bits of you all over the place. This is hard for me. I've not had many friends in my life, but I really value the ones I have."

Nicky paused and added, "Alex, that's sort of how I envisioned us when we first met. "

"Don't talk to me about friends, Nicky. The idea of having a best friend is wonderful to me. It's kind of hard to describe the difference between a good friend and your best friend. It's sort of all inside my head. Your good friends know what and who you liked and didn't like, and why. They know about your favourite stuff, like food, books, types of movies, or even TV shows. One friend or another would do stuff they don't really like just because everyone else wanted to. That's good friends. As best friends, there is a deeper level of feeling ... of sensing things, knowing things, and not having to decide things verbally. You can feel each other's needs most of the time and just know exactly what it would take to break a bad mood or something like that, or even to share a bad mood. Yet, it's still more than that. But, the thing is, just saying that is what you want, doesn't make it so. You have to work at it. I'm not sure if I'm agreeing with you, or disagreeing with you. This whole thing is very uncomfortable. I just don't know what to do. Still, I do want to be your friend. This is weird because I just don't talk about these things. I don't even try to think about them too often." It was, perhaps, the longest speech Alex had ever given in his life. "Now here you come, waltzing into my life. Then you lay all this shit on me. It's fantastical, and yet here I am so I can't dispute it. It takes awhile to assimilate it, digest it, and deal with it. Yet, in spite of it all, I'm still here. With you."

Nicky finally spoke after another extended silence. "We have two problems. You are a wanted man, so to speak. That problem won't go away until you turn up. The second problem is my so-called task, which I will find out about soon, probably this evening."

Nicky and Alex sat there, still facing each other in their chairs. Finally, getting uncomfortable in the chair, Alex moved over to the sofa. Millions of thoughts swirled about in his head like stars in an infinite number of galaxies. He tried to isolate them down to a few coherent thoughts. He was not successful.

Finally the summons came for Nicky to appear before the king. With great reluctance Nicky got dressed, putting on a formal outfit. Alex turned, facing the wall while Nicky got dressed. He was uncomfortable staying here while Nicky got ready, yet he had nowhere to go.

After perhaps twenty minutes, Nicky spoke, "I'm ready. You can follow me to the audience chamber, but you can't come in. I know a relatively secret place that not many know about; you can eavesdrop from there," said Nicky with a conspiratorial grin..

Alex, a creature of habit, grabbed his things as they went out the door. Halfway down the corridor Nicky noticed Alex had them. "What are you bringing them for?"

"I dunno, habit, I guess. I can take it back."

"We haven't the time."

After an extended bit of hurried walking, Nicky pointed Alex to a small doorway. "That's a closet where we keep spare braces and accessories for torches and such. It's cramped and smells pretty horrid. However the wall is thin and if you lean on the far left wall, you can hear the echoes of any conversation that takes place. Say nothing of what you hear. I'm putting my trust in you as a gesture of whatever our future may hold."

"I don't know what to say," said Alex.

"Try 'Thank You'," said Nicky as he turned to leave. "Oh, and one other thing. This emergency corridor goes right up to Lord's station. It's very not usually very busy, but make sure you utter not a word or sound. It wouldn't do if someone heard." Then Nicky was off at a trot for his audience.

Alex began situating himself as he tried to listen and heard sounds of muttering but nothing particularly clear. They must be talking among themselves he thought to himself. Suddenly there was a trumpeting sound. He heard a herald announce Nicky.

"I present myself for my duty, Sire," said a muffled voice which was Nicky's.

"The Aspirant may rise," said a voice which Alex recognized as the King.

"By your leave, your Grace, I am here to accept the duty as prescribed by all of our ancestors back to the beginning."

"After consultation with the council of Lords, we have made our decision." Alex heard murmuring, indicating an audience of considerable size.

The King continued as the murmuring died down. "Since the Beginning, our folk have always strived to live peacefully among those who live Above. And, for the most part, we have succeeded. Sometimes we have a difficulty with an outsider, and it is put to rest quickly. It has been over a full score of millenniums since an outsider has seen us in our own halls, and known these halls for what they are. We are sad to report that our son Nikolai has brought that upon us again." A dissatisfied roar manifested itself.

"SILENCE! I WILL HAVE SILENCE," commanded the King angrily. The crowd grew silent quickly. "Thus, Nikolai, you are given the task of eliminating the threat you introduced. You are given three days to carry out this task. We are given to understand he is still with you. See that he does not return up top and see you finish your task quickly and efficiently."

"I can't kill him! He's my friend," wailed Nicky. And a very good friend, he thought silently.

"I am the King. You shall not tell us what you can or cannot do. I command and you follow. So shall it be written. So shall it be done!"

"So shall it be written. So shall it be done!" intoned the crowd.

"As the King commands," said Nicky.

Alex was in a panic. Jesus Fucking Christ. He's going to kill me. What was I thinking? I've got to get out of here. I just have to. A fucking loon who's going to kill me, and I came here willingly. I deserve this. Fuck, shit, piss, damn, hell. Alex uttered every expletive he could think of to himself, which he realized wasn't nearly as satisfying as swearing out loud. Then he took a deep breath, and then he quietly opened the door and peeked about. He saw nobody; they must all be at the ceremony. What was it Nicky said? "Oh, and one other thing. This corridor goes right up to Lord's station."

Alex ran. He ran like he'd never run before, doing his best with his belongings weighing him down slightly. He ran as if his life depended on it. His life did depend on it. He came around the corner and saw the guard. Oh fuck! What do I do? Wait! He can't know what just happened. He slowed down to a walk, his heart beating rapidly.

"Halt!" challenged the guard.

"Prince Nikolai told me to go wait for him on the platform. You must remember, I came in with him earlier."

"Yes, I remember, but this is most unusual."

"Well, I can't help it. Nicky, I mean Prince Nikolai, said that I couldn't attend the ceremony, so I had to go wait there until he was done. If you want, I can go wait outside the door of the ceremony hall."

"NO! That is not permitted. I will allow you to pass, but your life is forfeit if you try and leave the platform."

It already is forfeit. I don't have a damn thing to lose, except, perhaps, my head. "Yes, sir. I'll wait on the platform."

As soon as Alex turned the corner, out of the sight of the guard, he ran again. He came to the platform, and boarded the train as soon as one stopped. He knew the ghost train wasn't safe. He exited the train at Baker Street and ran towards the Jubilee line platform, earning many irritated looks and mutterings in his haste. He got on another train so as to confuse any would-be pursuers. His heart was pounding as the train left Baker Street station. What should I do? The train pulled into Bond Street and Alex had no answers. The train left Bond and pulled into Green Park. As Alex sat there thinking he noticed a bobby get on the train. That's it. I'll go to the police.

"Excuse me, sir?" said Alex, tapping the bobby on the shoulder.

"Yes? Constable Richard, here. How may I be of service, young master?" replied the constable not actually paying much attention to the teen.

"You know that kid on the front of the paper? That's me."

Constable Richard, an imposing figure, looked down. He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and looked at the picture. "It is you," he muttered and experienced a sudden change of attitude. "Come on son, let's go."

"Go where?"

"Scotland Yard."

"Scotland Yard. Why not the police?"

Constable Richard laughed, "Scotland Yard is the police. It's what London's Metropolitan Police are called. We're getting off at the next stop but if you'd like, I'll tell you a quick history on the way. Then when we get there, I'll turn you over to someone in the runaway department."

"I'm not a runaway."

"If you say so," replied the constable. "Right, then. You sure you aren't going to run off again? You have to promise me, or I have to secure you."

"I didn't run away the first time, so there can't be an 'again'," retorted Alex. He wanted to shut this constable up, "Look, why don't you tell me why it's called Scotland Yard. I always thought it was a silly name."

Constable Richard made a gutteral noise in his throat, "Well, the task of organising and designing the "New Police" was placed in the hands of Colonel Charles Rowan and Sir Richard Mayne. These two Commissioners occupied a private house on Whitehall Place, the back of which opened on to a courtyard known as 'Scotland'. The courtyard was later used by Sir Christopher Wren and known as 'Scotland Yard.' The back premises of Whitehall Place were used as a police station, entered from through the courtyard, and so the headquarters of the Metropolitan Police became known as Scotland Yard. These headquarters were removed in 1890 to premises on the Victoria Embankment and became known as "New Scotland Yard"; in 1967 a further removal took place to the present site at Broadway which is also known as "New Scotland Yard". "

As Constable Richard told the story, Alex glanced around to see if anyone was following. He supposed he should be nervous, anxious, or experience some stress, but the truth was he didn't feel anything except relief to be around someone with authority. He'd feel better if the constable had a gun, but he knew that wasn't something you found in England.

By the time the story was finished, they had exited the tube at Westminster, and arrived at Scotland Yard's local office. They walked in and the constable on duty saw Alex and said "Well, Richard, looks like you've come up with the bloody prize. I don't envy you the paperwork."

"Piss off, Nigel. I'm giving him to Constable Elizabeth in the runaways department. The boy walked right up to me on the tube. Simple as that. I needn't bother with any complex paperwork. They can turn him over to the embassy or whatever," muttered Richard as if Alex wasn't even there.

"Are you kidding? Around here? There's always paperwork."

"Well after I turn him in I'm off duty, so I'll be off for a pint. Coming?"

"Brilliant! We can watch the Manchester United match." At the name Manchester United, several cat-calls erupted from other constables, most of them highly derogatory in nature.

I wonder what story to tell? I need one. The truth won't work. Who'd believe it? Alex and Richard came to a small office. Richard rapped on the door, and a feminine voice replied, "It's open."

Alex was ushered in by the lady constable and he was summarily turned over with a short explanation, "This 'ere is Constable Elizabeth, and she'll have plenty of questions for you." Constable Richard walked off to fill out his report and get that pint, leaving Alex with Elizabeth.

"Well you've got tired of running away, then, have you?" inquired Elizabeth.

"I didn't run away."

"Of course not," Constable Elizabeth said in a patronizing voice. "Nobody ever does."

"I was kidnapped."

The patronizing smile disappeared from the Constable Elizabeth's face.

"You were WHAT?"