His head felt like a pumpkin about to burst, and his left hand hurt like hell. What on earth had he been doing last night? He couldn't remember having drunk anything, and he'd never known sex to affect him like this. He tried to move his fingers and it felt like someone had stuck a knife into the palm. Much against his better judgement, Alf opened his eyes. He saw red.

Blood covered the sheets. His left hand was gashed from the pad at the base of his forefinger right along his lifeline to the heel. Miraculously the tendons had survived almost intact and were clearly visible stretched across the cut which marred his palm. His right hand tightly gripped the handle of his cutthroat razor, which was embedded in the mattress just inches from Jackie's neck. Jackie lay still, breathing gently. Her blood spattered face was calm and quiet.

She opened her eyes and, seeing Alf, smiled. "Good morning Alf". Then her brain registered the blood which covered the bed and the blade which lay so close to her throat. She hastily clambered back off the bed and stood, naked and shivering, in the pale morning light.

"Alf, why did you do this to yourself?"

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Apex opened his eyes and stared blindly for a few moments until the rainbow fringe diffraction patterns settled down around the objects in the cell. For a cell it undeniably was. It was the hard bed, whitewashed walls and the tiny barred window that gave it away.

As he rose from the pallet Apex gingerly felt at his head. The gauze was crusted with dried blood and seemed to be stuck to his temple. Apex went over to the door to look through the grille which was set into it. A guard stood sentry just to the right and Apex called out to him. "Hey, could you tell me what I'm doing here?"

The guard looked round with a disdainful sneer which he had obviously been practising a lot. "Ah, you're awake then are you? The CO will be delighted. He would like a word."

The sentry's look of contempt quickly turned to one of utmost horror as he saw the prisoner's head melt like wax in a kiln. The features ran, the face disintegrated, grey liquid oozed out from what was left of the ears and the forehead collapsed inwards as the skull lost its rigidity. Two small discs like circular prisms fell to the ground and shattered, releasing noxious gas. Rivulets of molten skin dribbled down the door. "Jesus Christ! Sarge! Help!" The young soldier ran from the room with his eyes bulging.

As the guard left the room, Apex' arms snaked out from behind the bars and picked up his eyes, slotting them back into the ruins of his sockets. They then scooped up the globules of skin, plastering them back onto the head and expertly reforming the features.

Then the lock snapped open and the Magician walked free...

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"Mmm, I haven't had a decent bowl of porridge for ages."

Jackie was confused and frightened. The quick fling with the mysteriously powerful man she had met on the Liverpool - London train a fortnight ago was turning into something uncontrollable. Her feelings were more than just fascination with his abilities or lust for his body, she was definitely falling for him. Not only that, things were definitely getting strange.

"Alf, you said last week you hated everything about Scotland, now you're porridge's greatest fan. Yesterday morning you were full of enthusiasm to get here to Edinburgh for some business trip, and now you seem to have less idea of your purpose than I do. Then last night you tried to cut off your hand. I think I have the right to some sort of explanation." Throughout this speech Alf had had his head buried in the porridge bowl. He also seemed to be having trouble with his spoon. As Jackie finished he raised his head with a puzzled frown settling upon his brow.

"Jackie, my mother was a Scot. When my father died we moved to Aberdeen where I lived until I was sixteen. I think Scotland is one of the most brilliant places on the planet. So why would I say I hated it?

"Hang on, what did you say about last week? I only met you yesterday."

Jackie was not amused by this astounding conversational gambit. Her expression was frosty enough to make the Titanic feel nervous - if Alf had had that much nous he might have made some last ditch attempt to recover the situation. As it was, his life expectancy had just shortened drastically. Fortunately, Jackie bore enough affection for the wretched creature that she gave it some small warning.

"I would be very careful about the next words I say if I were you, Mr du Plex."

"Jackie, could you tell me what the date is."

"The whole future of our relationship is hanging in the balance and you want to know what the date is?"

"Please. It could be very important."

"Well, it's the 18th. Of November, before you ask."

"Oh shit. Jackie, I have been having occasional blackouts over the last six months or so. They usually last a few hours.

"Jackie, I've just lost three weeks."

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All of this and nothing in the next exciting episode of...

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