Kaspar shrugged. ‘I don’t think they’ll do that.’
‘Why not? That’s what I’d do in their shoes.’
Kaspar studied the man before him. Just a few short weeks ago, it would’ve been like looking in a mirror. ‘Let’s hope, as the shoe is on the other foot, that the Crusaders find our Alliance shoes a bad fit,’ he said.
‘So what’s going to happen now?’ asked Edwin.
Kaspar shrugged. ‘No idea.’
‘Guardian, aren’t you scared?’
Kaspar smiled. ‘I’m terrified. I don’t have a clue what tomorrow may bring, but I’m hoping it’ll be something new and different.’
‘That’s a good thing?’ Edwin’s tone was highly sceptical.
‘Compared to the prospect of the old way of thinking and more of the same, it’s a very good thing.’
‘I disagree.’ Active belligerence was now present in Edwin’s voice.
Kaspar shrugged.
‘You’re wrong, Guardian,’ Edwin told him. ‘The past has a way of clinging on. Don’t be so eager to dismiss it.’
‘Life is about change. And change will arrive whether we want it to or not,’ said Kaspar. And with that he headed for the escalator.
It took him over five minutes to find Mac. She was sitting cross-legged in an alcove, wearing gloves to examine an old book resting on the wooden floor before her. Kaspar hadn’t seen her in so long he took a moment to watch her as she pored over the pages of the book. Her purple, spiky haircut was gone, replaced by a jet-black, sleek-cut hairstyle. The army boots and outlandish clothes were also no more. She wore a white collarless shirt, black trousers and black trainers. As if she knew she was being watched, Mac froze momentarily before turning her head.
‘Hi, Mackenzie,’ said Kaspar.
Mac got to her feet without saying a word, her gaze never leaving Kaspar’s.
‘I . . . I wondered if we could have a talk, in private?’
Mac indicated the alcove they were in with one hand. ‘You can’t get much more private than this.’
‘I needed to see you . . . to tell you how sorry I am about your dad,’ said Kaspar quietly.
Mac frowned. ‘You’ve already done that. Why are you here, Kas? Seeking absolution? D’you want me to forgive you and tell you that what you did to my dad was OK, and then you can get on with your day, your year, your life?’
‘No. I know it doesn’t work that way.’
‘Then I don’t understand what you want from me.’
‘I-I need someone to talk to,’ Kaspar admitted.
Mac raised an eyebrow. ‘And I’m the best you could come up with?’
‘You’re the only one I came up with,’ said Kaspar. ‘You’re the only one who knows everything I’ve done. I guess I need someone to tell me that I’m not the devil.’
‘And you think I’m the one to do that?’ Mac said, incredulity lending a sharp note to her voice.
Kaspar regarded her for a moment. He sighed. ‘You’re right. This was a really bad idea.’
He turned to leave, calling himself all kinds of a fool. What the hell was he thinking? But a week of uncertainty, incapacitating guilt and a lack of sleep had obviously dissolved what little sense he had left.
‘Kas, wait,’ Mac called after him.
He turned round but didn’t attempt to move closer.
‘You’re not the devil, OK?’
Kaspar sighed again. He didn’t feel any better for hearing it, and he suspected Mac didn’t feel any better for saying it either. ‘I shouldn’t have come here. You’ve got things to do and I’ve already taken up too much of your time.’
‘I’m not that busy. I’m hunting down the truth but it can wait for another few minutes,’ said Mac. ‘After all, it’s not going anywhere.’
Hunting down the truth? What did that mean? Kaspar decided not to ask. He didn’t want to push his luck.
‘Kas, d’you ever regret becoming a Guardian?’ asked Mac.
Kaspar immediately shook his head. ‘No. It’s what I was born to be. And I’m sure it’s what my mum planned for me. I just didn’t fully appreciate that until I saw her lying in a drawer in the North Wing of the Clinic. I’ll never regret what I did there.’
‘But you do have some regrets?’
‘Oh yes. Loads of them.’
‘Like?’
‘You wouldn’t understand,’ sighed Kaspar. ‘I don’t mean to be patronizing, but you’re a civilian. You don’t have to make split-second decisions or even long-term choices that will affect the fates of countless others.’
‘Don’t give me that,’ Mac countered angrily. ‘You sound just like my dad.’
‘Your dad was a great soldier and he may have got some things wrong, but he got that one right,’ said Kaspar, warming to his theme. ‘Voss used to say the definition of a civilian is someone who lets others do their dirty work. Mac, with the best will in the world, you don’t know what it’s like to risk your health, your freedom and maybe even your life. How can you? You deal with books and knowledge. Your world is safe. Mine isn’t.’
‘Books and knowledge don’t make for a safe world. Just the opposite. Books and knowledge are facets of the truth and the truth can be very dangerous,’ Mac argued. ‘You of all people should know that.’
‘Yeah, the truth is dangerous and worth fighting for,’ said Kaspar. ‘But that’s where I and the other Guardians step in and take over. That way you get to sit in your alcove and carry on reading.’
At the look on Mac’s face, he clamped his lips together, but too late. Damn it! That wasn’t what he’d come here to say at all. Well, Mac wasn’t chucking books at him or launching herself across the alcove in his direction; at least not yet. Time to retreat.
‘I’m sorry, Mackenzie. Every time I open my mouth, I put my foot in it.’ He sighed.
‘What else did my dad get right?’ Mac asked.
Huh? Kaspar regarded Mac in surprise. The warmth that used to be in her eyes wasn’t there, but neither was the ice.
‘A lot of things actually,’ he said. ‘He was my mentor. I looked up to him.’ He could feel his face begin to burn. Nothing was coming out of his mouth the way he’d planned tonight.
‘Have you had dinner yet?’ Mac surprised him by asking.
Kaspar shook his head.
‘My break is about to start and I was thinking of heading over to the mess hall for a meal,’ said Mac. ‘If you’ve got nothing better to do . . .’
‘You want me to come with you?’ Kaspar asked, astounded.
‘It’d be nice to talk about my dad with someone who knew the real man, but who hasn’t forgotten all the good things he did. But if you’re too busy or about to go on duty, then no worries,’ shrugged Mac.
‘No, I, er, I’d love to have dinner with you,’ said Kaspar. ‘I’d really love that.’
Mac frowned. ‘It’s just a meal, Kaspar. It doesn’t mean we’re engaged or anything.’
‘Yeah, I get that,’ said Kaspar, his face warming.
Mac smiled. Kaspar smiled back. She bent to pick up her book and put it back on the shelf before they headed out of the alcove together. Kaspar kept stealing glances at her. She had a real knack for doing the unexpected, but he kind of liked it. And for the first time in too long, some of the guilt that had been sitting on his chest and slowly suffocating him began to ease – just a little.
But a little was good.
A little was a start.
I’m posting this on the datanet because I have something to say.
Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the truth has finally arisen in Capital City. We in the Alliance have been betrayed, not by the Crusaders but by our own High Council. For decades we have been taught their vision, their extracts, their version of history.
It was all lies.
Buckle up, because here comes the truth.
We in the Alliance were the ones who almost destroyed our planet. Capital City is built on the land, the blood, the bones, the tears of
the Crusaders. This land was theirs long before it was ours. We took it by force and exiled them to the Badlands. Our High Councillors were corrupt. Our Special Support Group were the ruthless lackeys of the High Council.
Never underestimate the value of fear. It is a powerful weapon of control. The High Council instilled within all of us a fear of the different, the unknown, the truth. We were taught to fear the Crusaders. We were told they were out to destroy us. How many of us challenged that view? I know I never did. How many of us had the courage to question what we had been taught and told?
The SSG were the ones responsible for the Loring School outrage and countless other attacks that were then blamed on the Insurgents. Such attacks focused our attention, our fear and our hatred away from the true perpetrators.
Each and every Alliance citizen is as guilty as those in the High Council for how we have treated the Crusaders in general and the Insurgents in particular. We stopped thinking for ourselves because it was easier to let others do our thinking for us. Will we allow those with a thirst for power to rise up to fill the vacuum left by the High Council and to once again suppress freedom of expression and thought? Will we continue to digest the lies of old simply because they are easier to swallow than the inconvenient truth? Or will we seize this new day and ensure that never again do we place our lives, our thoughts, our destinies in the hands of unworthy others?
The choice is yours and mine.
So, who am I?
Just an average Alliance citizen who has had access to confidential data in the past, but was too complacent to scrutinize it until very recently.
For those who still doubt my words, I’ve posted datanet links at the bottom of this screen to a number of now-unlocked sites containing top-secret information that confirm that every word I’ve said so far is the truth.
What we do with that truth is up to each and every one of us.
But as I once read, there are none so blind as those who refuse to see. It is time for all of us to open our eyes.
A friend of mine recently accused me of letting others do my dirty work. Well, this is me raising my head above the parapet. I’ve posted this message and the links to all the corroborative evidence on every news and social networking site I could think of.
I don’t know what will happen next. Maybe it’ll go viral, maybe it won’t – but at least the truth will no longer be hidden away. It’s out in the sunlight for all to see. I don’t know what kind of trouble I may bring down upon my head for doing this. But I’ve thought long and hard about it, and if I do get my head handed to me, then it’s a price I’m willing to pay.
To any remaining authorities out there, posting this was my decision and my decision alone. I had no collaborators and it was all my own idea. If you’re so afraid of the truth that you decide to come after me, I’m easy to find.
My name is Mackenzie Voss and I have one wish for you, for me, for all of us.
Peace.
www.mackenzievoss.net
www.alliancehighcouncil.net/classified/historical_documents
www.alliancehighcouncil.net/classified/crusader_threat/containment
About the Author
Malorie Blackman is one of today’s most imaginative and convincing writers for young readers. She has won numerous awards for her books, including the Red House Children’s Book Award and the Fantastic Fiction Award, and has been shortlisted for the Carnegie Medal. Noughts & Crosses has been adapted for the stage by the Royal Shakespeare Company, and is soon to be a graphic novel.
In 2005 Malorie was honoured with the Eleanor Farjeon Award in recognition of her contribution to the world of children’s books, and in 2008 she received an OBE for her services to children’s literature. She has been described by The Times as ‘a national treasure’.
ALSO BY MALORIE BLACKMAN
THE NOUGHTS & CROSSES SEQUENCE:
NOUGHTS & CROSSES
KNIFE EDGE
CHECKMATE
DOUBLE CROSS
BOYS DON’T CRY
THE STUFF OF NIGHTMARES
TRUST ME
PIG-HEART BOY
HACKER
A.N.T.I.D.O.T.E.
THIEF!
DANGEROUS REALITY
THE DEADLY DARE MYSTERIES
DEAD GORGEOUS
UNHEARD VOICES
(A collection of short stories and poems, collected by Malorie Blackman)
FOR YOUNGER READERS:
CLOUD BUSTING
OPERATION GADGETMAN!
WHIZZIWIG and WHIZZIWIG RETURNS
FOR BEGINNER READERS:
JACK SWEETTOOTH
SNOW DOG
SPACE RACE
THE MONSTER CRISP-GUZZLER
NOBLE CONFLICT
AN RHCP DIGITAL EBOOK 978 1 409 02559 7
Published in Great Britain by RHCP Digital,
an imprint of Random House Children’s Publishers UK
A Random House Group Company
This ebook edition published 2013
Copyright © Oneta Malorie Blackman, 2013
First published in Great Britain by Doubleday, 2013
The right of Malorie Blackman to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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