Fault Lines

by D. J. McCune

  ‘This is going to be brilliant!’ Dan was nodding and using his sunflower seeds to make a smiley face. ‘I can’t wait. I love going away. And I love planes. That bit when they close the doors and tell everyone to prepare for departure.’

  Archie was sketching a plane. ‘I like the fast bit at the start. When the plane kind of warms up and then goes mental along the runway and goes up in the air dead fast. And you feel like your stomach’s still on the runway when the rest of you is in the sky!’

  Adam stayed quiet. He didn’t have anything to contribute; he’d never been on a plane before. But someone else was staying quiet too. When he glanced at Spike, he was staring at his laptop with ferocious concentration. He looked pale. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Of course I’m all right,’ Spike snapped. ‘Why wouldn’t I be all right?’

  ‘They had this programme on last week about plane crashes,’ Dan chirruped, blissfully unaware that Spike was squirming in his seat. ‘I was trying to see where you should sit so that if you crash you’re all right.’

  ‘Where should you sit?’ Archie paused, his pen poised in mid-air.

  Dan shrugged. ‘They didn’t really say. It depends on the kind of crash. There are loads of different types. There are the ones where the plane nosedives into the ground and the kind where it just falls out of the sky. And then there are the ones where it sort of breaks apart in the middle …’

  There was a thump. Spike had slammed his laptop shut and was glaring at Dan. ‘All right. We get the picture.’ His face was now pale and shiny.

  ‘You’re not scared of flying, are you?’ Archie leered and moved his pen quickly, filling in a figure behind the plane window. It seemed to be all terrified eyes and a screaming mouth. He tilted his drawing so the plane was aiming for the ground. ‘Look, here’s you!’

  Spike stood up, grabbed his laptop and swore at them before storming off. Adam stared after him and tried not to smile but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t that he liked Spike being scared; it was just that it was nice to see that he was capable of something as human as mortal fear.

  Dan grinned. ‘He is totally bricking it. Who knew? Even robots have feelings!’

  The Beast wasn’t in school all week. Adam had heard various rumours – that he had broken bones, broken teeth or a broken nose. Privately Adam suspected that only his pride was hurt. At least he didn’t have to be worried that the Beast would strike before the trip, now that he had nothing to lose.

  The sun rose and fell and suddenly it was Thursday. He was in registration and Fenton was giving them last-minute instructions about what to bring and not to bring. They were to be at the airport no later than 11 a.m. on Friday morning. They were to bring their passports! They were to behave themselves or they would be flayed alive! They were to make sure they brought a coat! And their passports! He wasn’t amused by the chorus of titters that followed this, nor the anonymous voice that hissed, ‘Yes, Mum!’

  Throughout the lecture, Adam couldn’t help watching Melissa. She was sitting very quietly and when everyone else stood up to go she slipped up to Fenton’s desk. He heard her ask where she should go in school time and Fenton answered with uncharacteristic kindness. Adam fled into the corridor, not wanting to eavesdrop, but when he got there he hesitated, then waited for her.

  She came out a few minutes later, head down, looking miserable. When she saw Adam she started and for a moment her face lit up. Then she took a step back and the shutters came down.

  ‘Hi,’ Adam said. He couldn’t think of anything else.

  She almost smiled. ‘Hi yourself.’

  ‘How are you?’

  She shrugged. ‘OK. And you?’ Distant, polite, meaningless. The kind of thing you would say to a stranger.

  His heart hurt. ‘I’ve been better,’ he said. Her face changed and he cursed himself. He had always done this – blurted out the truth. There were probably rules for this kind of thing but he didn’t know them. That was the strange thing. However many lies he had told her about his life, he had always been honest about how he felt.

  Her face softened. ‘Yeah, me too.’

  He thought she was going to walk away so he asked quickly, ‘How’s your mum?’

  ‘She’s OK. Not brilliant but OK. She’s getting there.’

  ‘That’s great.’ Silence. He studied her face. He missed it. This was the closest he had been to her for two weeks. He looked at her eyes and her nose and her lips. They were chapped, as though she’d been biting them. It didn’t stop him wanting to kiss them.

  ‘Well, have a good time in Japan,’ she said, too brightly, and he could see tears sparkling in her eyes.

  Adam took her hand. ‘I miss you,’ he blurted out. ‘I really miss you. I … wish you were coming to Japan.’

  She smiled, sadly and sweetly. ‘What difference would it make, Adam? We’d only have to come home again, wouldn’t we?’

  She walked away, taking a sliver of his heart with her.

  Chapter 19

  nd then, at last, it was time. Adam had risen at dawn to do some last-minute packing. He knew that some people would have parents dropping them off at the airport but he had decided to travel alone. It was better for his family to keep a low profile. Luc had offered him a lift on his illicit motorbike, but having fought this hard to get to Japan Adam didn’t want to perish on the way to the airport. He had declined the offer and decided to get the train.

  His family gathered in the hallway to see him off. He had imagined tear-stained faces and declarations of affection but his send-off was mainly limited to mocking his special Bonehill hoodie and ‘hilarious’ advice about water-jet toilets and blowfish sushi. He did at least get hugs from Auntie Jo and Chloe – and to his surprise a fierce kiss and tight embrace from his mother. ‘We will miss you. Garde-toi bien,’ she whispered. Take care.

  He patted the dogs one last time and dropped his rucksack into the boot of Nathanial’s battered Volvo. It wasn’t used very often and there was an anxious moment when the engine coughed and revved but it soon roared into life. Nathanial drove the way he did everything else – carefully and courteously.

  ‘Are you excited?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah.’ And now that the time had come, Adam was excited. He would finally get away from his family and have one normal week in the normal world. It had only taken him nearly sixteen years.

  ‘You will visit Hikaru, won’t you? The sooner the better. He may not want your help but it would be polite to offer if you get the chance.’

  Adam’s excitement dipped a notch. He wasn’t escaping the Luman world entirely but he would do his best to keep it to a minimum. ‘Yeah, sure.’

  Nathanial smiled. ‘And enjoy yourself.’ He hesitated. ‘I know you’ll be sorry to leave school but it’s good to go out on a high note.’

  At the train station he lifted the rucksack onto Adam’s back and shook his hand. ‘Have a good time and take care of yourself.’ He smiled again and squeezed Adam’s shoulder. ‘We’ll be glad to see you home safe and well.’

  Adam nodded, cheeks flaming. This was practically an emotional outburst by his father’s standards but all Adam could think about was getting away. He felt a pang of guilt.

  It was easier once he was on the train. He held his rucksack beside him and a smaller bag for the flight. He was almost free. As the train rattled past houses and trees and roads he found himself smiling. OK, Melissa wasn’t going but his friends were. It would be a laugh. He would take loads of photos. And then someday, when he was an experienced Luman, he could sift back through the snapshots and remember the life he used to have, once upon a time. His smile faded.

  Adam had wondered if it would be difficult to find his group but it turned out there weren’t too many large parties, all dressed in royal blue hoodies, being terrorised by a stocky, bald man brandishing a tour guide’s flag. He sighed as he lugged his rucksack across the terminal. Why did The Bulb have to go on the trip with them? He spotted his friends in the throng and slip
ped in beside them.

  ‘Hannah Murphy forgot her passport,’ Dan whispered, nodding at a sobbing girl being comforted by her friends. ‘She’s waiting to see if her dad will get it here in time. Think he’s getting a taxi.’

  It was agreed that one teacher would wait behind with the unfortunate Hannah while everyone else deposited their suitcases at check-in and streamed through security into the shopping hall beyond. Adam kept a careful eye on what everyone else was doing. He did set the bleeper off at security with a pocketful of change and had to endure a frisking from a surly airport security man and an apoplectic glare from The Bulb. Still, having made it this far they were let loose on the shops for an hour, with strict instructions to meet back at the departure board.

  Spike immediately abandoned them and headed off to the nearest coffee shop, muttering something about last-minute Wi-Fi access. Adam trailed round with Dan and Archie, watching with disbelief as Archie bought a bottle of very pungent aftershave, enormous sunglasses, a gold baseball cap and some very baggy jeans.

  ‘Japanese girls love English guys,’ Archie said, looking happy. ‘And they like rap too. So an English rapper is like, their god!’

  ‘But you can’t rap,’ Dan protested.

  Archie shrugged. ‘It’s just talking fast. How hard can it be?’

  Adam was getting impatient. He wanted to get on the plane. He had never been on one before. He wanted to see if it looked the way they looked in films. He wanted to see the air stewards do their safety routine for real. He had even watched a video online, showing how you worked the seatbelt, just so he wouldn’t get caught out.

  Archie ran out of money before they ran out of time. They waited for their group to meet up and trooped off to the departure gate, a beaming Hannah Murphy clutching her passport like a trophy.

  And then, all of a sudden it was time. They were actually getting on the plane and Adam’s heart leapt with excitement. He urged his friends to the front of the line. They shuffled along in a queue, herded by a teacher. Dan was whistling between his teeth, something vaguely familiar. A grey-haired man in front turned and glared at him. Dan stopped and blinked at him.

  ‘What’s the tune?’Adam couldn’t help asking.

  ‘“Don’t Fear the Reaper”,’ Spike muttered. His face was grey.

  Their passports were checked and then they were inching along the covered walkway. Finally, Adam took his first ever steps onto a plane. He grinned at the air hostess, who smiled automatically but recoiled slightly in the face of such manic delight. He tried to tone down his excitement but how could he?! How could he not be excited at flying through the air in a machine?

  The plane was filling up fast, people cramming bags into overhead lockers and settling into their seats. One lady at the front of the plane was already absorbed in her book while a cheerful-looking man beside her had pulled out some crochet. Each row had ten seats, two blocks of three with a block of four in the middle. Adam was seated in a row with his friends, while a delighted Archie was sitting across the aisle in the centre of the plane with three girls. They looked less thrilled than he did.

  By a cruel twist of fate, Spike had ended up with the window seat, with Adam and Dan beside him. ‘Do you want to sit here?’

  Adam hesitated. Having the window seat would be cool but it also meant being stuck beside only Spike for the next thirteen hours, without Dan there to talk to if things got tense. ‘Don’t you want to see?’

  ‘Not really,’ Spike said through clenched teeth.

  ‘He’d rather not look,’ Dan said ever-helpfully. ‘You know, if we crash.’

  Adam shrugged and squeezed past Spike, strapping himself into his seat. He awarded himself points for getting it right first time.

  There was a small screen on the back of the seat in front. It flickered into life and a safety video began to play in both Japanese and English. He watched it with interest – or at least he tried to. It was hard not getting distracted by Spike’s low-level mutterings. ‘We’re six rows away from the nearest exit. It’s too far. We’re right on the outer limit of the safe zone.’ He glared at Adam’s blank incomprehension. ‘Seven rows. The survival zone is within seven rows of the exit. That’s where you want to be. How do you not know this stuff?’

  Adam shrugged. ‘It’s probably better not thinking about it all too much.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Dan piped up. ‘I mean, even if you’re sitting right beside the door you can’t exactly open it and step out in mid-air, can you?’

  Spike gave a strangled whimper and rifled through his hand luggage. He pulled out two white tablets and swallowed them without water. ‘Wake me up when we get to Japan.’

  The engine had been there in the background, a dim, bass hum. Now it revved up a gear. The cabin stewards were scurrying about doing final checks, most of them smiling Japanese women. There was a brief, unsettling jolt and the plane began to roll backwards, away from the airport. Adam’s heart quickened. The engine kicked up a notch and the plane paused, then trundled forward.

  They seemed to taxi for a long time. It was like being in a really slow car. The wheels bumped at intervals, in a way that didn’t exactly inspire confidence, sending Spike into fresh paroxysms. Dan was humming tunelessly, seemingly perfectly at ease.

  And then the plane stopped. The engine noise rose up in a wild hum and Adam’s seat trembled beneath him, like a dog on a leash, quivering – and then with a sudden high-pitched roar the plane surged forward, out of the starting block, gathering speed while Adam stared out of the window at the world blurring past and Spike gripped the armrest and moaned. And at last, they were up, the sudden weightlessness sending Adam’s stomach into freefall, before it caught up with the rest of him, just like Archie had said it would. They were in the air.

  Adam sat back in his chair with a contented sigh. He was on his way.

  For Adam, the beginning of the flight had a magical quality. He was here, in a metal can, hurtling through the sky. Sitting by the window made it hard to talk to his friends (Spike was white, sweaty and silent) but gave him the perfect chance to look down on a world he had never seen before. Seeing everything so far below made him feel small inside but not in a bad way. Cars and houses and motorways looked like toys. It reminded him of seeing the Tapestry of Lights; billions of tiny specks of life endlessly moving.

  The Bulb prowled past, snarling that no one was allowed more than one fizzy drink and if they misbehaved he would keep them on the plane and send them straight back to England. As soon as the seatbelt signs went off, Dan scurried off to explore but Adam was happy enough to stay in his seat and keep watching the world below.

  ‘Pretty smooth so far,’ Spike said. The colour was returning to his face and his voice had a lazy, drawling quality. Adam wondered what the white tablets were but decided not to ask. ‘Take-offs and landings are what you have to worry about. That’s when there’s maximum chance of human error.’

  ‘I think we should be safe enough for the next twelve hours or so. Anyway, the odds are pretty much in our favour,’ Adam said.

  Spike smirked. ‘Somebody has to be the one in a million. Everybody thinks they’re going to win the lottery so why don’t they think it’ll be their plane that falls out of the sky?’ He shuddered. When he looked at Adam he seemed almost accusing. ‘You don’t seem very afraid.’

  ‘Sometimes things happen that we can’t control.’ Adam felt a twinge of sympathy. Right now he wished he could just tell Spike, It’s going to be OK. When you die, there’s nothing to worry about. What was the point though? They wouldn’t believe him anyway. He cleared his throat. ‘I mean, it’s not like we can do anything about it if the plane is going to crash. We just have to sit back and try and enjoy the ride.’ As if on cue a smiling steward handed him a tray, with a mixture of recognisable food and some less identifiable Japanese food.

  Spike shook his head, refusing the food. ‘Don’t want to dilute the tablets,’ he muttered. ‘Want to sleep.’

  But he didn’t. Inste
ad he seemed to hover somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Adam ate his food with relish, loving the plasticky strangeness of it, only to look sideways and find Spike smirking at him in a sleepy, knowing, unnerving way. ‘You all right?’

  ‘I did some snooping on you.’ Spike was smiling in a carefree way so at odds with his normal uptight self-control that Adam found himself at a loss. ‘Over the summer. You said your dad was a businessman so I did some digging.’

  Adam’s pulse quickened with anger and fear. ‘What do you mean snooping?’

  ‘I know you think I forgot about the photo you deleted but I didn’t. I couldn’t get it back so I thought I’d see what else I could dig up.’ He waggled his finger, the contrast between his words and his slack, happy face somehow making his words more sinister. ‘And I couldn’t find anything on your dad. I mean, I found his name – Nathanial Mortson. Weird spelling. But not anything else.’

  ‘Why would you?’ Adam protested. ‘He has the most boring job ever. He’s not a celebrity. Why would he be on the internet?’

  ‘Because everyone is on the internet. Unless they’ve something to hide and even then it’s nearly impossible.’

  Adam felt his temper rising but he kept it in check. He had a feeling he would never get more out of Spike than he was getting right now. ‘Well, you found his name. So obviously he doesn’t have anything to hide.’

  ‘No.’ Spike shook his head. ‘It means that whatever he’s hiding, he has really good people working on it. The best people. Big-money people.’

  ‘You’re completely mental.’ Adam’s voice was flat but his heart was pogoing madly in his chest. ‘My father goes to work each day. I go to school. My mother makes us dinner. We are the most boring family ever.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Spike said, almost cheerfully. His head was lolling to one side now and he had a stupid grin plastered across his face. ‘I’m going to find out what you’re hiding. I always find what I’m looking for. Apart from the photo. But I’ll find that too, eventually. There’s always a way.’