by Ross Welford
‘It’s got to be the main entrance, I think,’ I say.
‘OK, pardner,’ says Philip.
Then I look down at myself. Jeans, trainers, woolly sweater. I look nothing like an Anthallan. There is no way I can just walk up to the entrance.
‘But how am I going to manage that?’ I ask.
‘By listening to your Uncle Philip, that’s how. Right now, though, we have to go. We can assume that a sudden breach of the force field will result in an investigation. We don’t wanna hang around here, kid.’
Back in the craft, the image of a smouldering Suzy flapping through the force field stays in my mind and I am silent as we continue our journey around the perimeter of Earth Zone. We keep the dense forest on our left for several kilometres until we see more vehicles ahead of us, some Anthallans and several low, black Lego buildings. Philip stops our vehicle next to some others but we do not get out.
‘I’ve got to keep the VI on,’ he says. ‘An ancient GV like this one will attract a lot of attention, kind of like an old Rolls-Royce for you guys. The entrance is right ahead.’
There is a gap in the trees about as wide as a couple of streets. To one side is a vast screen showing black-and-white images from inside Earth Zone that I recognise from Hellyann’s 3D film when we were in Mad Mick’s Mental Rentals.
That feels like years ago.
‘That’s it?’ I say. ‘You just … walk in?’
I think I was expecting something like Disneyland – ticket kiosks, queues, gift shops, popcorn stands, kids holding balloons and smiling parents. Instead the small groups of Anthallans walk silently and solemnly in and out of the gap.
Philip says, ‘Anyone can come and go, and observe and learn.’
To one side of the entrance is a long, shallow pool with running water. Anthallans of all ages stand or squat at the side, and it is a moment or two until I realise what they are doing.
‘Is that … a toilet?’ I ask Philip in disbelief. ‘It’s very, erm … open.’
‘Yes, Ethan. There is no shame here about bodily functions.’
I can’t stop staring at these groups. I try to think beyond the fact that they are smallish, hairy creatures who all look alike, and I realise what it is that is so strange: it is the silence.
Nobody runs around, or laughs, or shouts. This is a day out, I think: a day away from their Lego boxes arranged in neat rows, and their perfectly clean streets, and parks with grass cut by robots and symmetrical trees.
‘Philip,’ I say, ‘is nobody having, you know … fun?’
‘Good question, Ethan. Fun, delight, joy – these are human ideas. Here on Anthalla, knowledge and learning and facts are what give people satisfaction. And so they come here. They observe the Earth people and they leave satisfied that their own lives are much more safe and orderly.’
I think about this as I watch the groups and singles entering and leaving Earth Zone.
After a while I say, ‘So how do I get in, then?’
‘I would say, Ethan, that you just walk in with everybody else.’
‘But … won’t they stop me?’
‘Nobody will cause a fuss. Nobody ever does. My prediction is that they will watch you with curiosity, but do nothing. They will assume you are one of the exhibits. There are bots at the entrance, but you will be going in, not out. Why would they stop you? Ethan? Ethan?’
I have fallen silent as, on the screen ahead of us by the entrance a huge image of Tammy has just appeared, blinking and looking bewildered. Beneath the screen, on the ground, a small group point and nod gravely to one another. Some symbols appear on the screen on top of Tammy’s image. I do not need to be able to read Anthallan to guess at their meaning.
NEW THIS WEEK.
ORIGINAL HUMAN FROM EARTH.
COME AND SEE THE LATEST EXHIBIT.
Or something like that, anyway.
‘Philip?’ I say. ‘Take me to the hole in the shield.’
Both options – going in the main gate or sneaking in through an invisible gap in a force field that could roast me alive – are insane risks. Somehow, at this moment, sneaking in seems slightly less insane.
Or maybe it’s just that I’ve lost any perspective.
I swallow hard and look again at the line of trees in front of me. We are not far from where Suzy went through with such awful results. I recognise a huge Douglas fir that towers over the other vegetation. If I just look at the trees and nothing else, I can imagine I am back home, and so that is what I do. It helps.
As Philip has instructed, I approach the trees until I feel the hairs on my arm prickle up.
‘OK, I can feel it,’ I tell him over my shoulder.
‘Now walk to the right, keeping the same distance from the trees,’ says Philip, his voice coming from the interior of the spacecraft. ‘Further,’ he says. ‘Keep going. You will feel it eventually.’
After about twenty metres, I feel the prickling sensation diminish. Another two metres and it starts again, so I walk backwards to feel it stop.
‘I think I’ve found it,’ I call back.
‘I gotta wish you good luck, Ethan. It’s not something you hear much about on this planet. People here rely on calculating probabilities and assessing likelihoods and so on. But I think you’re gonna need luck.’
This doesn’t feel reassuring, but I say, ‘Thank you’ anyway, because it seems polite and I know that Philip likes good manners.
‘Can’t you come with me?’ I add. ‘Can I eject you or something?’
‘No. Sorry. An unattended GV would eventually attract attention, either from the Sky Eyes or perimeter patrols. Besides, if something goes wrong in there, you do not want to be found with me. Trust me, you are better off on your own.’
‘But, Philip—’ I begin.
‘No buts, kiddo,’ Philip’s voice says. ‘Go. One of you Earth guys once said, “The harder you work, the luckier you get.” No one has worked harder than you to get your sister back, so I reckon you’re due some luck. Besides, my systems tell me that a perimeter patrol is gonna be right overhead in about thirty seconds, which gives you less than that to get through that hole – which somebody took a huge risk to make for you. So what are you waiting for? I’ll meet you back here but right now I gotta go. These perimeter patrols are not fooled by VI.’
I take a step and then stop, paralysed by fear. If only I was not alone, I think. This is a twin’s dilemma: since before I was born, I have had a partner. Someone to share stuff with.
Not now. Behind me, the craft has started up, and I hear a swish as it zooms off with Philip in command. And now I truly am alone.
With my back to the forest, I stare out at the barren landscape, but I have no time to wonder about it. In the far distance, and approaching quickly along the line of trees, is a large globe which I take to be the perimeter patrol. Running now, I get close to the force field and, as soon as the prickling of my skin stops, I clench my fists and dive left into a tiny gap in the bushes.
I’m through! I crouch down in the crackling leaves between shaggy, thick-trunked trees until I hear a low sound overhead like a massive tumble dryer. The patrolling globe does not stop, but passes over and I feel something like relief.
I have stood up when I hear the tumble-dryer noise again. It is returning, and without thinking about it, I lie flat on the ground, concealed by a dead tree trunk.
The silver globe is about two metres across and it hovers close to where I came through. I dare not raise my head to look; instead I try to make myself even flatter. If I could sink into the earth, I would. My face is pressed into the dry, warm soil and I can hear the thum-thum-thum-thum throbbing noise of the patrol globe. I’m probably only there for about half a minute, but it feels longer. Eventually, the sound retreats and I feel as though I can breathe out.
As I do, I blink in astonishment. Remember, I’m still on my front, one cheek resting on the earth. Before me is a swollen, orange shape that looks exactly like … surely not? I put out my fin
gers to touch it and I jump when I hear the voice behind me.
‘You are right. It is a Cheessy What-iss-it. I thought I had dropped one.’
‘Hellyann!’ I say and leap to my feet. Without thinking, I rush forward and hug her, mindless of her smell – and for once I hardly even notice it. I say, ‘What are you … I mean, how? How did …?’
‘Philip was bound to bring you here. I haf been waiting. As for the rest, I shall explain later,’ says Hellyann, disengaging herself from my embrace. ‘Right now we must move because we haf been spotted and—’
‘Where is Tammy?’ I say, not even listening to what Hellyann is saying. ‘Is she here? Is she all right? What about Iggy?’
Hellyann pauses – and looks awkward.
‘What? What?’ I say.
‘There haf been … complications,’ she says. ‘Follow me.’
The dry sticks and leaves beneath our feet crunch noisily as I follow Hellyann through the woods. She walks fast, but she’s not running, which I am grateful for: despite sleeping, I am still mighty tired and hungry.
As we go, Hellyann talks.
‘Two young Originals,’ she says. ‘That is unusual here at Earth Sone. A lot of people want to see them, and they are peing closely guarded. You will see.’
‘Two? You mean Tammy and Iggy?’
‘Yes. Exactly.’
‘Can we … get at them? I mean, rescue them?’
‘I do not know, Ethan. I wass released almost immediately. I find it hard to lie but I allowed them to pelieve that I caught Ikk-ee deliberately becauss I wanted to be a Hunter. I had to promise to return to Earth and collect yet more Originals. Ikk-ee will be introduced to the visitors in Earth Sone in about one hour. He will meet Tammy and everypody is interested to see how they will react. A meeting between two Originals who know each other has never been recorded before.’
I ponder this for a moment as the twigs crack under my feet. They’re observing us like animals, I think and I am creeped out the more I think about it. My heart quickens when I see the forest becoming thinner in front of me. Soon we are looking at a wide expanse of fields, covered with high, yellowing grass bending in the strong breeze.
‘They need rain,’ I say to Hellyann.
She nods. ‘The drought experiment has been going on for months now, but nopotty seems to care.’
Then I yelp with alarm as two human beings who have been lying in the long grass get up, looking embarrassed as if we have disturbed them. They were probably sleeping.
‘I … I’m sorry,’ I stammer, but I am so taken aback that I can only stare. They look at me without much curiosity – a man with a long, dirty beard, perhaps in his fifties, and a woman with bushy, corkscrew hair, dark skin and rotten teeth. He is in badly fitting trousers and a T-shirt, and she wears a shapeless dress. They say nothing and turn away.
‘Wait!’ I say. ‘Come back!’
‘Do not bother them,’ says Hellyann. ‘They to not speak your language, and there is nothing you can to for them.’
I stand there in the long grass, watching them go. ‘Are they … Originals?’ I say, and Hellyann shakes her head.
‘Very unlikely. Probably created here on Anthalla from Original cells. Now, come – we must hurry.’ She strides off, and I follow her.
‘But … how?’ I say. ‘I mean, that’s not how babies are made!’
‘Not on Earth it isn’t!’ she calls back breezily. ‘But we abandoned all that centuries ago. Far too risky, unhygienic, trouplesome …’ She stops and turns, seeing my face, which I think is showing shock.
‘Ethan. You must unterstant. Everything is different here. Making babies, bringing up babies, haffing children, being with one another and staying with your children. It all requires something that most Anthallans do not possess.’ She puts her hand over her heart and then over mine. ‘You know. Love. A heart.’
‘But … why?’ I ask. ‘What are you all so … so scared of?’
She turns and starts walking again, but carries on speaking.
‘We are scared of feeling. And so we don’t. We haf replaced feeling with facts. Facts cannot hurt. They are not funny, or lovable … they just are. They are safe. They keep us well fed and peaceful. Facts haf extended our lives to maybe twice what they were a few centuries ago.’
‘To do what?’
She does not answer so I repeat my question, with more force. ‘To do what, Hellyann? What is the point of living if you don’t, you know, feel things? Love things? Love each other?’
She stops and looks at me with her big pale eyes. ‘With love comes hate, no?’
It is my turn to say nothing.
She goes on: ‘Look what hate does! We look at Earth people and find it remarkaple that you haf held yourselfs back with your constant lying and fighting and warring … So when the Big Burn testroyed almost everything, those who remained designed the Advisor. And now our lifes are governed by reason and reason alone.’
‘Except for—’ I began.
‘Except for a few off us. The Hearters we call ourselfs. Cursed to experience feelings in a world that does not require them.’
We walk on in silence till we arrive at the top of a small inclined field which leads down to a collection of tiny houses. There are Anthallans and humans gathered in the street, which I recognise from the 3D film that Hellyann showed us. At the end of the street is a raised stage.
The whole thing makes me think of a street party we had for the royal wedding a few years ago when we lived in Culvercot. A local band played songs that Gran said were ‘very rude’, although Tammy and I were too young to understand them. The sudden thought of home, and Gran and Tammy, stabs in my heart.
‘Do not be afrait,’ says Hellyann. ‘Nobody will notice you. They will think you are an exhibit.’
And so we make our way to the crowd. There are dozens, maybe hundreds, of hairy Anthallans walking about, talking quietly to one another. They are gathered on a walkway above the ground as well, looking down at the proceedings. The smell of them all together is almost overpowering.
Mingling among them are humans. Hellyann was right – I don’t stand out, but I can’t take my eyes off them. I want to stop them and talk to them, find out where they are from. I approach one or two, and say, ‘Hello? Hi!’ and I smile, but they look at me with glassy expressions and walk by. As for the Anthallans – they ignore me, more or less. So far as they are concerned, I am just another exhibit in their horrible human zoo.
Hellyann shakes her head when I try to approach another human. ‘You are wasting your time, Ee-fan. They haf not learned English. Their memories haf been modified, so—’
She is cut off when another Anthallan comes up to her and peers closely at her. He (or she – I’ve given up trying to tell) then reaches out, touches Hellyann’s face and says something before moving away.
‘I shoult not haf shaved,’ Hellyann says to me, stroking her cheek ruefully. ‘It is attracting attention … Shh. Look ofer there.’
A murmuring passes through the crowd. Everybody stops and slowly turns their attention to the stage which is about twenty metres away.
Then a chant starts, quietly at first, growing slightly louder.
Hoo … hoo … hoo … hoo … hoo … hoo …
It is the most haunting, chilling sound I think I have ever heard. I glance around nervously. Everywhere I look are the hairy Anthallans, plus one or two humans, all staring emptily ahead and chanting together.
Hoo … hoo … hoo … hoo … hoo … hoo …
Something is about to happen.
There seems to be no pleasure in what they are doing, in the chanting. This is not like a football chant, or people singing along at a concert, or even when people sing hymns in church. This is weird, and I cannot tell if they are enjoying it or not.
Anticipating my question, Hellyan leans in to me and murmurs, ‘This is like applause. Someone important is arriving.’
As if on cue, the hoo … hoo … hoo chant resolves into
a long hoooooooo … as a figure appears on the platform and I gasp in recognition.
It is the large Anthallan I saw in the cavern, who I think of as being called Dark Streak. She raises her arms and the hooos die down. She addresses the crowd and her voice is loud and clear. Everybody is silent, nodding and occasionally murmuring in what sounds like approving tones.
Dark Streak signals to another Anthallan standing at the side of the stage, and a large globe materialises – a 3D image like the one we saw in Mad Mick’s Mental Rentals, only this is bigger. It is an image of Earth. I recognise the landmasses of the Americas, and Africa …
Dark Streak revolves it, until it shows Australia, and it all becomes clear to me.
She is telling the story of Tammy’s capture!
There are a few sentences then Dark Streak leans forward to the crowd and points out her swollen eye, caused by being whacked by that guy who had stopped to change his tyre by the roadside.
The crowd goes: Hoooo!
Then the globe revolves and Dark Streak points to a little island. Britain, the scene of Dark Streak’s second attempt at capturing a human.
Hoo … hoo … hoo … hoo … hoo … hoo …
I know that something is about to happen. I don’t know what it is, but I have a feeling deep inside my stomach that I will not like it.
Hellyann leans in again. ‘Be warned, Ee-fan. You are about to see Ta-mee. The Anthallans up there are Assistant Advisors. They are a pit like your police. Do not give yourself away.’
I can feel my stomach turning over and I still don’t know what I’m going to do to get her back.
I’m supposed to be in charge.
I’m supposed to be doing my best!
And I have no idea what that might be. I do know, though, somewhere deep inside me, as I stand in a dusty street surrounded by stinking, hairy aliens and blank-faced cloned humans, that the next few minutes will decide whether or not we ever get our old life back again.
Hellyann is gripping my wrist at my side, and it’s probably good that she is because when Tammy appears on the platform, I might well shout out, or run forward or do something stupid. In the end, I just watch in agonising silence as I see Tammy mount the platform from the back, flanked by two Assistant Advisors.
