I Am Margaret

by Corinna Turner

  PRAISE FOR I AM MARGARET

  Great style – very good characters and pace. Definitely a book worth reading, like The Hunger Games.

  EOIN COLFER (Author of Artemis Fowl)

  An intelligent, well-written and enjoyable debut from a young writer with a bright future.

  STEWART ROSS (Author of The Soterion Mission)

  This book invaded my dreams.

  SR MARY CATHERINE BLOOM OP

  ***+***

  I AM MARGARET

  CORINNA TURNER

  US Edition

  Copyright 2014 Corinna Turner

  ISBN: 978-1-910806-07-4 (ebook)

  Also available as a Paperback

  (ISBN: 978-1-910806-06-7)

  ***+***

  US Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  ***+***

  Table of Contents

  Map of Great Salperton EGD Facility

  Chapter 1 – Sorting

  Chapter 2 – The Facility

  Chapter 3 – Inspection

  Chapter 4 – ReAssigness

  Chapter 5 – Math Problems

  Chapter 6 – Uncle Peter

  Chapter 7 – The Latter Years of Peter Rabbit

  Chapter 8 – The Boy

  Chapter 9 – The Pursuit of the Male of the Species

  Chapter 10 – The First Letter

  Chapter 11 – The Competition

  Chapter 12 – The Mortifying Business of the Night

  Chapter 13 – The 1001 Lives of Annabel Salford

  Chapter 14 – Easter

  Chapter 15 – The Card

  Chapter 16 – Operation Camera Info

  Chapter 17 – The Typing Device

  Chapter 18 – All or None

  Chapter 19 – 100,000 Words of Truth

  Chapter 20 – The PostSort Novel

  Chapter 21 – Simple Truth

  Chapter 22 – The Point of No Return

  Chapter 23 – The Silent Crocodile

  Chapter 24 – Wearmfell Factory

  Chapter 25 – Waiting

  Chapter 26 – Escape

  Chapter 27 – I Am Margaret

  Chapter 28 – Dismantlement

  Chapter 29 – Rayle’s Pass

  Other Books by Corinna Turner

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Connect with Corinna Turner

  Book 2 – Sneak Peak!

  Boring Legal Bit

  ***+***

  “The sheriffs have told me that I shall die on Friday next; and now I feel the frailty of mine own flesh which trembleth at these news, although my spirit greatly rejoiceth. Therefore for God’s sake pray for me and desire all good folks to do the same.”

  St Margaret Clitherow, York, 1586

  ***+***

  1

  SORTING

  The dragon roared, its jaws so close to Thane’s head that

  I waggled the page gently in the air, waiting for my writing to dry. One final, blank double spread remained. Good. I’d made the little book myself.

  The ink was dry. I turned to that last page and found the place on the computer printout I was copying from…

  he felt his eardrums burst. But the sword had done its work and, eviscerated, the beast began to topple.

  Thane rolled frantically to his feet and ran. The huge body obliterated where he’d been lying, but Thane wasn’t interested in that. He kept right on running to where Marigold was struggling to free herself.

  “That’s the last time I go riding without my spurs!” she told him. “I could’ve cut my way out of here by now…”

  Thane ignored her grumbles. He couldn’t hear properly anyway. He whipped out a dagger and freed her.

  “Marigold?” He could hardly hear himself. “Are you all right?”

  “Oh, I’m fine. At least I had my rosary.”

  Thane thought of all the things he wanted to say to her. The way he felt about her, he wanted to do everything just right. Could he get down on one knee without losing his balance and would he be able to hear what she said in reply…?

  Then Marigold’s arms wrapped around him like vines around their supporting tree. And when she kissed him, he knew the answer to all his questions was a heartfelt,

  ‘Yes.’

  I wrote the last word with great care and put the lid on the pen. All done. I smiled as I pictured Bane reading the tale. Where are the slain dragons? Where are the rescued maidens? he would complain after reading my stories. Just this once, in this tale just for him, there were all the dragons he could desire. But only one maiden.

  A funny way to declare your love, but I couldn’t leave it unsaid. And if I did pass my Sorting… well, we were both eighteen, we’d be leaving school at the end of the year and would be free to register, so perhaps it was time we were finally honest with each other.

  Picking up the printout of the story, I ripped it into small pieces and threw it in the bin, then closed the handwritten book, slipping it into the waterproof pouch I’d made for it. On my aged—but no less loved for that—laptop, I called up the file and pressed ‘delete’. Bane’s story was his alone.

  The pouch went into my bag as I checked its contents again. Clothes, underwear, sewing things, my precious bookReader—filled to capacity—and what little else was permitted. No laptop, alas, and no rosary beads for Margaret in this all too real world. I touched the waterproof pouch—must warn Bane not to show the story around. A dangerous word had slipped in there, near the end. A little bit of myself.

  The contents of the bag were all present and correct, as they’d been since last night. Zipping it up, I stood for a moment, looking around. This had been my room since I was born and how I wanted to believe I’d be back here this evening, unpacking my bag again… But I’d never been very good at fairy tales. Happy Ever After didn’t happen in real life. Not while you were alive.

  I kicked at my long purple skirt for a moment, then picked up my jacket and slipped it on. Sorting day was a home clothes day. No need for school uniform at the Facility. I was packed and ready—packed, anyway—and couldn’t delay any longer. I put my bag over my shoulder and headed downstairs.

  My parents were waiting in the hall. I almost wished they weren’t. That they were off with Kyle—gone. Mum’s face was so pale.

  “Margo, you can’t seriously intend to go today…” Her voice was hoarse with desperation. “You know the chances of… of…”

  “I know the chances of me passing are very small.” With great effort I kept my voice from shaking. “But you know why I have to go.”

  “It’s not too late…” Bleak hopelessness in Dad’s voice. “The Underground would hide you…”

  I had to get out of there. I had to get out before they wore down my resolve.

  “It’s too late to teach me to be selfish now,” I snapped, switching automatically from Latin to English as I opened the front door and stepped out onto the step.

  “Margo…”

  I turned to meet Mum’s embrace and I wanted to cling to her like a little girl, except that was how she was clinging to me. I stroked her hair and tried to comfort her. “It’ll be all right, Mum, really,” I whispered. “I might even pass, you know.”

  She released me at last, stepped back, mopping her eyes—trying to be strong for me.

  “Of course. You may pass. Keep the faith,
darling.” Her voice shook; right here, right now, she could hardly get the familiar words out.

  “Keep the faith,” said Dad, and his voice shook too.

  I cupped my hand and made the Fish with finger and thumb, behind my bag so the neighbors couldn’t see.

  “Keep the faith.” It came out like an order. I blushed, smiled apologetically, took one last look at their faces and hurried down the steps.

  The EuroBloc Genetics Department inspectors were waiting at the school gates to check off our names. I joined the line, looking into the boys’ schoolyard for Bane. A hotel car pulled up and a white-faced woman helped a tall boy from the back seat—who was he? His hair was like autumn leaves… oh. He held a long thin white cane with a soft ball on one end. Blind. My insides clenched in sympathy. What must it be like to have no hope at all?

  “Name?” demanded the inspector on the boys’ gate.

  “Jonathan Revan,” said the boy in a very cold, collected voice. “And wouldn’t it be an awful lot simpler if my parents just dropped me at the Facility?”

  The inspector looked furious as everyone sniggered their appreciation at this show of courage.

  “Name?” It was my turn. The blind boy was passing through the gates, his shoulders hunched now, as though to block the sound of the woman’s weeping. A man was shepherding her back to the car.

  “Margaret Verrall.”

  The woman marked off my name and jerked the pen towards the girls’ yard.

  “In.”

  Inside, I headed straight for the wall between the schoolyards. Bane was there, his matte black hair waving slightly in the breeze. His mother used to keep it short, to hide its strangeness, but that’d only lasted ‘til he was fast enough to outrun her. The inspector on the boys’ gate was shooting a suspicious glance at him.

  “Looking forward to being an adult?” Bane asked savagely, watching Jonathan Revan picking his way across the schoolyard, his stick waving sinuously in front of him. Something clicked.

  “That’s your friend from out at Little Hazleton, isn’t it? The preKnown, who’s never had to come to school?”

  “Yeah.” Bane’s face was grim.

  “Did you hear what he said to the inspector? He’s got some nerve.”

  “He’s got that, all right. Shame he can’t see a thing.”

  “He’d have to see considerably more than a thing to pass.”

  “Yeah.” Bane kicked the wall, scuffing his boots. “Yeah, well, I always knew there was nothing doing.”

  “It was nice of you to be friends with him.”

  Bane looked embarrassed and kicked the wall even harder.

  “Well, he’s got a brain the size of the EuroBloc main server. He’d have been bored out of his mind with only the other preKnowns to talk to.”

  Oh no, perhaps I flattered myself, but... if Bane was preoccupied with Jonathan Revan... he hadn’t realized I was in danger! I should’ve said something—months, years ago. But no one talked about their Sorting. How could he not have realized? We’d known each other since, well, forever. He’d always been there, along with Mum and Dad, Kyle, Uncle Peter…

  “Bane, I need to talk to you.”

  He looked around, his brown eyes surprised. He sat on the wall and rested his elbows on the railings.

  “Now? Not… after our Sorting?”

  Were his thoughts running along the same lines as mine earlier? I sat down as well, which brought our faces very close.

  “Bane… it may not be very easy to talk… after.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  “What d’you mean?”

  “Bane…” There was no easy way to say this. “Bane, I probably won’t pass.”

  His face froze into incredulous disbelief—he really hadn’t realized. He’d thought me Safe. Bane, I’m so sorry…

  “You… of course you’ll pass! You’re as smart as Jon, you can keep the whole class spellbound, hanging on your every word…”

  “But I can’t do math to save my life.”

  There was a long, sick silence.

  “Probably literally,” I added, quite unnecessarily.

  Bane remained silent. He saw the danger now. You only had to fail one single test. He looked at me at last and there was something strange in his eyes, something it took me a moment to recognize. Fear.

  “Is it really that bad, your math?”

  “It’s almost non-existent,” I said as gently as I could. “I have severe numerical dyslexia, you know that.”

  “I didn’t realize. I just never…” There was guilt in his eyes, now; guilt that he’d gone through life so happy and confident in his physical and mental perfection that he’d never noticed the shadow hanging over me. “Didn’t Fa… your Uncle Peter… teach you enough?”

  “Uncle Peter managed to teach me more than anyone else ever has, but I’m actually not sure it’s possible to teach me enough.”

  “I just never thought…”

  “Of course you didn’t think about it. Who thinks about Sorting unnecessarily? Anyway, this is for you.” I put the pouch into his hand. “Don’t let anyone see it until you’ve read it; I don’t think you’ll want to flash it around.”

  His knuckles whitened around it.

  “Margo, what are you doing here? If you think you’re going to fail! Go, go now, I’ll climb over and distract the inspector; the Underground will hide you…”

  “Bane, stop, stop! I can’t miss my Sorting, don’t you understand? There was never any way I was going to get out of it—no one’s allowed to leave the department with preSort age children and after today I’ll show up as a SortEvader on every system in the EuroBloc…”

  “So go underground!” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “You of all people could do that in an instant!”

  “Yes, Bane, I could. And never mind spending the rest of my life running, can’t you see why I, of all people, cannot run?”

  He slammed his fist into the wall and blood sprung up on his knuckles.

  “This is because of the Underground stuff, isn’t it? Your family are in too deep.”

  “Bane…” I captured his hand before he could injure it any more. “You know the only way the sanctuary will stay hidden is if the house isn’t searched and if I run, what’s the first thing they’ll do?”

  “Search your house.”

  “Search my house. Arrest my parents. Lay a trap for the next Underground members who come calling. Catch the priests when they come. You know what they do to the priests?”

  “I know.” His voice was so quiet I could hardly hear him.

  “And you want that to happen to Uncle Peter? Cousin Mark? How can you suggest I run?”

  He said nothing. Finally he muttered, “I wish you’d given this stuff up years ago…”

  Bane had never understood my faith; he knew it would probably get me killed one day. He’d tried his hardest to talk me out of it before my sixteenth birthday, oh, how he’d tried. But he accepted it. He might not understand the faith angle, but getting killed doing something to piss off the EuroGov was right up his street.

  The school bell began to ring and he looked up again, capturing my eyes.

  “I suppose then you wouldn’t have been you,” he murmured. “Look, if you don’t pass…” his voice grew firmer, “if you don’t pass, I’ll have to see what I can do about it. Because... well… I’ve been counting on marrying you for a very long time, now, and I’ve no intention of letting anything stop me!”

  My heart pounded—joy, but no surprise. How we felt about each other had been an unspoken secret for years.

  “Anything, such as the entire EuroBloc Genetics Department? Don’t bite off more than you can chew, Bane.”

  He didn’t answer. He just slipped an arm through the railings and snagged me, his lips coming down on mine. My arms slid through the railings, around his strong back, my lips melted against his and suddenly the world was a beautiful, beautiful place and this was the best day of my life.

  We didn’t b
reak apart until the bell stopped ringing.

  “Well,” I whispered, looking into his brown eyes, “now I can be dismantled happily, anyway.”

  His face twisted in anguish.

  “Don’t say that!”

  He kissed me again, fiercely.

  “Don’t worry…” His hands cupped my face and his eyes glinted. “Whatever happens, don’t worry. I love you and I will not leave you there, you understand?”

  Planting one last kiss on my forehead, he swung his bag onto his shoulder and sprinted across the schoolyard, the pouch still clasped in his hand. I watched him go, then picked up my own bag and followed the last stragglers through the girls’ door.

  The classroom was unusually quiet, bags and small cases cluttering the aisles. Taking my place quickly, I glanced around. There were only two preKnowns in the class. Harriet looked sick and resigned, but Sarah didn’t understand about her Sorting or the Facility or anything as complex as that. The known Borderlines were every shade of pale. The Safe looked sober but a little excited. The pre-Sorting ban on copulation would be gone tomorrow. No doubt the usual orgy would ensue.

  Bane’s last words stuck in my mind. I knew that glint in his eye. I should’ve urged him much more strenuously not to do anything rash. Not to put himself in danger. Now it was too late.

  “I saw you and Bane,” giggled Sue, beside me. “Jumping the gun a little, aren’t you?”

  “As if you haven’t done any gun jumping yourself,” I murmured. Sue just giggled even harder.

  “Margy…? Margy…?”

  “Hi, Sarah. Have you got your bag?”