Sarah nodded and patted the shabby bag beside her.
“They explained to you, right? That you’ll be going on a sleep-over?”
Sarah nodded, beaming, and pointed at me.
“Margy come too?”
“Perhaps. Only the most special children will be going, you know.”
Sarah laughed happily. I swallowed bile and tried not to curse the stupid driver who’d knocked her down all those years ago and left her like this. Tried not to curse her parents, who’d put her into care, sued the driver for his Child Permittance so they could replace her, and promptly moved away.
“Children…” The deputy headmistress. She waited for quiet. “This is the last time I will address you as such. This is a very special day for you all. After your Sorting, you will be legally adults.”
Except those of us who would scarcely any longer count as human. She didn’t mention that bit.
“Now, do your best, all of you. Doctor Vidran is here from the EGD to oversee your Sorting. Over to you, Doctor Vidran…”
Doctor Vidran gave a long and horrible speech about the numerous benefits Sorting brought to the human race. By the time he’d finished I was battling a powerful urge to go up and shove his laser pointer down his throat. I managed to stay in my seat and concentrated on trying to love this misguided specimen of humanity, to forgive him his part in what was probably going to happen to me. It was very difficult.
“…A few of you will of course have to be reAssigned, and it is important that we always remember the immense contribution the reAssigned make, in their own way...”
Finally he shut up and bade us turn our attention to our flickery desk screens for the Intellectual Tests. My happiness at his silence took me through Esperanto, English, Geography, History, ComputerScience, Biology, Chemistry and Physics without hitch, but then came Math.
I tried. I really, really tried. I tried until I thought my brain would explode and then I thought about Bane and my parents and I tried some more. But it was no good. No motivation on earth could enable me to do most of those sums without a calculator. I’d failed.
The knowledge was a cold, hard certainty in the pit of my stomach all the way through the Physical Tests after a silent, supervised lunch. I passed all those, of course. Sight, Hearing, Physiognomy and so on, all well within the acceptable levels. What about Jonathan Revan, a preKnown if ever there was one? Smart, Bane said, really smart, and Bane was pretty bright himself. Much good it’d do Jonathan. Much good it’d do me.
We filed into the gym when it was all over, sitting on benches along the wall. Bane guided Jonathan Revan to a free spot over on the boys’ side. In the hall through the double doors the rest of the school fidgeted and chatted. Once the end of semester assembly was over, they were free for four whole weeks.
Free. Would I ever be free again?
I’d soon know. One of the inspectors was wedging the doors open as the headmaster took his place on the stage. His voice echoed into the gym.
“And now we must congratulate our New Adults! Put your hands together, everyone!”
Dutiful clapping from the hall. Doctor Vidran stood by the door, clipboard in hand, and began to read names. A boy. A girl. A boy. A girl. Sorry, a young man, a young woman... Each New Adult got up and went through to take their seat in the hall. Was there a pattern…? No—randomized. No way to know if they’d passed your name or not.
My stomach churned wildly now. Swallowing hard, I stared across the gym at Bane. Jonathan sat beside him, looking cool as a cucumber, if a little determinedly so. He wasn’t in any suspense. Bane stared back at me, his face grim and his eyes fierce. I drank in the harsh lines of his face, trying to carve every beloved detail into my mind.
“They might call my name,” Caroline was whispering to Harriet. “They might. It’s still possible. Still possible…”
Over half the class had gone through.
Still possible, still possible, they might, they might call my name… my mind took up Caroline’s litany, and my desperate longing came close to an ache…
“Blake Marsden.”
A knot of anxiety inside me loosened abruptly—immediately replaced by a more selfish pain. Bane glared at Doctor Vidran and didn’t move from his seat. Red-faced, the deputy headmistress murmured in Doctor Vidran’s ear. Doctor Vidran looked exasperated.
“Blake Marsden, known as Bane Marsden.”
Clearly the best Bane was going to get. He gripped Jonathan’s shoulder and muttered something, probably bye. Jonathan found Bane’s hand and squeezed and said something back. Something like thanks for everything.
Bane shrugged this off and got up as the impatient inspectors approached him. No… don’t go, please… Yes! He was heading straight for me—but the inspectors cut him off.
“Come on… Bane, is it? Congratulations, through you go…” Bane resisted being herded and the inspector’s voice took on a definite warning note. “Now, you’re an adult, it’s your big day, don’t spoil it…”
“I just want to speak to…”
They caught his arms. He wrenched, trying to pull free, but they were strong men and there were two of them.
“You know no contact is allowed at this point. I’m sure your girlfriend will be through in a moment.”
“Fiancée,” snarled Bane, and warmth exploded in my stomach, chasing a little of the chill fear from my body. He’d read my story already.
“If, of course, your fiancée,” Doctor Vidran sneered the un-PC word from over by the door, “is a perfect specimen. If not, you’re better off without her, aren’t you?”
Bane’s nostrils flared, his jaw went rigid and his knuckles clenched until I thought his bones would pop from his skin. Shoulders shaking, he allowed the inspectors to bundle him across the gym towards Doctor Vidran. Uh oh…
But by the time they reached the doors he’d got sufficient hold of himself he just stopped and looked back at me instead of driving his fist into Doctor Vidran’s smug face. He seemed a long way away. But he’d never been going to reach me, had he?
‘Love you…’ he mouthed.
‘Love you…’ I mouthed back, my throat too tight for actual words.
Then a third inspector joined the other two and they shoved him through into the hall. And he was gone.
Gone. I might never see him again. I swallowed hard and clenched my fists, fighting a foolish frantic urge to rush across the gym after him…
“Really,” one inspector was tutting, “we don’t usually have to drag them that way!”
“Going to end up on a gurney, that one,” apologized the deputy headmistress, “So sorry about that…”
Doctor Vidran dismissed Bane with a wave of his pen and went on with the list.
“They might…” whispered Caroline, “they might…”
They might… they might… I might be joining Bane. I might… Please…
But they didn’t. Doctor Vidran stopped reading, straightened the pages on his clipboard and glanced at the other inspectors.
“Take them away,” he ordered.
He and the deputy headmistress swung round and went into the hall as though those of us left had ceased to exist. As we kind of had. The only decent thing to do about reAssignees was to forget them. Everyone knew that.
One of the inspectors took the wedges from under the doors and closed them. Turned the key, locking us apart.
My head rang. I’d thought I’d known, I’d thought I’d been quite certain, but still the knowledge hit me like a bucket of ice-cold water, echoing in my head. Margaret Verrall. My name. They’d not called it. The last tiny flame of hope died inside me and it was more painful than I’d expected.
One of the boys on the bench opposite—Andrew Plateley—started crying in big, shuddering gasps, like he couldn’t quite believe it. Harriet was hugging Caroline and Sarah was tugging her sleeve and asking what was wrong. My limbs felt heavy and numb, like they weren’t part of me.
Doctor Vidran’s voice came to us from the hall, just au
dible.
“Congratulations, adults! What a day for you all! You are now free to apply for breeding registration, providing your gene scans are found to be compatible. I imagine your head teacher would prefer you to wait until after your exams next semester, though!”
The school laughed half-heartedly, busy sneaking involuntary glances to see who was left in the gym—until an Inspector yanked the blinds down over the door windows. Everyone would be glad to have us out of sight so they could start celebrating.
“After successful registration,” the Doctor’s cheerful voice went on, “you may have your contraceptive implants temporarily removed. The current child permittance is one child per person, so each couple may have two. Additional child permittances can be bought; the price set by the
EGD is currently three hundred thousand Eurons, so I don’t imagine any of you need to worry about that.”
More nervous laughter from the hall. Normal life was through there. Exams, jobs, registering, having children, growing old with Bane… but I wasn’t in there with him. I was out here. My stomach fluttered sickly.
“ReAssignees, up you get, pick up your bags,” ordered one of the inspectors.
I got to my feet slowly and picked up my bag. My hands were shaking. Why did I feel so shocked? Had some deluded part of me believed this couldn’t really happen? Around me everyone was moving as though in a daze, except Andrew Plateley who just sat, rocking to and fro, sobbing. Jonathan said something quietly to him but he didn’t seem to hear.
The inspector shook Andrew’s shoulder, saying loudly, “Up.” He pointed to the external doors at the other end of the gym but Andrew leapt to his feet and bolted for the hall. Yanked at the doors with all his strength, sobbing, but they just rattled slightly under his assault and remained solidly closed. The inspectors grabbed him and began to drag him away, kicking and screaming. There was a sudden, suffocating silence from beyond those doors, as everyone tried not to hear his terror.
Doctor Vidran’s voice rushed on, falsely lighthearted, “And I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that you can only register with a person of your own ethnicity. Genetic mixes are, of course, not tolerated and all such offspring will be destroyed. And as you know, all unregistered children automatically count as reAssignees from birth, but I’m sure you’re all going to register correctly so none of you need to worry about anything like that.”
They’d got Andrew outside and the inspectors were urging the rest of us after him. It seemed a terribly long way, my bag seemed to weigh a very great deal and I still felt sick. I swallowed again, my hand curving briefly, unseen, into the Fish. Be strong.
“And that’s all from me, though your headmaster has kindly invited me to stay for your end of semester presentations. Once again, congratulations! Let’s hear it for Salperton’s New Adults…!”
The school whooped and cheered heartily behind us. A wave of crazy, reality-defying desperation swept over me—this must be how Andrew had felt. As though, if I could just get into that hall, I’d have the rest of my life ahead of me too…
Reality waited outside in the form of a little EGD minibus. Imagine a police riot van that mated with a tank. Reinforced metal all over, with grilles over the windows. Reaching the hall would achieve precisely nothing. So get a grip, Margo.
I steadied Sarah as she scrambled into the minibus and passed my bag up to her. She busied herself lifting my bag and hers onto the overhead luggage racks, beaming with pride at her initiative.
“Thanks, Sarah.” A soft white ball wandered into my vision—there was Jonathan Revan, the last left to get in after me. I almost offered help, then thought better of it.
“Jonathan, isn’t it? Just give a shout if you want a hand.”
“Thanks, Margaret.” His eyes stared rather eerily into the minibus. Or rather, through the minibus, for they focused not at all. “I’m fine.”
His stick came to rest against the bus’s bumper and his other hand reached out, tracing the shape of the seats on each side, then checking for obstructions at head height. Just as the EGD inspectors moved to shove him in, he stepped up into the bus with surprising grace. I climbed in after him just as the school fire alarms went off, the sound immediately muffled by the inspectors slamming the doors behind me.
“Bag?” Sarah was saying to Jonathan, holding out her hand.
“Sorry?”
“Bag,” I told him. “Would you like her to put your bag up?”
“Oh. Yes, thank you. What’s your name?”
“Sarah.”
“Sarah. Thanks.”
Bet he wouldn’t have let me put his bag up for him! Sarah sat down beside Harriet, so I took a seat next to Jonathan. The first pupils were spilling out into the schoolyards and I craned my neck to try and catch a glimpse of Bane. A last glimpse.
“Any guesses who set that off?” said Jonathan dryly.
“Don’t know how he’d have done it, but yeah, I bet he did.”
The minibus began to move, heading for the gates, and I twisted to look out the rear window, through the bars. Nothing…
We pulled onto the road and finally there he was, streaking across the schoolyard to skid to a halt in front of the gates just as they slid closed. Bane gripped them as though he wanted to shake them, rip them off their hinges or throw them open…
The minibus went around a corner and he was gone.
***+***
2
THE FACILITY
There was a deathly hush in the bus as the familiar streets of Salperton-under-Fell glided past for the last time. This couldn’t really be happening… No, it was happening and
I’d just have to deal with it. I kept seeing Bane, gripping those gates. My heart ached for him already and my head swam with fear. What might he do? Be careful, please, please be careful… you’ve got away with things before, but you wouldn’t get away with this.
You can go to Bane, you know, I told my guardian angel. I really don’t mind. I always have the impression his angel needs all the help it can get… But Angel Margaret wasn’t going anywhere and a selfish part of me was glad. Just now, I was probably going to need all the spiritual help I could get.
“I don’t think I’ve really met you properly,” Jonathan said, eventually breaking the silence. “I’m Jonathan Revan.”
“Margaret Verrall. But you seem to know that already?”
“Bane’s marvelous phone. Your voice is your ring tone.”
“Huh. Didn’t know that. What a sneaky fiancé I have.”
But I was neither offended nor surprised. Fiancé. The word felt right in my mouth and that warmth was back, thawing some more of the ice cube currently masquerading as my stomach. If only we’d had more time. If only I’d realized he didn’t realize… No, no if onlys. If onlys were a complete waste of time and as of half an hour ago my time had just become very precious.
The minibus barreled along, following the railway up out of the valley of Salperton and into the Fellest. The scant winter snows were gone but spring hadn’t really begun. The ever-present mist shrouded the looming trees; shadowed the blood-soaked soil beneath them. Some of the simpler children—would-be adults—began to fidget, growing nervous, and Sarah reached across the aisle to pull on my sleeve.
“Story? Story, Margy?”
I sighed, drawn from my own thoughts.
“All right. Does everyone want a story?” There was a chorus of assent. “Okay, then. This is a story about the Fells or as we now know it, the Fellest. Now, almost a hundred years ago, there was a farmer called Bill who kept sheep, and his parents before him kept sheep, and their parents before them kept sheep. He had a family and a black and white sheep dog called Rex. There were a lot of farmers like him on the Fells and on the day this story begins they all received a letter from the EuroGov.”
Some of my captive audience hissed and booed. I shot a quick look at the sealed off cab, but the inspectors went on chatting amongst themselves, so if there were microphones, they weren’t switch
ed on.
“Bill’s letter said he had to accept a subsidy—that’s money—to have trees planted all over his land. Because the Fells were the place where the reForestation program—which was necessary to take all the carbon out of the air and save the planet—was to start.
“But no one in the world had any money, largely because they’d run out of oil. Not the USNA Bloc, the USSA Bloc, the African Free States, nobody. Certainly not the EuroBloc. Nor any jobs. Yet the EuroBloc offered Bill too little money to live on. So Bill can’t possibly accept this subsidy, can he? Not with a wife and four children.”
“Four! Four? Is he rich?”
“Yes, four, and no, he’s very poor, but people were allowed to have as many children as they wanted, in those days. Anyway, Bill says thanks, but I’ll keep my sheep. So does the EuroGov send another letter offering a fair price? No. They send a letter saying take the subsidy or else. In a much longer and more boring way, but that’s what the letter said. But can Bill take it?”
“NO!”
“No. The EuroGov is mad, he thinks, I’ll write to Parliament and get them to sort it out. So Bill and the other farmers write to Parliament.”
“What’s Parliament, Margo?”
“Parliament was a group of people who used to run the department back when it was an independent kingdom,” I explained. “All the adults would choose these people to run the country on behalf of the King.”
“Why didn’t he run it?”
“It was too much work for just him. Anyway, this was actually the moment when everyone discovered we weren’t a country any more, just a department of the EuroBloc.
“Parliament couldn’t do a thing, you see, and when they tried, the EuroGov dissolved them—that means they sacked them and sent them home—and locked up the King. And do you know what they did to Bill and the farmers then?”
“They killed them all!” cried Andrew Plateley.
“Not quite all, but unfortunately you’re getting close. Bill’s out tending his sheep one day when he sees this huge machine crawling relentlessly over the Fells, tearing up the ground and leaving rows and rows of saplings behind it.
I Am Margaret Page 2
