by Claire Merle
‘You’ve put me in a very awkward situation,’ the man said. ‘I’d been hoping we might avoid this.’
Jasper squinted through the darkness. The figure carried 34
a metal rod in one of his hands. A tingling sensation zinged up Jasper’s spine, intensifying as it entered his head and burst inside the back of his skul. He tried to lift his hand to the pain, but his arm hung by his side. He grappled to think; his thoughts were flying threads he couldn’t catch hold of.
Al that reached him was the music, reminding him of Ana, as it played out the concerto’s final bars.
35
4
Abduction
An overcast dawn bled through the high basement windows. Ana sat cross-legged at the bottom of the swimming pool holding her breath, a brick weight between her knees.
Eyes closed, she concentrated on the slow, steady beat of her heart. Her lungs burnt. She relaxed her arm muscles, her facial muscles, her chest. She counted. As the burn faded, thoughts of last night crowded in on her.
She pushed them away, determined not to remember She pushed them away, determined not to remember how Jasper had puled off the binding ribbon as though it was meaningless, how she’d searched for him until the concert hal and the bar were empty, then been forced to admit that he’d left without saying goodnight.
A line of bubbles drifted from her. She tried counting as a distraction, but it was no good. She couldn’t shut Jasper out. Even asleep he’d haunted her. She’d woken from a nightmare in the early hours of the morning. In her dream, she’d found herself standing over their matrimonial bed holding a knife. Blood had dripped from the serrated edge.
Confused, she’d looked down and seen the covers folded over Jasper’s form slick with liquid crimson.
She’d woken trembling and sweaty and hadn’t slept since.
Beneath the water, the air expired from Ana’s lungs. She 36
swam to the surface and hauled herself up the side of the pool. She dried off. Then, gripping the towel around her shoulders, she climbed the basement steps. The cold stone sent shivers through her feet. She headed for the main block of the house, halting at the end of the corridor.
Voices vibrated behind the thin kitchen wal. Male voices. A mixture of curiosity and anxiety ran through her. Her father never woke before seven-thirty, and he never had guests to stay, not even female ones.
Something important was going on.
A kettle whistled. Ana peered into the sunken living room. The flatscreen above the low sideboard flickered, room. The flatscreen above the low sideboard flickered, which meant her father had switched on his interface and would be coming back to watch. Seizing her chance, she hurried over the wooden floor and Turkish carpets, past the glass coffee table and her father’s photographs of strung-out rock stars. She reached the raised platform where her baby grand stood and stopped. Someone had opened the key cover. No one touched her piano, not even the cleaner.
Suddenly, she heard her father’s voice.
‘I don’t see,’ he said, growing louder and closer, ‘why they can’t ban reporters from the Communities altogether.’
Ana bounded up the open wood-slatted staircase. She didn’t want her father’s guest to see her in a bathing cos-tume and towel. And she was far more likely to find out what was going on if they didn’t know she was there.
Halfway up the stairs and out of sight, she paused to listen.
‘We’re going to have to put a couple of extra security guys out there,’ her father went on. ‘I don’t want them climbing ladders to see over the garden fence.’
37
Pressing her hand to her chest, Ana tried to steady the rapid rise and fal of her breathing.
‘Perhaps if you authorised a couple of ’em to wait out the front . . .’
‘Out of the question,’ Ashby said.
‘Out of the question,’ Ashby said.
‘Wel, maybe you should give ’em somethin’,’ the other man suggested. His lilting accent sounded familiar. ‘A photo,’ he continued, ‘or a quote to capture her shock when she finds out what happened. Then the reporters might let up.’
Her shock. The words rebounded in Ana’s head. She felt her knees weaken.
‘Here, it’s on,’ her father said.
The flatscreen volume went up. Both men stopped speaking.
‘. . . Jasper Taurel,’ the newsreader announced, ‘son of David Taurel, CEO of the giant pharmaceutics company, Novastra, was abducted last night . . .’
The words jumbled, and then Ana couldn’t hear them at al. She shuddered. Somewhere far away, much further it seemed than the living room surround-speak, the reporter continued. ‘. . . There is growing concern that his abduction is politicaly motivated. Novastra, patent-holders of the miracle drug Benzidox, are currently negotiating a bilion-pound deal with the government’s Mental Health Services – negotiations that have been the centre of great controversy over the last few weeks.’
Water dripped down Ana’s back and thighs, pooling on the step. Her swimming cap pressed against her temples.
38
Her legs were barely holding. Any moment now she would colapse on the stairs in her swimsuit.
One hand grasping her towel, she scrambled up. Her free palm slapped the smooth grey wal, steadying herself as she climbed.
‘Ariana?’ her father caled.
At the top of the stairs she barreled down the corridor.
The black and white photos of her playing the piano lit up as she ran into her bedroom. She locked herself inside the bathroom and huddled in the shower. The water came on automaticaly, spraying her from al directions.
Thick steam choked the air. She began to sob, anger and fear twisting inside her. How could the Wardens have let this happen? They were supposed to protect the Pures from the Crazies. And why did Jasper walk out of the concert early if he knew Crazies were trying to kidnap him?
He’d said he was in trouble. Why hadn’t he told his father or the Wardens?
Furious, she struck her foot against the shower wal. The thick glass shuddered in its frame. She should have forced Jasper to tel her what was going on in the car after the binding ceremony. She should have got up and folowed him out of the concert, instead of hesitating for a minute and losing him.
‘Ariana?’ The sharp timbre of her father’s voice carried through the bathroom door. She growled in frustration.
Her father was worse than the Board. He constantly analysed her for signs of instability.
‘Ariana, open the door.’ Warning laced his clipped tone.
She pressed her sobbing gasps down inside her, sniffed 39
and clambered to her feet, yanking off her swimming cap.
Her swimsuit squelched as she peeled it away and kicked it into a corner.
‘I’m coming,’ she said. She stepped out of the shower and put on her dressing gown. Her face itched with salty tears and chlorine. She washed it with cold water, then patted her skin dry. Besides her uneven breathing, the only sounds came from beyond the high bathroom window, birdsong and the wind whistling over the golf course at the back of the house. Finaly, once she’d regained some self-control, she unlocked the door.
Her father was perched on her beauty table by the win-dowsil. His square shoulders and shadowed face cut a dark silhouette against the fuzzy light. She forced herself to meet his gaze.
‘This is a setback,’ he said slowly, as though she might be hard of hearing. ‘Not a calamity.’
She snorted in disbelief.
‘The Wardens,’ he went on, ‘wil find Jasper. This wil al be fixed in time for the joining.’
Ana’s hands trembled with indignation. She wrung them together behind her back. His self-assurance when he had no control over the situation was unbearable.
‘You think al that concerns me is the joining? Jasper
‘You think al that concerns me is the joining? Jasper could be injured or dead.’
‘He’s been abducted, probably for m
oney, or to put pressure on his father about this Benzidox deal with the government. I’m not worried about Jasper and you shouldn’t be either. The only thing that concerns me about this,’ he said, 40
his voice growing softer, ‘the only thing that could turn it from a setback into a calamity . . .’ He paused. ‘Is you. ’
His look felt like an arrow of ice hitting her between the eyes. Ana shivered and hugged her dressing gown tighter around her body. Trust her father to make this al about her falibility.
‘I’m fine.’
‘It didn’t sound like it.’
‘Realy? What did it sound like?’ Her hand slipped around the iron sculpture on the table next to the bathroom door, tightly encircling the miniature partridge’s neck.
‘Like I might be a tiny bit upset?’
Her father straightened.
‘The Board wil be here in less than an hour. I suggest you aim for “deeply concerned, but staying positive for Jasper’s sake”.’
‘And how do I think staying positive wil help him?’ she asked.
Her father shot her a dangerous look. ‘Hold it together, Ariana. With something this big, the Board wil be keeping a close eye on you.’
Inwardly, she shuddered. But she didn’t alow the fear to register on her face. Ever since the Board declared her a Big3 Sleeper, they’d rigorously and unrelentingly examined her. She hated them. She hated how they’d managed to get inside her, residing in the part of herself that cooly observed everything she did and felt.
Her father stepped towards her.
‘Ariana,’ he said with uncharacteristic gentleness. ‘I didn’t say this would be easy. But you’re prepared. And you’ve 41
been through worse. The last thing Jasper would want is to come home and find the Board has declared you Active.’
Ana stared ahead, not giving him the satisfaction of meeting his look.
‘Wel,’ he said, pushing his hands into his blue dressing-gown pockets. ‘When you’re ready you can come down.
We need to go over what you are going to say to the Board.’
‘Great.’
Ashby retreated around the bed to the door. ‘Why don’t you wear your white blouse with the grey skirt?’
‘Fine.’
‘Fine.’
He paused on the threshold of her room and scrutinised her for a moment. Looking for cracks no doubt.
‘Good girl,’ he said finaly. Then he closed the bedroom door behind him.
Ana stood there glowering as his footsteps receded down the hal, furious with both of them. Slowly the anger dissolved and she sank to the floor. Sprawled out across the wooden boards, she felt as though her heart was splitting.
Not only for the Jasper that had been taken last night, but also for the boy that had vanished nearly three years ago when his brother died, whom she’d glimpsed last night on the way to the concert and who would probably be lost to her forever now. He’d changed overnight after Tom’s accident. What would become of him after hours or days in the hands of cruel, Crazy kidnappers?
In her mind’s eye she saw Jasper at Tom’s funeral.
Pasty, unshaved, his scowling eyes were sunk in grey half-moons.
At the end of the proceedings, after al the guests had gone, 42
he’d cornered Ana, as though he’d seen her sneak in and hide in the shadows at the back.
‘Helo, Ariana,’ he’d said. She’d frozen beneath his icy regard, afraid he would cal security and have her escorted out. She didn’t think she could stand any more humiliation than she’d been through in the last couple of weeks. ‘So, how are you?’ His voice sounded strange, weeks. ‘So, how are you?’ His voice sounded strange, metalic, like it could cut. She opened her mouth to say
‘fine’, then closed it again. Her immediate reaction was to answer as she would if the Board were asking. To make herself appear balanced, stable, shocked and upset in just the right proportions. But the sparks of hurt behind his stare incited her to respond with the truth.
‘I’m finding it hard to sleep,’ she said. ‘When I close my eyes I can’t stop spinning.’
‘Not so good then,’ he said. His mouth twisted upward.
She gazed at him. Close up, she noticed his eyes were set slightly far apart and his forehead was bigger than she remembered. She blushed. An un-joined Pure girl shouldn’t be alone with a Pure male, even if they were in a public place. And then her cheeks burnt even brighter.
The rules didn’t apply to her. She wasn’t Pure. Maybe that’s why he was talking to her like this.
‘You came to the funeral,’ he said quietly. She tried not to look puzzled. Was he feverish? Of course she’d come. Or perhaps he was saying she shouldn’t have come. After al, she and her father had not been sent notification of the ceremony.
‘I’m sorry.’ She swalowed hard. ‘I just wanted to see if you’re OK.’
43
‘And what’s the verdict?’
‘Not so good,’ she said, echoing his words.
He almost smiled. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t come after, you know . . .’ She knew at once he was referring to the know . . .’ She knew at once he was referring to the radio silence after she’d received her redone Pure test from the Board.
‘It was to be expected.’
He looked at her as though he felt sorry for her. She frowned. She didn’t want his sympathy.
‘How is your father’s hearing going?’ he asked.
‘Fine. His lawyers are confident the case wil be dismissed.’
So far, the prosecution had been unable to provide any explanation for how her father was supposed to have accessed the security codes to get on to the Board’s system and alter her test. Apparently, inputting data was easy, but only three executives on the Board were privy to the codes that alowed someone to alter files. It seemed they wouldn’t be able to prove what he’d done, but Ana knew he was guilty.
Jasper shoved his hands in his dark trouser pockets. He began to jiggle his left leg.
‘I was thinking.’ His words came with a puff of air like they were traveling at high velocity. ‘Once your father’s case is wrapped up, the Board wil be making their decision about what to do with you.’
Ana grimaced. She was wel aware of this fact and the way Jasper said it made her feel like a stray dog.
‘I’m going to tel them I want to go ahead with the binding.’
44
A wave of heat swept down through her head, her arms, her chest, her legs. ‘Why?’
‘Because I stil want to get to know you.’
‘But we couldn’t be joined. What would be the point?’
‘It’s not ilegal for a Pure to marry a Big3.’ Hearing him say ‘Big3’ made tears spring to Ana’s eyes. She forced them back.
‘You would have to leave the Community,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t . . .’
It must have been a trick of the light – a cloud passing over the sun outside – because his eyes grew overcast.
‘You’re not Active,’ he said. ‘You’ve lived in the Community for years without incident. Why shouldn’t you be alowed to stay?’
She stared at him as though he were mad. ‘Because my ilness could kick in at any moment. I might not even know it’s happening.’ Her hands trembled now at her sides. She couldn’t be sure if it was the hope or insanity of his sugges-tion that made her body shake.
‘You could be sixty, seventy, eighty years old. Who’s to say it’l ever happen?’
‘The Pure test says so,’ she whispered. Their eyes met.
Something strange flashed across his gaze. If she didn’t know better she would say he was suffering the onset of an ilness – bipolar or one of the many mood disorders an ilness – bipolar or one of the many mood disorders her father was making her learn about.
‘The Community is your home,’ he said. ‘You accepted my binding invitation. If the case is dismissed against your father, I don’t think you should be forced from your home 45
and made
to give up your future. Why should you pay for the Board’s mistake?’
‘You’re upset,’ she said, suddenly desperate to get away from him. She couldn’t think like this, couldn’t alow herself to hope there might be something else for her other than banishment to the City. Holding up the long hem of her skirt, she croaked, ‘I’m sorry about Tom.’
Then she ran down the hal and out into the mild June sun.
46
5
The Board
Ana picked herself up from the floor. She got dressed, went downstairs and her father griled her about Jasper’s abduction until the Board showed up. He reworded her responses, directing her performance like she was an actress in a play. She knew he was tough on her so that it would be easier to cope with the Board’s inquisition, but she couldn’t forgive him for transforming her emotions into something so calculated and remote.
When the doorbel rang, her father left her with instructions to play something pretty on the piano, while he let the Board in. She bashed out Chopsticks, he let the Board in. She bashed out Chopsticks, reminding herself that according to Jasper and some of the legal papers she’d read, the Board’s existence was precarious. Dozens of religious and activist groups constantly petitioned the government to get rid of it or pass new bils to reduce the Board’s over-bearing domination in the field of Mental Health.
A stick figure stooped in the entrance. Ana stopped playing and looked up. At the same moment, a woman appeared beside the man, seeming lumpish next to his beanpole frame. The man’s nose, lips and chin lay squashed against his face. The woman’s mole-eyes stared at Ana through 47
thick glasses, giving the impression of distance and altitude, as though she was looking down through a microscope.
Ana’s heart began to galop. She rose from her seat, descended the steps into the living room, and invited them to join her on the leather sofas around the coffee table. They entered stiffly. In unison, they clicked open their briefcases and set up their screens on the glass table. Ana fetched the prepared tea tray and biscuits from the kitchen. She wondered what her health and beauty teacher would say about the inner workings of this ugly couple, or why, for that matter, members of the Board were always so unat-tractive.
