by Claire Merle
forge a getaway.
So the folowing morning Ana gathered her things –
clothes her father had brought from home, shampoo, soaps, creams – and waited for the nurse’s usual examination.
Then in the knowledge that no one would come by until lunch, she put on her rucksack and hobbled to her door.
The corridor beyond lay empty, a lift visible at the end.
Through the wal came the burble of voices – the nurse with her next patient. Gently, Ana clicked open her door and shuffled to the lift. The lift opened as soon as she caled it. She hopped inside and rode down two floors, exiting into a ground-floor lobby. On her left lay a reception desk, on her right several sofas scattered around two coffee tables.
Directly ahead stood floor-to-ceiling glass windows with a view on to a clean suburban street. Her heart began to flap inside her chest. She hadn’t considered that the hospital might be inside one of the Communities. She’d never get through a checkpoint without ID. But then a man in a ratty coat and strange bald patches on his head (a side effect of Benzidox) trudged past. She exhaled with relief.
‘Can I help you?’ the receptionist asked. Meeting the woman’s gaze, Ana smiled and continued advancing towards the glass doors.
‘Thanks ever so much for everything,’ she said. ‘Don’t want to keep my father waiting.’
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‘Is he here?’
As though on cue, a chauffeur-driven saloon cruised by.
Ana jerked an arm towards the passing car and pushed through the doors. Outside, she shambled into a driveway and hid behind a wal.
In the ten days she’d spent bedridden, spring had flourished. Green buds adorned the trees. The day smelt of muddy puddles and raindrops. A promise of summer breezed on the air.
After a couple of minutes, when no one came looking for her, Ana asked a passerby for directions to the Tube and began to navigate her way across London, scrambling over ticket barriers, or pushing through after men and women who had passes.
It had been twelve days since she and Cole were supposed to meet at the Forest Hil flat. It was unreasonable, and considering he was wanted for the minister’s murder, near impossible, but she couldn’t stop hoping she would find him there, waiting for her.
In the ground-floor window of the Forest Hil house a girl bounced a baby. Ana rang the bel. No one came.
She tried again. Then knocked. Eventualy, a woman with wiry hair and glazed eyes emerged. Ana explained how she’d stayed in the house a fortnight ago with friends, how she hadn’t been able to return when she was supposed to, and maybe they’d left a note or forwarding address. The woman shrugged. A smel of incense floated off her loose-flowing djelaba. People incense floated off her loose-flowing djelaba. People came and went, she said, came and went. And who knew where they came from, or where they went to?
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Disappointed, Ana took the south-eastern line to Charing Cross, barely able to lift her feet, ribs throbbing. It was beginning to dawn on her that if Cole had heard the news of her release from ‘abductors’ and subsequent return home, if he hadn’t seen Ana’s long-haired double stepping from her father’s car with his own eyes, he might believe she’d chosen to return to the Highgate Community rather than meet him. And if he was hiding in the Project she didn’t stand a chance of finding him and putting him straight.
At Charing Cross she rode seven stops up the northern line. She surfaced into a crowded high street. Colourful buildings rose above a sea of churning interface projections. Cradling her ribs, Ana tramped towards Camden Lock railway bridge. It seemed as though she’d lived a whole other life since she’d seen the ethereal street performers rise from the crowds, backlit by an orange sun; since she’d sheltered from the wind under a fast-food hut and Mickey had scavenged her noodles.
And now, even as she hunted the Gilgamesh building for the wind-chimes stal and cut through backstreets and warehouses, she knew Cole, Lila and Nate were long gone. In the back of her mind, she was hoping someone might see her and inform Cole she’d come looking for him. Then perhaps he would try to make contact.
She found Mickey on a moored barge. He told her what she already knew. The Winters had packed up two weeks ago and hadn’t returned.
At sunset, she found the bench where she and Lila had eaten their Caesar salads on Ana’s second day out in the 342
City. She drooped down, exhausted, the ache in her chest as much about Cole as a fractured rib.
Darkness inched over the canal. A figure appeared on the footbridge. He stood observing her for several minutes.
She tried to ignore him. Eventualy, he clapped across the cobbled stones.
‘Time to go, Ariana,’ he said.
She sighed. She’d wondered if her father would have a way of tracking her, even without her interface.
‘I’m not going home.’
‘Of course you are.’
She slumped, knowing he was right. She had no money.
No ID. Nowhere else to go.
*
Ana silenced her alarm before sinking back into her pilows.
Her room smelt of snowdrops and clothes freshly puled from a tumble dryer. Her washed hair felt silky against the back of her neck. In the hal, her father’s antique clock ticked. Its hourly chiming had woken her several times in the night. After only two and a half weeks away, times in the night. After only two and a half weeks away, the house seemed alien to her. Her room no longer felt like her room, even though she’d been back now for four days.
She listened for sounds of her father stirring. Once certain the alarm hadn’t disturbed him, she threw on a sweater and trainers, stuffed the cash she’d hidden under her pilow in her sock, and crept downstairs.
In the living room, she inched open the French windows which led on to the patio and stepped into the twilight.
A scent of cut grass drifted over the back fence from the 343
golf course. A fire-escape ladder spanned the house’s external brick wal, up to the roof. Ana turned her back on the stone table and chairs and the terracotta pots clustering around the patio edges, and mounted. As she climbed, she had to stop every few rungs to catch her breath and rest her ribs. Then she hauled herself on to the gravel roofing two storeys above the garden.
From where she crouched she could see the whole street; the mock Tudor and opulent Renaissance homes on either side; the sycamore trees lining the pavement; the road bending into Hampstead Lane. Other than herself, only one thing moved. His breath made vapour clouds on the dawn air. He stretched his arms and drew a watch face on his wrist. Since her return, Ana’s father had been employing a security guard to keep an eye on
‘the house’ at night. Now she would discover whether the guard had a replacement.
Someone who discreetly watched over her during the day.
day.
She crept to the furthest edge of the flat roof and lay down on her front, straining her ribs. If she stretched, she could see a smal, indistinct patch of brick and metal spikes.
The wall. She had seven days until she and Jasper would make their declarations; nine until they were supposed to be joined – enough time for her ribs to heal and for her to figure out a way over the wal. Once inside the Project, she could only hope that a lone girl wouldn’t be interpreted as a threat, and those patroling the perimeters would listen to why she was there, rather than attacking. Her chest tightened at the prospect of being inside the Enlightenment Project. She might be able to convince them to let her stay, but how would she convince them to alow her and 344
Cole to leave? What if Cole hadn’t sought refuge there at al, and the sect wouldn’t let her go? Stop it, she told herself. You can’t believe anything the Pures taught you about the Project. She had to trust Cole. Cole had been raised there.
How bad could it be? The folowers might be strange, but they wouldn’t try to brainwash or imprison her.
A metal clang cut through Ana’s ruminations. The gat
es at the bottom of the driveway buzzed open and the Warden Dombrant entered.
Ana hurriedly crawled back to the ladder. Gravel dug into her knees. Leaning on her arms put pressure on her ribs. The dul ache turned into smal jabbing knives. She stopped to catch her breath. Behind her, Dombrant crunched up the drive and greeted his felow Warden.
As the pain in Ana’s chest abated, she swung over the roof ledge on to the ladder. She clambered down quickly.
Back inside, she clicked the French windows shut. A high-pitched whistle came from the kitchen. She spun around.
‘Tea?’ her father said. He stood in the kitchen entrance, a smile twitching on his lips. She frowned, annoyed that after everything she’d been through, he’d managed to catch her out so easily. ‘What are you wearing?’ he asked.
‘Recognise any of it?’
‘Hardly. Floppy rainbow jumper and leggings. Not exactly fashionable around here.’
‘No, but Mum never made it into the Community, did she?’
Her father didn’t react. He was so much better at this than her.
‘Up early spying on me, are you?’ she said.
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‘I’ve got a meeting.’
She traced her fingers over the closed, silky top of her grand piano; his idea of compensation for a dead mother, for taking her away from the countryside and bringing her here.
here.
‘What would you have done, if she’d lived? How were you going to get us al accepted into the Community? Did you make a deal?’
Her father stared at her across the twelve-foot gap. The skin on her forehead itched. Even now he intimidated her.
Even now she yearned for his approval. She looked away.
Beyond the French windows, rays of a low, golden sun skimmed the top of the fence.
‘You think I’m doing this al for me?’ he asked.
‘Enlighten me.’
‘For heaven’s sake, Ariana. There’s nothing on the disc.’
Something in his voice made her stop. She turned to see whether the lie was written in his eyes.
‘There’s no way you could know that,’ she said. Or was there? Had her father had Jasper’s pendant al along?
Had he discovered the evidence?
He strode into the living room. ‘Jasper never checked the material,’ he said. ‘How could he have? You’d have to have a PhD in genetics to understand the first thing about genetic genome mutation. His brother Tom . . . had problems.’
‘Problems,’ Ana repeated. She clenched her teeth, determined not to let her father’s lies mess with her mind.
‘If that were true,’ she said, ‘if Tom was delusional then it proves the whole foundation of a Pure being infalible is flawed, and the Pure test is a lie.’
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‘The Pures,’ Ashby said, ‘are al that’s holding this society from total anarchy. Would you prefer the total chaos that is sweeping through the US, Canada and half of Europe?’
‘So you’re not denying it. The Pure test is simply a means to an end?’
Ashby sighed and shook his head. ‘I know you’d like to believe you’re not carrying your mother’s ilness. I can understand how you must want that to be true, how hard it must have been to discover you were a Sleeper.’
‘No. You’re manipulating me.’ But the doubt inside Ana began to grow like a larva spinning its cocoon; the fear a silky lump of fibrous thread, strangling her.
‘The truth hurts,’ he said.
Inwardly, she tore with frustration. She wouldn’t believe him. Wouldn’t listen. If Tom Taurel hadn’t found out something potentialy harming to the Pure tests, her father wouldn’t have gone to al this trouble to stop him; to stop Jasper.
‘You can’t keep me here under round-the-clock surveilance for ever,’ she said bitterly. ‘Do you think I’m so weak I won’t be able to resist the comforts and luxuries of the Community? How many days, weeks, months wil it take in your expert opinion, before I grow months wil it take in your expert opinion, before I grow to feel so safe and pampered that I’m unwiling to swop privilege and physical comfort for freedom?’
Ashby ran a hand through his blond hair. ‘You’l get to choose, Ariana. When you’re ready.’
‘And you decide when I’m ready.’
‘You’ve been through a lot the last few weeks. Your joining ceremony, the event you’ve anticipated for three years, 347
is in nine days. It’s hardly the time to make rash decisions you wil regret for the rest of your life.’
‘At least it would be my life and my regrets.’
His eyes narrowed.
‘Sorry, Ariana.’
‘What if Jasper starts remembering? Maybe tomorrow, maybe in six months. You think he’l stay quiet about what you’ve done to him?’
‘You’l be joined. You’l be able to explain it.’
Her whole body seemed to pinch shut with loathing.
‘Thank goodness it wasn’t left to you to teach me about love,’ she said. ‘I would have been the saddest, emptiest person in the whole world.’
‘I think that’s enough of the dramatics for one day.’
‘I’l desist. Even if Jasper agrees to the joining, I’l desist.’
desist.’
‘I don’t think you’l need to see the Board or go back to the registrar’s office before the big day.’
Ana’s eyes narrowed. Inwardly, she shivered. Could he do that? Could he make her declaration for her?
Suddenly, she wondered how her father had managed to keep the Board away since her supposed return from the kidnappers.
As though he could read her thoughts, Ashby said,
‘While you were being Emily Thomas, I found someone else to become you. Fortunately, none of the Board members sent to examine you in the last week had ever met you before. I think the new you would be delighted to accept the joining.’
‘Would she be delighted to walk up the aisle too?
Perhaps she could replace me permanently. I doubt you’d notice the difference. Except I’d be more cooperative.’
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He smiled. ‘I can’t alow you to live in the City.’
‘So you’d rather see me suffocate here.’
They locked eyes. It came to her at once – he’d never understand. To him, it was better to be in a cage and alive than in the wild, facing danger at every turn.
An hour later, she stood by the kitchen window and watched his saloon car leave. The chauffeur cruised to a halt as the automatic gates opened. Her father roled halt as the automatic gates opened. Her father roled down his electric window and beckoned Warden Dombrant from his tree hideout. They spoke briefly. The Warden glanced back at the house. Ana, visible in the downstairs window, met his regard cooly.
She watched them finish up. Dombrant moved away.
Her father’s saloon picked up speed and the gates closed.
Snatching a knife from the kitchen drawer, Ana ran through the living room, up the stairs and down to the end of the hal. She rattled the handle of her father’s locked office. If Jasper’s pendant was somewhere in the house, that was where it would be. Her father’s sanctuary. In six and a half years, she’d never set foot through those doors.
Ana peered through the keyhole, then tried the knife.
But she was no locksmith. She didn’t know the first thing about manipulating the device components. She threw the blade down, furious with herself for doubting the validity of Tom’s research, frantic with the realisation that her father was right – Jasper hadn’t checked the disc.
Because he wouldn’t have understood it, even if he had.
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29
Home Safe
Ana’s father authorised Warden Dombrant to take her to Jasper’s the folowing day. Ashby insisted they go in the car to avoid reporters. The double abduction and miracu-lous return of Ariana and Jasper was stil headline miracu-lous return of Ariana and Jasper was stil headline news.
Nick drove, but with D
ombrant watching her every move, Ana barely said two words to the chauffeur who’d been strangely absent since her return home.
The Taurel housekeeper showed Ana into the hal and scurried up the left side of the elegant double staircase to fetch Jasper’s mother. Lucy came down at once. She hugged Ana and stroked her short hair, clearly distraught at the sight of it. As Ana stood in Lucy’s grasp, she remembered the last time she’d been there. New Year’s Eve. Jasper had presented her with their official binding card; just after midnight he’d kissed her on the lips outside by the pool.
‘Come,’ Lucy said, sniffing. ‘He’l be so pleased to see you.’ She drew Ana into the vast taupe and grey kitchen.
Jasper slouched in a window-seat alcove at the far end.
He rose when he saw Ana and reminiscent of his old, faultless etiquette, offered her something to drink.
‘Mother?’ he said, once he’d fetched them both freshly 350
squeezed lemonade from a jug in the fridge. Lucy stuttered an apology and edged out of the kitchen.
Ana and Jasper stood face to face without speaking. A crisp white shirt and shampooed hair did much to restore his old semblance of togetherness. But Ana noticed his hands shook and dark eyes haunted his face. ‘My mother explained everything,’ he said. ‘I know who you are.’
are.’
She flung her arms around him and began to cry. He stiffened in her hold. She hugged him tightly, then forced herself to let go.
He had absolutely no idea who she was.
‘Please,’ he said gesturing to the window seat, embarrassed. She perched on the edge of the taupe cushion. At least he seemed a little more with it than he’d been in the loony dump.
He sat down beside her. ‘The doctors say the memory loss should be short term.’
‘I was there with you, Jasper. Don’t you remember anything?’
A muscle beneath his eye began to twitch. He grimaced.
‘The doctors advised my parents not to let me see you before the joining,’ he said. His voice held the edge of a threat. Tiny needles of dread prickled up Ana’s spine.
She wondered if he’d received some sort of reprogramming so that he wouldn’t even want to recal everything that had happened.
