I wheel around, furious. “Why would they show up like that and spoil something so beautiful?”
“Just because. He made people feel too much.”
“What’s wrong with that?” I say trying to look Svein in the eye but he hangs his head.
“Extreme joy might lead to extreme discontent,” he says letting go of my shoulder and slouching away. “Just leave it at that.”
He goes back into the bar and pours himself a large Acai Brew, downs it, his hands shaking as it goes down. Outside the rest of the band strikes up with some average no-name tune that sound the same as the piped-in music we hear in the elevators and everyone just gets back to business dancing like dutiful little puppets.
Mixing the juices is such a mechanical job I can let my mind roam when I fill blenders with fruits, vegetables, coconut milk, protein powder and ice, press a button and whirr them into a foamy drink topped with chopped nuts, cherries, grated chocolate, strawberry slices or any number of other toppings.
Remembering Junius’s note I check out the tin of protein powder more closely. Each one carries the blue and gold Iduna logo and a label with the usual list of contents claiming to fill you up with this or that ultra-important vitamin. They’re the drink of choice here. In fact my weekly average is twenty five and I have a particular liking for Mangoberry Coconut. But when nobody’s looking I mix a big one without the protein powder. It’s not as sweet but there’s something clean tasting about it. I put it off to the side when the band takes a break.
Yul, the drummer walks in with his usual swagger then sits up at the bar surveying the crowd. “Is Chale back?” I whisper to him.
“Why would you be interested, Pretty Paige?” he says, winking and sucking back the Mojo Lime smoothie I automatically made for him.
“Just thought he got a rough deal – you know – I mean the song was great.”
He smacks the glass down on the counter and flips back his brown, wavy hair. “The song was incredible. I was – like – in a trance when we played it.”
I fill his glass up again. “I can’t get it out of my head.”
A big grin splits his face. “I’ll just pass that message on to Chale when I see him. He’s got a thing for you, girl.”
“Quit teasing,” I say, wiping the spill.
“It’s the truth,” he says just as two Keener girls fresh out of school link their arms into his and drag him away. He turns round and shrugs his shoulders as they disappear through the door. I don’t know too much about Yul – only that he’s been Chale’s drummer for as long as I’ve known the band, he’s a magnet to girls and keeps a pretty low profile apart from his band appearances.
We’re so busy the day goes by really fast, even though time doesn’t usually mean anything here. Lynette says people always used to worry about time. She’s told me a few of the favourite sayings people had then:
There’s not enough hours in the day
So much to do and so little time to do it
Time flies
Time waits for no man
Time is money
Take time to smell the roses
She says people always rushed around trying to fill every minute because time was so precious to them. Lynette’s husband, Sam always told her Waste your time and you’ve lost part of your life. At least that’s what he said when he walked out on her after three years of marriage to backpack across a country on the other side of the world with three of his buddies. Where does the world begin and end? How far is the other side of out there? Lynette can’t answer those questions. She just thinks about Sam and how he felt hemmed in by the walls of their bachelor apartment and what’s more he hated tuna casserole and women that cried all the time. After that all she could think of was how time never stood still – just seemed to rushed headlong towards some inevitable end when she’d be a wrinkled up old prune face with nobody to love her.
I don’t know what I’d do without Lynette. She’s the only real, constant person in this fake place. And when I’m sitting in the darkness listening to her soft, crooning voice I could curl up like a child with my thumb in my mouth and go to sleep. I guess she’s the closest thing to a mother that I’ve ever known.
“You are – like – dreaming in a standing position,” says Sven, appearing beside me so unexpectedly I let go of the blender lid and the smoothie shoots purple guck all over the counter. “Klutz,” he says, wiping a gob of it from his eye and throwing a cloth at me.
I try to wipe it up but just succeed in making more of a mess. “I’m tired, I guess. Gave blood today.”
“That’ll do it,” he says, taking the cloth out of my hand. “Finish early – supper’s soon then you should get an early night.”
I stroll past the Fountain Plaza on the way out. Yul’s still laughing with the two Keeners, Jules the guitarist and Jolyon the bass player are lounging on a bench in the centre of a crowd of admirers but I can’t see any sign of Chale. If they’re just cooling him off he should’ve been back by now.
“Chale not come back yet?” I ask as casually as I can.
Yul nudges the freckled redhead and nods his head towards me. “This little girl has a crush on Chale,” he says, pouting his lips.
“Cut it out, jerk” says Jolyon. “I was expecting him back too.”
“He must’ve gone back to his place,” says Jules getting up. “I’m gonna check it out before supper.”
“Let me know,” I say, noticing the Iduna Followers are packing up their banners and Junius is nowhere to be seen. At that moment I totally understand Lynette because right now time seems to be dragging its feet and I can barely wait to see Junius again to find out what he knows. Maybe he can answer some of the questions that are gnawing at my brain.
4
Where is the edge of our little universe? That’s just another thing I agonize about.
Lynette’s given me a few clues to help me figure out exactly where the Iduna Compound is and what lies outside its walls. She says she’s not sure but when she volunteered for the project she was taken from her snow-covered home town of Minnie-Apolis in some kind of high-speed bus with dark windows and plush seats to a place called Tinsel-Town. She slept through the whole trip but when she finally got there the sun was shining and she’d arrived in a bustling city with real palm trees lining the streets and the smell of the ocean nearby. What does ocean smell like? How big is the sea?
All the people she met there were totally obsessed with looking young no matter how old they were. The moment they got wrinkles they went to a doctor who injected them with poison to smooth the wrinkles from their face or filled their lips with stuff that made them puff out. Some even had the skin in front of their ears or under their chin cut and pulled tighter to stop the sagging. Lynette never did it because it just made you look like a weird alien. People called you Cruella de Botox or trout lips or pillow face. She says getting old was worse for the rich people in Tinsel-Town because everyone dropped you or didn’t take you seriously when you started to age. But the funny thing was she remembered someone from her childhood called Granny who had white hair and wrinkles and was still beautiful to her. She smelled of roses and sang a song called All the Pretty Little Horses when she tucked baby Lynette into bed.
I think about all this while I’m soaking in my hydra-bath. Scented candles burn around the edges of a glass tub that changes colour every ten seconds – pale pink, vibrant green, electric blue, warm purple. Soft music plays. It’s a whole experience having a bath here and it calms the ragged jumble of thoughts, questions and emotions swirling around my head. Svein was right. Chale’s song made me feel like I’m living in a prison and now I’m even more anxious to find out about the world outside.
I hold my hands up in the air, watching the water droplets as they’re caught in the purple light, and I notice the tips of my fingers are wrinkled with all the soaking. I study the little swirls and wonder if that’s what the skin on Lynette’s Granny’s face looked like. Not so bad really. I decide
to buy some rose candles to help me imagine her.
The Food Plaza is where we have supper. It’s at the centre of all the theme complexes and it’s a bunch of restaurants surrounding a big square with fountains, bridges, tanks of exotic fish and ornamental lamps illuminating a giant Iduna Shrine. There’s the huge picture and a golden statue that we’re supposed to touch every time we pass it.
Today I’m not really hungry but I need to keep myself busy until my meeting with Junius, so I drag my feet over the bridge, brush my fingers along Iduna’s glittering toes and spot Borna sitting at the Nutburger restaurant with another girl who she introduces as Edelia. Edelia has long, chocolate coloured hair, a face so pale it’s almost ghostly and lips that are full and deep red – almost crimson. The effect is so startling I can barely take my eyes off her.
“Take a seat,” says Borna. “We haven’t eaten yet.”
I nod self-consciously and sit down. Borna introduces me as the cool girl that knows all the cute musicians.
“Edelia worked at the Fantasy Store with me,” says Borna. “We both quit at exactly the same time and now she’s an assistant in the Psych Centre.”
Now Borna has my attention. “I just spent a few weeks there,” I say trying not to stare too much at Edelia.
“Don’t worry – everyone goes sooner or later,” says Edelia, checking out the menu. “You go in there all mixed up and check out good as new. It’s magic.”
“The strange thing is I can’t remember what they did to me or who treated me,” I say.
“I can’t help you there,” says Edelia. “When patients go in for the Deep Treatment the doors close and we don’t see anything beyond that. And we never speak directly to the therapists. It’s all done by digi-message. Basically I get my instructions from a machine – the only people I talk to are the other assistants.”
“Edelia just keeps the patients comfy afterwards,” says Borna nudging her friend. “But she gives special attention to the cute guys!” Borna kicks off laughing.
“Just one of the perks of the job,” says Edelia smiling and revealing bright white teeth. “And they really appreciate the personal touch – especially when it comes to implanting their mood monitor.”
Borna glares at Edelia across the table as if to silence her but it’s too late – she’s got my interest. “What exactly is that?” I ask, ignoring Borna’s raised eyebrows.
“I guess they like to keep track of everyone – make sure they’re staying happy.”
“And where do you implant it?”
Edelia’s looking at Borna and frowning and I detect a slight shaking movement of Borna’s head. Edelia shrugs her shoulders and grins. “Enough professional secrets,” she says as the waiter arrives.
It’s strange that I don’t remember anyone planting any kind of device in my body when I was in the Psych Centre. No wonder I always have the feeling that someone’s watching everything I do. That’s just part of living in a goldfish bowl like this. We’re no different to the exotic fish swimming from one glass wall to another in the big tank beside the Iduna statue.
We order the day’s special – chickpea, walnut and sunflower burgers with onion rings and salsa. The girls look puzzled when I don’t have a smoothie but I’m determined to take notice of Junius’ warning so I have a sparkling water instead.
We’re just looking over the dessert menu when Yul and Jolyon arrive. Borna and Edelia nearly choke on their drinks and both guys have their eyes fixed on Edelia’s ripe cherry lips.
“Well aren’t you gonna introduce us, Paige?” says Yul, flipping back the long, brown curtain of his hair with one hand.
Jolyon’s shorter with a halo of blond curls. “Yeah Paige, where are your manners, girl?”
By the time I’ve finished the introductions the guys have installed themselves at the table. Yul’s draped his arm across the back of Edelia’s chair and Jolyon’s already asking Borna about the Fantasy Store. Perfect - since I have to meet Junius, but as I’m pushing my chair back under the table I remember Chale.
“Hey – did Chale show up yet?”
The guys barely register the question so I have to ask again. Jolyon tells me there’s no sign of him yet but Jules has gone over to his place to see if he’s still sleeping.
After saying goodbye and being ignored, I shrug my shoulders and head off towards the swimming pool but I can’t help worrying about Chale. It’s unusual for a Keener like him to disappear, especially after he caused such a sensation this afternoon. I know I won’t be able to sleep unless I visit his place and see if he’s okay so I decide to go after my meeting with Junius – but that depends on what he has to tell me.
5
I’ve always loved the swimming pool. Before my last visit to the Psych Centre I used to swim a hundred laps every day. Back and forth, my head dipping in and out of the blueness, my mind calmed by the rhythmic swoosh of the water as it rushed past my ears. I’d climb out dripping and tired but my blood was always racing. As if I could take anything on and just ace it.
And this isn’t just any swimming pool. The pool area is dark but when you swim there’s all kinds of incredible light shows and special effects. Sometimes the lights are deep green and it feels as though you’re swimming through the heart of a deserted jungle but my favourite effect is when the air fills with millions of tiny white lights that scatter across the water like snowflakes.
Swimming doesn’t usually start until well after supper hour so the pool area is empty and quiet with only the underwater lighting casting ripply shadows on the tiled walls. My footsteps echo in the silence and every breath I take is amplified. I don’t want anyone to see me here alone. It’s unusual. Out of the ordinary - and we’re not encouraged to do anything like that.
The filter room is behind a small grey door in the hallway that leads to the changing rooms. I have a vague memory of sneaking inside there in my Keener days to kiss some guy whose name I can’t even remember. It’s just one of those memories that seems to have blurred into oblivion with all the others that happened before the Psych Centre. I came out more contented but sort of muddy. Couldn’t remember much about my friends – except Junius.
The hallway is so dark I can barely see in front of me so I feel my way along the walls, my head a little dizzy from the smell of chemicals. I grasp the filter room door and push with all my strength. At first it sticks but suddenly whooshes open and I go flying inside, knocking down some tools and causing a huge clatter. I find my balance again and look around trying to accustom my eyes to the blackness. I can make out the ghostly shapes of the filter pumps and hear the water pulsing through them and it’s so warm I can feel the sweat start to trickle down my neck. And then from behind a machine a whitish figure steps out so suddenly I press my back against the wall.
“Couldn’t have been a bit quieter?” says a familiar voice. Junius’s face looms out of the darkness, his copper eyes glittering.
“Sorry,” I say. “I forgot about the sticky door.”
“Now I have to get rid of this junk,” he says, unwrapping the white Iduna Cult robe. “Never did like wearing a tablecloth.”
“Then why did you join?” I say, noticing how his fair hair is longer and wavier than before.
“I can’t explain it all now – but I promise I will – eventually.” He motions for me to sit down on the wooden bench by the wall then takes my hand. His touch is surprisingly cool. “When I saw you in the Psych Centre I was so worried. I thought they’d erase everything and wipe away the real, curious you.”
“Don’t worry,” I say, glad to just be talking to him again. “I’m still the moody daydreamer I always was.” I laugh and realize how much I missed him.
“Great – because I found something crazy out – something you’ve been wondering about since I’ve known you.”
I can’t take my eyes off him. I want to learn everything about this place.
“OK – here goes,” he says taking a deep breath. “When they tell us that people escap
e from the compound and get kidnapped on the outside, it’s a lie.”
“I’m not sure I ever believed that anyway,” I say. “Go on.”
“Every month at least two Forevers are selected for something known as shipment. The CEO and his or her associates – whoever they are – actually sell them to someone on the outside to use as Feeders. Basically whoever can come up with the right kind of money gets to buy a chance at immortality.”
I feel an icy prickling all over my skin and my voice comes out all croaky. “That means we’re just like products being manufactured – to be used like machines.”
“We’re kept happy and well-fed – sort of fatted up like cows or pigs used to be in the old days – until we’re the perfect specimen, ripe for harvesting.”
“Harvesting our stem cells?”
He nods. “And organs – in some cases.”
The clammy air feels suddenly chilly. Now everything seems to click into place and I understand the way it all works. “And all the time they’re watching us – studying the effects of immortality on the body and mind – so they know what to expect on the outside.”
“The question is – who’s controlling this whole operation?” he says, jumping up becoming more agitated by the minute.
“Nobody ever sees the CEO or anyone from Central Control – and everyone here’s so busy having fun they don’t care about it.”
He takes me by the shoulders. “That’s why I told you to stop drinking the smoothies, Paige. That’s not protein powder – it’s some kind of drug that turns us all into good little robots – so we don’t care what’s going on! And – even worse – they’ve been stepping up the shipments so the disappearances are going to happen more often. And the worst thing is – I think it could be us soon.”
The Forever Ones (The Iduna Project) Page 3
