‘Sounds like Sergeant Connelly’s had a rough night,’ Nikki giggled again as she located the communication panel on the wall and jabbed it with her right thumb. ‘Your turn Jocasta, get your thumb at the ready before they send out a search party for you.’
As there were no further instructions issued for them Nikki decided she needed to shower and freshen up.
‘Don’t eat all the food when the breakfast arrives,’ she implored Jocasta. ‘I’m starving!’
A few moments later there was a knock at the door and the smell of warm croissants and hot chocolate filled the compartment. Nikki quickly emerged from the shower, her nose wrinkling in pleasure with the smell of food and her wet hair framing her face with ringlets.
As the two girls cleared away the remains of their breakfast the train began to slow and gradually shuddered to a halt. Lifting the blind at the window they could just see the side of the track, with its steep incline edged by a row of sparse trees dotted along the top. Realising that the train must have stopped for signals, the girls began to discuss what lay ahead of them when they reached Mars. Jocasta knew from previous reports that they would be divided into four sections within the Elite, each being connected somehow to the four elements, earth, wind, fire and water. She was mentioning this to Nikki who replied, ‘What’s your handicap then? That’s how they sort us, but I’m not sure exactly how.’
‘Handicap?’ Jocasta looked puzzled. Her father played golf occasionally and she knew there was some aim there to reduce your handicap, but she didn’t think this was what Nikki meant.
‘Well I had a slight squint in one eye when I was little, but they fixed that with laser treatment.’
‘Oh come on, silly,’ went on Nikki. ‘Your gift then. Or talent, as some people call it– the reason you’ve been chosen. I call mine a handicap as it’s more than just a little annoying having to stop myself turning into an animal every time I think of a cat or a fox.’
Jocasta’s eyes widened in amazement and her mouth dropped open in disbelief as Nikki’s hands seemed to start changing into what appeared to look like the paws of a cat. It only lasted for a few seconds and then they reverted back to normal.
‘But how does it happen?’ she squeaked, her voice strangely high. ‘I can’t do anything like that!’
‘Well I’m not meant to,’ replied the other girl. ‘Not yet anyway. We’re all going to be coached and packaged for the Elite once we get to Mars. Maybe,’ she continued kindly, ‘you don’t know what your gift is. Some people have to find out later on. It’s not always obvious straight away, and besides it’s always hushed up on Earth, as the masses don’t like us being different– that’s probably why you’ve never heard about us. Though I’m quite surprised that you’ve no idea about yours. Haven’t you ever felt slightly odd or different from everyone else?’
Jocasta racked her memories trying to think of something that might have counted as her ‘handicap’, but try as she might, she couldn’t; perhaps it was all a big mistake and she shouldn’t be here at all. But Nikki was still talking,
‘My parents just told me I was special and not to talk about my abilities to anyone else; and for a time I thought that everyone must be able to do what I could. It was only when I started being teased at school, because whenever animals were mentioned I had to go into a kind of trance for a few seconds to control myself that I understood not everyone realised what was happening. Luckily, now I can just flick a switch in my mind and nobody but me knows what’s going on.’
Chapter Six
Jocasta was becoming more and more confused. She scratched her cheek absent mindedly and the kingfisher fluttered under her fingertips. She wondered what on earth her talent could be and who might know about it. Did her parents know? Did any of her teachers know? And if they did, then why hadn’t they told her? Someone, somewhere must know; of that she was sure. Otherwise why had she been picked to go to Mars? When she thought about it she vaguely remembered people at school telling stories and spreading rumours about why the Meyer triplets had been chosen for Mars. Something to do with telepathy…
With a jolt which brought her out of her musings, the train started moving again and Jocasta had no more time to dwell on her gift, or handicap, as a short, sharp announcement on the train’s intercom instructed all Elite trainees to disembark at the next station.
‘Quick,’ Nikki spoke as she started gathering up her belongings. ‘Let’s try and be the first off.’
‘Ok, but I can’t find my jacket, have you got it with yours?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’
The girls searched the compartment and eventually found it lurking under the covers at the bottom of Nikki’s bunk. Jocasta’s relief evidently showed on her face as Nikki exclaimed: ‘Come on, don’t look so worried, we’ll soon have to be on our toes when the officers get into their drill mode. Only joking!’ she added, seeing the look of panic in Jocasta’s eyes. ‘I’ve no idea what happens next, I’m as much in the dark as you.’
‘Yes, but at least you know what your, uh… talent is, so you do have an advantage over me…’ Her voice trailed off as her eyes strayed to Nikki’s hands. ‘Sorry, but it’s all come as a bit of a shock I suppose, and I’m just wondering what else is going to be in store for us.’
As the girls jostled with the other trainees to get off the train Jocasta looked around for David, a familiar face was just what she needed right now. She caught sight of him, struggling like everyone else it seemed, with bags and coats sticking out at different angles, as he made his way down the narrow train corridor.
‘David!’ she called. He turned briefly and tried to raise a hand in acknowledgement but she saw he was hemmed in by bodies and luggage. He gave a wry smile and then turned back to the immediate task of getting off the train with, hopefully, she thought, all his baggage intact.
A few moments later a tall Elite officer beckoned them into a small side waiting room where Jocasta was able to manoeuvre herself next to David. She really wanted to find out if he knew about his gift, and if so, then why hadn’t he told her? But with so many people within earshot she just asked him how he he’d found the journey and if being on a 121 loco was as good as he’d hoped.
‘Just wicked,’ he beamed back. ‘Such a neat bunk and I slept like a log till Bozo here- ’ he indicated a fresh-faced boy standing next to him, ‘woke me up with his snoring.’
‘Sorry,’ the boy apologised, with a slight quaver in his voice, ‘but it was time for the check in anyway.’
‘Yep, and we might have missed breakfast, so perhaps you did me a favour, mate.’ David sensed he’d probably embarrassed the poor lad. ‘This is my friend Jocasta –Casta meet Felipe. He’s from the South of France, as you can probably tell by his accent. And,’ he continued, ‘he knows almost as much about trains as me.’
This brought a smile to Felipe’s face, and for one awful moment Jocasta thought they might launch into a full scale discussion about different trains and tracks but there was no time for further talking as the Elite officer had begun to call out names and was dividing them up into four separate groups.
The next few hours passed in a bit of a dreamlike state for Jocasta. She felt disorientated, stuck between two worlds, which she mused was actually the truth; although they hadn’t actually left Earth yet, her immediate future lay on Mars and she hated this hanging around in unfamiliar surroundings, waiting for the next stage of her life to begin.
Once in their groups they were told that some of the new trainees had failed to turn up. As those missing were believed to be on the next train, which wasn’t due for another couple of hours, everyone was going to have to wait patiently in the adjoining building. Here they would be kitted out in Elite uniforms and given refreshments. There were one or two murmurings of disapproval amongst the other officers who had arrived to assist in the practicalities, but they were soon silenced by a withering look from the tall officer, who was apparently in charge. Jocasta wished that they didn’t act in suc
h an aloof and contemptuous way, as not one Elite officer had so far introduced themselves.
*
The building was large, airy and cold, and although she had never been in one, Jocasta imagined it must be some kind of warehouse. A high roof, thin metal walls and a few shaky partitions with no windows to let in any light; just a few skylights and stark, old-fashioned, fluorescent lighting. She shivered as she followed the rest of her group, led by a small, bird like woman; appropriately name Lieutenant Wing Commander Wren to the rear of the building.
Jocasta was disappointed that neither Nikki nor David were in her group, especially as she badly needed to talk to someone about talents and the implications it would have for her future training on Mars. She searched her group, of about thirty students, trying to find a friendly face, and as she did so she became aware of someone behind her. It felt as though they were very close, too close for comfort, so close she could feel their warm breath on her neck– but when she turned around there was no one there.
She shivered again, feeling goose bumps rising on her arms and was relieved to hear her name being called out. She made her way to Lt. Wing Commander Wren who thrust a package of clothing at her. Some of the other girls were emerging from cubicled areas, looking slightly uncomfortable in their new uniforms, tightening a belt here and adjusting a button there. Jocasta had to admit that they looked quite smart, and she hurried towards the swinging door of an unoccupied booth.
Unfortunately, another trainee had her eye on the same cubicle, and they nearly collided in their eagerness to reach it first. The other cadet stumbled, but regained her composure, her dark auburn hair swishing over her shoulder as she looked towards Jocasta. An apology began to form itself on Jocasta’s lips, but the words dried on her tongue as the other girl turned abruptly away with an ill-disguised look of displeasure on her face. Jocasta slipped into the cubicle. A discomforting sense of unease settling over her.
She quickly removed her outer clothes and unpacked her uniform. She felt its firm, grey texture beneath her fingers. First she pulled on the trousers and then carefully buttoned up the tunic, noticing the broad, silver braiding on the arms and lapels. It felt good, surprisingly soft and easy to wear. Next she put on the ribbed belt, adjusting the buckle so that it fitted comfortably around her waist. Finally she redid her long hair in its neat ponytail and carefully squeezed her clothes into her bulging back pack. She emerged feeling smart and confident, until she realised that everyone else had on a shiny pair of Elite boots while she was still in her scruffy foot wear. Seeking out Lt. Wing Commander Wren she was quickly issued with new footwear but was told she’d have to throw away her wonderfully comfy, but admittedly rather smelly Conversion trainers. She reluctantly complied and only hoped her new boots would soon be as comfortable as her uniform.
‘Attention, everyone!’ Lt. Wing Commander Wren’s small but surprisingly insistent voice engaged an immediate response from the group. She certainly carried an authority about her which belied her size and stature.
‘After refreshments have been taken, we must depart on the next train to the EL Checkpoint before reaching the space port by early evening,’ she relayed to the trainees, ‘where we shall prepare for our flight to Deimos Space Station II tomorrow morning.’
A ripple of excitement reverberated round the cadets as they realised their departure for Mars was gradually becoming a reality.
‘I do, however,’ she cautioned them, ‘have a word of warning for you all.’ Lt. Wing Commander Wren’s voice then took on the monotonous and formal tone of someone relaying the same orders for the umpteenth time. ‘On no account must you attempt to use your talents while still on earth, or at any time during our space travel. Only under controlled conditions on Mars will you be allowed to explore and develop your abilities.’
Seeing some puzzled expressions in front of her, she gave what could only be described as an exasperated sigh, and with her eyes darting from face to face, continued. ‘I see that some of you are unaware of your talent and its capabilities and I cannot stress strongly enough that it is imperative that no-one, I repeat no-one should be coerced into finding or using their talent before the given time. I am conscious that several incidents have already taken place and any further misuse will be dealt with in the strictest possible way.’ She left her words hanging formidably in the air so that everyone present was left in no doubt as to the severity of the order.
The image of Nikki’s hands had flashed into Jocasta’s mind, which she quickly tried to banish by focusing on her new, toe pinching boots. Luckily it worked, but she was becoming increasingly curious about her talent. She’d been relieved by Lt. Wing Commander Wren’s reassurance that there were others in the same position as her; at least she wasn’t the only one who had yet to understand the significance of their latent abilities.
It was looking as if there was going to be much more than just a planet to explore when they reached Mars.
Chapter Seven
A few minutes after noon the train carrying the missing cadets came to an abrupt standstill. With a high pitched squeal the brakes pulled it to an ungainly halt, and the young passengers tumbled out onto the overcrowded platform. The uniform clad trainees were urged to make room for the disembarking passengers and there was confusion as the officers tried to ascertain exactly which of their students had arrived.
And then it happened; so quickly, Jocasta had no time to turn away as a blinding light pierced her vision and a loud explosion reverberated in her ears. Smoke filled the platform and an acrid, sour smell infiltrated the air. She tried to cover her mouth and nose but the fumes penetrated her air passage making her retch. She squinted through scrunched up eyes trying to work out what was happening and could just distinguish a group of five or six figures pushing their way towards the cadets and shouting angrily at the officers who had managed to create a human barrier between them. Small, close, incoherent noises of kindling panic and the frenetic, blunted shuffles of those desperately trying to move in the crush of bystanders was all Jocasta was aware of, penned as she was between bodies. She was too deafened to make out what anyone was saying, although when she craned her neck she could see one of the figures brandishing a banner, though the words on it looked unfamiliar.
Along with the other cadets, she could only wait with a numbing sense of trepidation as the masked attackers came within a metre or so of the officers. The leading one rushed towards Wing Commander Wren who, twisting her small body upwards, aimed one vicious kick to his groin with the other foot crunching into his left kneecap. (A nifty move she informed her cadets later that she had learnt from her good friend Captain Jack Sparks). Her opponent was catapulted to the ground with a resounding thump and an unmistakable grunt of pain. She placed her foot at his neck and efficiently removed his mask with an accomplished flurry.
Once the man had been dragged to his feet by station security, and the other would-be assailants quickly despatched by the Elite officers and security guards, the whole frightening incident seemed quite surreal. The Elite officers treated it as though it was simply an ordinary day-to-day hazard and quickly herded the cadets onto the next train.
There were no sleeping compartments here, but each four-seater section had its own small drinks machine and individual overhead screens. Each cadet was issued with a thumbnail communicator and told to follow the instructions for use by studying the appropriate programme on the screens and then should try to relax in their reclining seats.
Jocasta and her companions found this an impossible task after the previous events and once they had each managed to attach their thumbnail communicators and discovered that they held the newly invented speech translator, tried to work out exactly what their would be attackers had being trying to achieve.
‘I thought I recognised the first one,’ Jocasta ventured to remark.
‘Me too!’ one of her companions replied. ‘I think he was the dissident Marco Dursz, the one who’s always protesting about the Elite activities.
’
‘Maybe they were trying to stop us leaving then. Trying to prevent us all from becoming little grey soldiers,’ continued Romana, another girl. ‘After all some people are so frightened about what the Elite stands for, they’ll do anything to try and stop them.’
‘What do you mean?’ Jocasta asked, her thoughts returning to Nikki and her abilities.
‘Well, I’m not sure about all this,’ Romana continued in hushed tones, ‘but rumour has it that genetic experiments on stored embryos and gene manipulation resulted in some children developing extraordinary abilities.’
The other two girls nodded in agreement and Jocasta, eager to know more, encouraged her to continue.
‘What happened to them?’
‘No-one knows for sure, but apparently the Elite initially saw such people as a threat, but later on changed their minds and starting using them as a commodity to be used for their own purpose.’
‘And this Marco Dursz and his comrades,’ said the girl who had spoken first, named Marcella, ‘thinks it’s all wrong and that the Elite should be stopped.’
‘But why?’ Jocasta asked, trying to work out why that would be. ‘The Elite only wants what’s best for us all, doesn’t it?’
‘Who knows?’ Romana replied, with a shrug. ‘Let’s hope so. I’m not looking forward to my training if it involves being experimented on.’
The thought left a shiver running down Jocasta’s arms and by the silence that ensued she guessed the other girls must be feeling apprehensive too.
After a few minutes of awkward silence she tentatively asked if anyone knew what the silver braiding on their uniforms denoted.
According to Romana it showed their placing within the ‘Air’ unit of the Elite. However, no-one was prepared to let on whether or not they knew what this stood for, although several suggestions were made, including being trained to fly missions to other planets.
Deborah Hockney Page 5
