‘‘Air’, surely that’d stand for, you know, uh, well, flying…’ The girl who had remained silent up till now spoke so quietly it was difficult to hear her. She turned in apparent embarrassment and stared pointedly out of the window, nervously smoothing the hair around her ear.
‘You mean… flying aircraft?’ Jocasta suggested to the compartment at large. ‘Some sort of piloting group?’ Imogen, she thought, would be so jealous.
‘I’m more worried about our imminent flight without stressing about learning to fly a spacecraft on my own!’ said Marcella. She gave a laugh that did not entirely conceal the anxious crease between her eyebrows. ‘I mean, I’ve been on spacecraft before, but… this is Mars. My brother’s been to the Moon once, he said it was a breeze…’
*
All of them had visited one or more of the space hotels that orbited the Earth as luxury holiday destinations, but only Jocasta and Romana had travelled to the Moon. There were mixed feelings about the flight, anxiety imbued with a sense of excitement. But even if they had been feeling apprehensive, this was after all what they had signed up for and Jocasta knew that there was little point worrying about it too much.
When Lt. Wing Commander Wren interrupted their conversation to hand out itineraries, she suggested they study the information on the overhead screens.
‘It will undoubtedly be useful for you all to be up to date on rules and procedures, and it will also give you a taste of what is to come.’
Selecting the relevant film from the compact control panel in the arm of her chair, Jocasta adjusted her earpiece, inclined her seat and saw the familiar face of MICA appear on the screen.
MICA, she’d learnt, stood for the Maddigan Interactive Computing Auto, Professor Maddigan being the scientist who first created a successful interactive computer interface. MICA’s androgynous face was made up of thousands of tiny points of light which were infused with numbers and letters and shifting trails of electronic symbols, which was meant to represent her complex buffer system.
To be fair, MICA’s voice was, today at least, quite feminine: the technicians were always messing about with it to try and achieve a perfectly androgynous voice. Evie, Jocasta’s mother, had stipulated that obviously the technicians at Maddigan Corporation weren’t being given enough proper work to do if they had time to mess around with voices.
Jocasta was led, by MICA, through a series of explanations and procedure notes about her impending flight to Mars, the solar sails, the rocket engines, even the control panels, and then she was shown visual aids and stunning views of how Earth and outer space would look from their vantage point on the orbiting space station and given a glimpse of what life as an Elite trainee on Mars would really be like.
As she tried to absorb all the information, Jocasta was aware of the smooth, fast passage of the train. At times it would increase its speed, as they covered many miles of track, through vast areas of sandy plains; then it would gradually slow as it snaked its way through the mountainous forests, where dark conifers blocked out any light or warmth from the distant sun.
Towards late afternoon, a buzz went around the carriages as in the distance people could glimpse the vast launch pads of Baikonur.
A heavily accented voice announced over the intercom.
‘Ve vill be air-iving at Baikonur Space Centerr in opprozeematly ten min-ootes. Plez make surre tat all your belone-ings are removved from da carri-ages. Any re-maining it-ems vill be confiss-cated and dis-troyed.’
‘That’s a bit drastic,’ one of the girls remarked, but she was quickly admonished by her companion, who reminded them of past attacks, when terrorist organisations had frequently targeted trains.
A rather subdued crowd emerged onto the large, impersonal platform, which was bathed in the final glorious rays of the setting sun. The spectacular reds and oranges could be seen reflected in the tall windows of the station building.
‘Make the most of this,’ someone murmured behind them. ‘There won’t be anything so impressive on that little red planet!’
‘Follow me, follow me,’ the dulcet tones of Lt. Wing Commander Wren’s voice echoed along the platform and once again Jocasta marvelled at how strong and clear that small voice sounded in her head. Her group, and only those in her group, she mentally noted, responded; even though the other three sections were interspersed with them and nobody seemed to be giving instructions to them.
They soon surrounded the small frame of Lt. Wing Commander Wren who beckoned them into a semi-circle in front of her and started to address them quietly.
‘It is just a ten minute walk to our accommodation for the night and I imagine you’ll all be pleased for some exercise after the restrictions of the train.’ She looked at them inquisitively, obviously expecting some kind of agreement. There were a few nods but significantly more shrugs of the shoulders.
‘Ah well,’ she continued. ‘I see you will all need a little more encouragement and discipline in the future. You will walk in pairs and keep your pace in tine with mine. I do not,’ she emphasised, ‘want any stragglers in my group.’
‘You can deposit your bags in the trolleys to your left; they will be transported directly to the holding area ready for take-off tomorrow. You will only need to bring your overnight bag with you.’
A sigh of relief was audible as each trainee disentangled themselves from their heaviest bags and dumped them in the gaping trolleys which once full, automatically began moving up a winding track towards a tall, brightly lit building, which seemed to glow in the darkening sky.
The walk took them along a narrow path beside the single rail track, where they could see the trolleys disappearing into the mouth of a tunnel. Once they reached this point, however, they had to clamber over a stile, into the woods, as there was no room for a path alongside the track through the narrow tunnel.
It was dark amongst the trees with the sunlight fading quickly. Here and there, however, were small iridescent lights, shaped into glowing toads, which illuminated an uneven route through the forest floor. It looked almost magical to Jocasta, and not at all how she had expected the Kazakhstan Cosmodome to be; the launch pads must be still hidden from view she thought, obscured by the dense forest, and even the noise of the associated machinery was just a hum in the distance.
At last they began to emerge from the gloom of the trees and found themselves in front of several large glass buildings. Each one appeared identical, several stories high and stretching wide to either side. At first, it seemed, to be one continuous building, but in fact there were six or eight of them, filling the horizon in a curved arc. This was much more like the image Jocasta had envisaged; and as her eyes scanned the myriads of glass panes, taking in the steel walls, windows and doors she wondered just how many rooms there might be. Then suddenly, her gaze reached the top of the building, and halted abruptly, because here was a most incongruous roof. Nine large, pointed, triangular lights clearly illuminated sections of turf, which in stark contrast to the clean sleek lines of the accommodation blocks, looked as though they were in need of a good trim.
The group was quickly ushered into the waiting area, where Jocasta was relieved to see the other three sections of trainees, including David and Nikki, already assembled.
They were all registered at a huge, imposing check-in desk by another Elite looking clone: stern, non-interactive and with all the charisma of a teaspoon. Jocasta hoped there were going to be some Elite officers who had a little more colour to their personality.
All the Elite personnel were then led into an enormous dining area. Luckily, after collecting their self-service food, they were free to sit where they liked. Jocasta could see Nikki at a table close by, but as she seemed to be in animated conversation with her companion, she cast her eyes around for David. She spotted him quickly, at a half empty table with Felipe, and so hastily made her way towards it before anyone else could occupy the vacant chairs.
‘Hi David, hello Felipe, she nodded towards the French boy, before t
urning her attention fully on David. ‘Hey, you sure look smart in your uniform,’ she remarked to her friend, who pulled a squeamish face in reply.
‘Well, I really quite like them,’ she continued, straightening the front of her tunic as she sat down. She also self-consciously touched her identity ring, wondering when the time would come to remove it. She was surprised she hadn’t already been informed by one of the Elite Officers that she wasn’t allowed to wear it hooked through her nose. ‘What colour is your braid, exactly?’ she asked David. ‘I can’t quite make it out. Is it red or orange?’ She peered at his arm, trying to decide.
‘A mixture, I think, a kind of… orangey red,’ David replied, with a hint of amusement in his voice.
‘Apparently we’re in the fire section,’ Felipe interjected, ‘but I don’t think we’ll be fighting any flames.’ His attempt at a joke fell on deaf ears.
‘No,’ said Jocasta, hesitantly. ‘I think it’s more to do with our talents.’
She looked directly at David as she spoke, her eyes widening in questioning mode as she studied his face for any clue that he might know what she was talking about. Even so, his reply came as a bit of a shock.
‘I think you might be on the right track, there, Jocasta, but…’ He glanced around, almost furtively, making sure that no-one was close enough to overhear their conversation. Evidently, everyone else was more interested in their more immediate dietary needs, tucking into plates of food; with most of them transfixed by the latest ‘Venus Rising’ movie which was beamed directly to the large plasma screen which completely filled one side of the room.
‘We’re not supposed to talk about them on Earth,’ he whispered fervently. ‘You could get us into trouble, if we’re caught.’
Jocasta was much too upset to worry about getting into trouble.
‘So you do know about these talents, gifts, handicaps, whatever they are. Why didn’t you tell me?’ she questioned him, her voice becoming louder with every syllable. ‘I thought we were friends!’
‘For heaven’s sake, Jocasta, calm down, won’t you? Of course we’re friends… but… but I wasn’t sure how you’d react, if you knew… about me.’ David fingered his glasses thoughtfully.
‘Knew about you. What do you mean? Do you know what your talent is then? Because I’ve no idea what I’m doing here, and how about you Felipe- what about yours?’
She strongly resisted the urge to make a sarcastic remark about train spotting.
Felipe began to shift uncomfortably in his chair, and it was then that Jocasta registered that he was wearing glasses as well. Rather large glasses they were too.
The penny dropped.
‘It’s something to do with your glasses, isn’t it?’ she exclaimed triumphantly. ‘I’m right aren’t I?’
‘Keep your voice down, Casta!’ David hissed, doing his best to remain clam but looking, Jocasta noticed, decidedly uncomfortable. ‘Do you want to be responsible for the whole room finding out? But yes,’ he conceded. ‘You are right, Felipe and I can see… um… see into…’ He hesitated. ‘Promise me you’ll keep it to yourself and won’t faint or do anything stupid.’
‘Faint, faint, I’ve never fainted in my life!’ Jocasta was becoming increasingly agitated, but noticing that David was deadly serious she thought she better comply.
‘Yes David, I promise I won’t do anything stupid and I’m really sorry for getting so… so stressed. It’s just that this has come as a bit of a shock to me.’ She tried to smile reassuringly at them both. She hoped it didn’t look as difficult to achieve as it felt.
‘Well,’ David took a deep breath and began again. ‘If we take our glasses off, we can kind of see into your body.’
‘What, through my clothes?’ Jocasta involuntarily leant forward over the table in an effort to screen herself.
‘Yes, but don’t worry, you’ve never seen me without my specs, have you?’
‘Nope, I s’pose not, but it’s still a bit unsettling. To think that my insides, gurgling around could be on view to who knows how many people!’ She quickly scanned the room looking for possible culprits.
‘The thing is,’ Felipe mumbled through a mouthful of food, ‘we’re not sure what else we may be able to do. That’s one of the main reasons for being chosen by the Elite, they’ll train us to do other stuff.’
‘Yes, and all in the name of furthering the survival chances of the human race,’ went on David. ‘But not everyone sees it that way. That’s why it’s all hushed up on Earth, there are some people – certain purists, I guess you could call them – who think we should suppress our skills, and just try and be what they consider ‘normal’.’
‘But I am normal, I haven’t got a special talent. I’ve been wondering whether they’ve picked the wrong person, when they chose me. And the more I’m hearing about all this the more I think the Elite have made a mistake.’
‘Well that’s just stupid,’ David replied in an off-hand way. ‘The Elite never make mistakes. If they’ve taken the trouble to find you and get you this far, you can be sure there’s a very good reason for it.’
‘Well the sooner I find out what it is, the better,’ Jocasta replied, picking unenthusiastically at a soggy chip. ‘Because it’s really beginning to bug me. And it’s so unfair,’ she moaned, looking at the boys enviously, ‘that you should know why you’re here, and I don’t. Yuck. These chips are cold. Keep my place, you two,’ she said, placing her bag on the chair. ‘I’ll go see if I can get them heated up. And don’t you dare take those glasses off!’ she added as an afterthought, glancing over her shoulder.
‘We wouldn’t take that chance,’ David grinned. ‘And see those cold chips swirling around? Think it might just be enough to bring my dinner back up.’
Felipe chuckled in response.
Jocasta returned with her plate piled high with fresh chips. It was against the regulations, she’d been told, to re-heat food. She’d also helped herself to a sizable portion of apple pie and custard.
‘Help yourselves, boys,’ she said, balancing the tray on the table. ‘I’m never going to be able to eat all those chips and still have room for this dessert.’
‘Don’t mind if I do,’ answered David, patting his stomach. ‘I’ve heard the food on Mars can be a bit on the skimpy side, and I can’t afford to lose weight. By the way, there’s a strange girl over there, trying, I think, to get your attention.’
Jocasta turned to see a normal-looking Nikki waving a hand at her. Not wanting to risk letting any more chips go cold, and therefore to waste, she beckoned her over to their table and spent the next few minutes, between mouthfuls of food, introducing everyone.
They quietly discussed which sections they’d all been placed in; Nikki it turned out had been put in the section with the turquoise braiding: the Water Group. She told them the different groups were named after the four elements, and within the Elite were referred to as the EL-M Corps.
‘Apparently we’ll soon find out exactly what each one stands for – either when we reach the space station or on the solar ship taking us to Mars,’ said Nikki knowingly.
‘And then do you think they’ll tell us, what our talent is…? If we haven’t already found out?’ Jocasta knew she sounded anxious but she was desperate to discover when she would find out what her talent was- assuming she had a talent at all. But nobody seemed to have the answer to her question; the question that was constantly in her thoughts.
The remainder of the evening was spent watching an old movie in the adjoining lounge. Special filters and a high class surround sound system meant that you actually felt you were part of the action. Even though it was a film that Jocasta had seen several times before she could still enjoy it, as she chose this time, to view the film from the perspective of one of the monsters. It all became rather too realistic, however, when her monster started attacking the humans and she quickly changed characters before she could explore the sensation of biting off someone’s leg.
She was relieved to find
out that she’d been paired up with Nikki again for the sleeping arrangements. Much to their delight they discovered they had a shared interest for swimming and an interest in geology, especially semi-precious stones. Jocasta carefully unwrapped her sapphire, the only one in her overnight bag, and proudly showed the stone to Nikki.
‘It’s quite rare,’ she told her. ‘My parents gave it to me for my ninth birthday.’
‘And is that another stone in there?’ Nikki asked, pointing at the grey lump of plastic that had tumbled onto the bed when Jocasta had pulled out the gemstone.
Jocasta could feel the colour rushing to her face as she remembered Will’s warning.
‘Oh no, that’s just a good luck thing a friend gave to me before we left,’ she said quickly, turning away. ‘Don’t really know what it’s meant to be,’ she added, shoving it down to the bottom of her bag.
‘Have you got any gems with you?’ she queried, hoping Nikki wouldn’t ask any more awkward questions. She liked her a lot, but there was something about those things that Will had given to her and David that made her want to keep it a secret, certainly for the time being.
She was relieved that Nikki was only too happy to show off some of her stones, and they spent the next few minutes happily discussing their gemstone collections.
It wasn’t long before the girls were both trying to stifle yawns; and after remembering to carefully hang up their uniforms ready for the next day, they were soon getting ready for bed. Within minutes of their heads touching the pillows, the two girls had fallen fast asleep, oblivious to the noises outside, where the hum of machinery and the drone of vehicles transporting goods backwards and forwards throughout the Cosmodome carried on well into the night.
At 0700 hours a subtle but persistent alarm echoed through the rooms of all the Elite trainees, waking the two girls in room sixty-five from their slumbers. Reluctantly leaving the comfort of their beds, but anxious to see what the day ahead held for them, they quickly showered and made sure that their uniforms were correctly fastened and hair neatly smoothed down. They hurried to the lifts, along with everyone else from their floor.
Deborah Hockney Page 6
