‘You what…?’ the twins looked aghast.
Ivy and Maisie passed each other quick, fearful glances while Azalea looked as worried as Berk did. Zinnia turned to Iris, who blushed blood deep.
‘Forget it and let’s go,’ Iris mumbled her head and eyes downcast.
‘Now calm down all of you. Preceptor Sven, please lead your kids to the other end of the hall. We shall meet at the charabanc in thirty minutes, right? Lamebren we have a docunote to watch. Meet me at the auditorium in ten minutes.’
Preceptor Sven shot Iris a dark look and strode towards his group of kids. Bosco sighed and shrugged. Zinnia stared in confusion at her friends.
‘How weird!’ she exclaimed.
‘Weird is right,’ Crispin agreed. ‘What was Preceptor Sven thinking?’
‘I said forget it,’ Iris repeated looking acutely embarrassed. ‘We have ten minutes to see the rest of the Museum before we go see the docunote, okay? So, let’s hurry!’
Crispin handed her the beads, the remnants of the beautiful necklace, which she pocketed without a word. As the lamebren moved around the picture gallery, no one noticed that Lorde had hung behind, shooting wicked glances at Preceptor Sven.
The lamebren continued their tour across the museum, but Zinnia couldn’t focus. She was troubled. Something about the way Iris had reacted disturbed her—Iris and Preceptor Sven. The Altklugs and their Ace-world had nothing to do with the lamebren. In her whole life, this was the first time that Zinnia had even shared charabanc space with the Altklug kids themselves. And yet, something strange had transpired today...something that Zinnia couldn’t quite understand. She observed Iris covertly but the girl seemed to have regained her composure and in fact was quite excited about exploring the Museum. She was flushed and pretty and it confused Zinnia all the more...especially the smile in her eyes that she was trying so hard to conceal.
The auditorium was a huge place with spaced out, lush dark arm-chairs and a lot of gadgetry attached to it. ‘This is a five minute docunote on Governor Seeya. Please be seated and insert these chips into your padlets. Hold the other chip in your palm and close your eyes, please,’
The lamebren followed Bosco’s instructions as they slipped into the seats in the darkened room. Zinnia closed her eyes and instantly loud cries and sharp commands filled the atmosphere. Lightening ripped the dark room, transforming it into a battlefield. Zinnia gasped as the blasts thundered into her brain and light arrows whizzed past her ears stinging in intensity. The scene was terrifying as gigantic Humanoid machines clashed with the Altklug army under a glass-like Dome. Shattering glass merged with streams of melting hot metal, filling the Cupola like red hot lava. The stench of burnt skin, the intense heat and the cries of terror, pain and agony filled her heart with horror. The entire scene seemed to erode Zinnia’s heart and tears sprung down her cheeks. Then, just as suddenly, soothing music filtered into her mind and her body felt cool and began to relax.
Images rose before her eyes—Governor Seeya in a turquoise blue gown and a sparkling diamond studded crown, looking absolutely powerful and stunning. Her black eyes were glittering as she spoke in a soft firm voice. ‘Today we have achieved what we Altklugs have dreamt of for years. Peace, freedom and finally, absolute knowledge. Knowledge, which has liberated us from the uncertainty of death, of disease. Today we are in control of our destiny. Let’s make a promise to ourselves not to exploit this freedom, not to abuse this knowledge and to use it to better the lives of the Altklugs and those who come under our shelter.’
Governor Seeya smiled a knowing enigmatic smile. Zinnia felt the brush of lips on her wet cheek. The Governor’s piercing gaze rested on the lamebirl. Her smile vanished and the gaze grew in such intensity, that Zinnia was sucked into its depths. Governor Seeya’s exquisite face loomed larger and larger, filling up her vision and finally merging into Zinnia’s head. A strange sensation wrapped around Zinnia, a sort of thrill, but more like a calm and protective sheen of emotion...
Zinnia opened her eyes with a gasp. Her breath was short and she glanced, disoriented, at the others. Had the other lamebren too experienced this bizarre connection? The almost palpable and real interaction with Governor Seeya. Dim lights illuminated parts of the room. Crispin looked sober as he extracted his chip from the padlet and the twins appeared shaken. Farther on, the other lamebren shuffled uncomfortably in their seats, appearing a little dazed. Only Iris looked calm as she replaced the chips. Bosco opened a door and led them all out. He looked as unfazed as ever.
‘Wow! That was some docudrama!’ Crispin exclaimed, as they gathered in the hall again.
‘Not something I am going to forget for a long time,’ Zinnia agreed. Her mind was still reeling with the impact of Governor Seeya’s speech and her look. No, it was not something that she would forget soon...
6
‘I love to stitch,’ Cylia explained. ‘If you have any extra cloth with you, do pass it on to me. I’ll cut it and make something out of it for you. I have bought the most amazing auto-needle!’
‘I will. I’d love this patchwork pouch I saw in a pic-chip. In the olden days, people would carry stuff in them,’ Zinnia suggested.
‘Yes, I know what you mean.’ Cylia’s eyes gleamed under her almost non-existence eyebrows. ‘I would love to make it for you. Oh, I’m so excited...’
‘Iris is taking me to the Dome Piazzar today. Perhaps I’ll buy some beautiful material for the pouch.’
‘That would be super!’ Cylia exclaimed. Her pony tail, held high on the top of her head, swung to and fro as she drifted away, happy in the thought of her pouch-making.
Zinnia was a little surprised at the ease with which she had settled into her new life. She had adapted to the routine within days and even the Supercustodian had toned down the waspish, sarcastic pitch that she used on Zinnia. The new faces had become familiar especially because of the names she had concocted for every lamebirl and lamebroy. She had also begun finding her way around the Dome and even discovered a Paramour Path right next to the Cubicle. Zinnia was delighted to find a lane similar to the Rose Lane at the Ret Cabana.
‘Zinnia, are you coming with me to the Dome Piazzar or have you changed your mind?’ Iris popped her head into the room.
‘I’m coming!’ Zinnia replied.
‘The twins have evening duty at Commander Burdock’s house, so they aren’t coming and Crispin would rather sit and read instead of traipsing around the market,’ Iris said as they made their way to the charabanc stop.
‘I’ve never been to the Piazzar before, and I so want to see it!’
‘It’s fascinating to say the least. A world in itself. It’s in the Western Quarter so you’ll also be able to visit the Fountain of Conscience—it’s remarkable like all the other Fountains. Amazing work of art,’ Iris explained.
She was wearing a pretty crimson scarf over her black shirt. As they climbed onto the charabanc with ‘Fountain of Conscience’ splashed all around it in multi-colours and it sped into the skyways, Zinnia noticed that the older lamebirl looked exceedingly pretty. The little touches of colour and accessories that she added to the black common uniform, made her stand out distinctly in a crowd.
‘Like my scarf?’ Iris laughed, guessing at what was in Zinnia’s mind.
‘It’s pretty,’ Zinnia agreed.
‘Like all my other pretty stuff. You know, I think I am the only one of the lamebren, who regularly visits the Dome Piazzar. I have to go there once a week. It makes me feel alive―the colours, the noise, the sheer variety―it’s as if I am not in this black and white, boring Altklug Ace-world at all, but somewhere else, where all these beautiful things matter, where these gorgeous articles are a part of my life and mean something to me. That is why, every single time, I pick up a brooch, or a necklace or a scarf, whatever pleases me—I spend all my monthly quota of Mudra on it and it makes me so happy!’
Zinnia listened keenly, observing the glow of anticipation on the older lamebirl’s lovely face. She real
ly did seem to relish these visits to the Piazzar.
The two lamebren got off at the ‘Fountain of Conscience’ and for the first time, Zinnia saw the symbol of the Altklug Ace-world at close quarters. Five Altklug Statues supported a huge Alphabet ‘C’ in the centre and jets of water sprouted in a circular fashion from their hands. The Fountain rose from all ends of the C, flying so high, that as usual, Zinnia could only imagine the top. The sheer artistry of the fountain and the riot of colours was amazing. Considering that the Altklugs wasted no time on emotions, it was remarkable how they could have created this masterpiece. It was as if the monuments and fountains were trying to make up for the otherwise dry nature and monotone shades and minds of the Altklugs. Zinnia stared in awe at the huge fountain, enjoying the sprinkling of the spray on her cheeks.
‘Come, let me take some shots of you at the Fountain,’ Iris said suddenly.
‘Shots?’ Zinnia was puzzled. ‘But you don’t have a Digi-eye.’
‘You see these boxes on the street? Well, these are digi-eyes placed for everyone to use. Just attach the cable to your padlet and shoot. Stand against the Fountain...lovely! Especially your wind-blown hair and that sweet dimple in the cheek!’
‘Ok, now my turn,’ Zinnia laughed.
She took some shots of Iris as she posed against the jets, holding her red scarf and smiling prettily. Iris was such a misfit in the Altklug world, Zinnia thought with sudden insight. A lamebirl like Iris should’ve been born somewhere else—far away, where life was not drab and disciplined and orderly. Where freedom meant wearing what you please, and doing what you want, but was there such a place? Anywhere at all?
The Dome Piazzar was like walking into a maze of tech-advanced shopping system. The shops themselves were spread over several towers, the tips of which seemed to vanish into the sky. Zinnia was so taken aback with the sheer magnitude of it all, that she had to take a breather.
‘These towers have stores, sorted according to commodities in alphabetical order. We’ll have to take the internal charabanc which will pick and drop us at our desired store,’ Iris explained.
They stood in the centre of a Square with long queues of high-rise towers all around them.
‘It’s all automated of course and it took me a while to figure it out. It can get a little daunting if you don’t have help.’ She grinned. ‘Come on, there’s the charabanc, hop in. Just speak the number of the store that’s all. I want to pick up another scarf and my favourite store is on the 85th floor, store No. 55.’ The older lamebirl demonstrated, as she spoke into a screen, which instantly displayed her instruction.
The charabanc set off at a steady pace, passing rows and rows of shops. The variety of the merchandise took Zinnia’s breath away. Machines to design and turn your cloth into dresses, automatic hairstyles, limb replacement units, stores and stores of nutritional ‘food’ packets, colour and size-changing umbrellas and clothes for the weather hours, a variety of padlets, digi-eyes and screens, ranging from the tiniest to the largest, portable, foldable and adjustable furniture which you could carry anywhere, even in your handbag―Zinnia could only gasp in amazement. Iris seemed to enjoy the younger lamebirl’s astonishment.
‘It’s fun, isn’t it?’
‘It’s dazzling,’ Zinnia agreed. ‘I’ve never seen so many shops before...and do the Altklugs really use all this beautiful and...and mind-boggling stuff?’
‘Yes they do, in their after-hours, at home. The rest they export to the other four Domes across the planet. Oh, here’s my store. Come on!’
No. 55 was a place Zinnia would never forget. In one sweeping moment, she grasped why Iris was the way she was―she had no choice. The store tempted every lamebirl instinct in her, arousing the finest feelings. There were scarves, jewellery, shoes, clothes, handbags―each vying for attention in colour, shine and attraction. Iris immediately moved to the scarf section and touched a turquoise blue scarf of the softest variety.
‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’Admiration dripped through her tone.
‘It is,’ Zinnia admitted. ‘And it will look lovely on you.’
‘I’ll look pretty, won’t I?’ She draped it against herself with a candid smile.
‘You already are very pretty Iris,’ Zinnia assured, amused. ‘But the scarf will make you look exquisite.’
‘Aw, you are sweet Zinnia.’ Iris gave the young lamebirl a quick, affectionate hug.
She punched her padlet number into the machine and the Mudra from her account was transferred to the store. The machine then released the Scarf, which Iris folded and pocketed.
‘Hello!’ a voice hailed.
Startled, Zinnia and Iris turned around.
‘Preceptor Sven!’ Iris exclaimed.
‘Ah...you are...G10, right?’
Zinnia could simply stare. Preceptor Sven smiled pleasantly at them.
‘Yes, I am and she’s Zinnia. For that matter, my name is Iris.’
‘Iris—what a beautiful name! It suits you.’
Iris blushed. Zinnia stood awkwardly, uncertain of what to do. Were they allowed to talk to Altklugs? Why was Preceptor Sven behaving in such an easy, familiar manner?
‘So good to find you here,’ he continued amiably.
‘Yes what a coincidence, isn’t it?’ Iris said.
‘Iris, I think we better leave,’ Zinnia admonished, nudging the older lamebirl.
‘Been shopping you two, haven’t you? You must be tired. The Dome Piazzar can be a little exhausting after the initial excitement of shopping is over,’ the Altklug continued.
He glanced from one lamebirl to the other, his gaze resting longer than necessary on Iris, apparently awaiting her response.
‘It’s a fantastic place and shopping is a pleasurable activity.’
The older lamebirl smiled shyly at the Preceptor. Zinnia’s heart began to thump erratically. She had to stop this exchange of pleasantries, she had to do something. Instinct told her that it was not appropriate.
‘Excuse us Sir, but we really have to leave,’ Zinnia cut in. ‘We are already late.’
‘But...’ Iris turned to Zinnia, a frown topping her beautiful face.
She opened her mouth to protest but the look on Zinnia’s face made her falter.
‘Come on, I still have to buy some material for Cylia,’ Zinnia insisted.
She literally dragged the older lamebirl by the hand, wanting to increase the distance between the Preceptor and them for some strange, mysterious reason. Zinnia sensed a resistance in her friend’s body language and hoped earnestly that Iris would not hold back and continue to chat with the Preceptor. After all, he was showering her with special attention and keen interest which no lamebirl had ever experienced before and most certainly not from an Altklug. Wasn’t that an offense in the Altklug World? Zinnia suddenly experienced a frisson of fear…
But mercifully, Iris followed her friend mutely.
‘Goodbye!’ she exclaimed rather belatedly over her shoulder.
Preceptor Sven bent his head in acknowledgement, his manner grave and controlled.
For the rest of the evening, Iris was meek and had lost her exuberance for shopping. Zinnia sensed the change in her mood but maintained a stoic silence. She bought some material for Cylia, following Iris’s brief instructions. Her mood swings puzzled Zinnia a bit. There was so much to learn from Iris—her desire to help everyone, her sensitive nature and yet sometimes Zinnia sensed a restraint on her part. As if she was holding back something, something she wanted to keep strictly to herself...some secret...some desire....
But then, didn’t they all? Wasn’t each lamebirl and lamebroy unconsciously doing the same? Weren’t their dreams and desires suppressed and crushed under the great pressure of the superiority of Altklug existence? Wasn’t the Secret Society a result of this need to burst out from under the pressure? Hadn’t she herself experienced a restless energy inside of her?
Being the oldest, Iris was simply more expressive than any of the other lamebren, Zinnia conclude
d. She had seen more of the Altklug Ace-world than any of them, so she was prone to being more reactive and reflective than any of the lamebren. Satisfied with her analysis, Zinnia allowed the puzzle to slide from her mind. It was dark when the two of them returned to the Cubicle, just in time for dinner.
*****
‘I feel so weak, I have no clue what is wrong with me,’Azalea whispered so softly that she could barely be heard.
As Iris fussed over the lamebirl, Zinnia hovered in the background. Azalea was a delicate and fragile lamebirl and the weakest of the lamebren. Iris made her comfortable on the bed, gently arranging the covers around her. Zinnia hung back, watching the exchange.
‘Thank you, Iris. You do know we aren’t allowed to lie down during class hours.’
‘I know, but it’s the class with Mirella and she’ll understand. Do rest, you know it’s the Heat Hour which does this to you. With Rain Hour, you’ll feel better.’
‘Don’t you think nowadays they are missing the Snow Hour? I do so love it, although it gives a terrible burn in the head. Do you think the Snow Hour is getting delayed?’
Iris shook her head briefly. ‘Everything is right on time, dear. Nothing is missing and nothing gets delayed here. You must’ve miscalculated.’
‘Yes, I probably did.’
Azalea turned grateful eyes on Iris, who smiled in understanding. Berk appeared just then, looking plump and earnest with an almost perpetually anxious face, followed by the other lamebren.
Revolt of the Lamebren Page 6
