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Whisper Gatherers

Page 2

by Nicola McDonagh


  Chapter Two

  Giving In To Temptation

  Santy Breanna closed the comp lid and pushed it to the back of the glass-topped desk. Deogol frowned but said nowt. I winked at my bro. My belly gave out a roar and I rubbed it. “Not taken in any nutri since morningmeal. I am greatly famished.

  “Not surprised what with all your doings high up.”

  “Addy, did you do the dare?”

  “I did.”

  My bro stood and gave me his fist to bump. Santy raised her eyebrows for a sec, then went to the foodprep room that directly led on. I waited until I heard her open cupboards and rattle plates around, before beckoning Deogol to sit on the comfycouch next to me. What with all the ear pulling and sniffles, I had all but forgot about my excellent discovery so was eager to tell my bro.

  “I saw something.”

  “What?”

  “Birdypoop.”

  “Where?”

  “On the ledge behind the great vidscreen in Centralplaza.”

  My bro gave me a look of intense. “You can’t tell anyone.”

  “Can’t tell anyone what?” Santy stood in the doorframe and folded her arms.

  “Erm.”

  “Adara, tell or you’ll not have any soylygrub this eve.”

  My tum screamed at me to tell, but my nonce and heart would have me keep silent. She gave me another lowered lid look. I gulped and put my hands on my stomach to deaden the loud rumblings that issued from it.

  “Well?” Santy looked from me to Deogol then turned her head in the direction of where the smell of heating food came from. “If you do not relinquish the info I have asked for, not only you but your brother, will go without.”

  “Wha? But that’s not fair.”

  “Perhaps it is not in your eyes Deogol, but I seek honesty in this abode. Anything less is a slight upon our kinship. The info you give will not go further than this place, you know that.”

  I was humbled by her words and guilt-ridden about Deogol missing a meal. The portions of grub had been somewhat less of late. When I played quickgrab with my bro yesterday I was able to wrap my fingers all the way around his bony wrist. I took in a deeply breath and said, “I found birdyplop behind the great vidscreen in Centralplaza.”

  Santy put her hand to her mouth. “You must tell no one else. Promise?” I nodded.

  “You too Deogol.”

  “I’ll not say a word.”

  My palms began to sweat a bit at the realisation that I came so close to letting rip when I was above ground. The sight of birdle poop had awakened my birth power. All I craved was to exercise my voice to see if I could bring down a real live birdybird. My inner turmoil must have showed without, as Santy sucked in her cheeks and half closed her eyes. “Adara, you must not take it into your nonce to practise your namegift.”

  “I wasn’t, well, mebbe a bit.”

  “You must not.”

  My innards scrunched. My entire time upon this forsaken land was all about deceit and furtive. I had a gift, given to me by who-knows-what, but still, I had it and yearned to use it. “But how will I learn to control it.”

  “You will not, because I forbid you to try it out. Too much danger is attached to it. What I say is for the utmost best, of that you can be sure.”

  “I’ll be discreet.”

  Santy folded her arms and gave me a half smile.

  “I promise. It will be as if I never made a sound, so careful.”

  “Like the last time when you sneaked to the perimeter, bringing forth raptors instead of tweeties?”

  “I learned from that Bro, I learned.”

  “There will be no goings to anywhere by the border fences for either of you. Carnies are rumoured to arrive. Also, Praisebees have been seen trying to get in.”

  “Praisebees? What do those zealots want in this sanitised setting?

  “Who knows? Maybe the Agros have cut back their supplies and they seek comfort here.”

  “Or mebbe, they’ve heard about the Carnieval. They have come to see what those freaks deliver in their bizarro show. Or, mebbe, they want to know what meat tastes like and have heard about Adara and her skill. Mebbe you should sing after all to help ease their sufferings.”

  “You would ask your big sis to reveal herself, become a slave to all who would abuse her gift? Just to satisfy the curiosity of unstable devotees. Or to appease the perverse hunger of Carnies? Those folk are nothing but trouble.”

  “Some say they cannot help themselves and have gone nutso from the torment of their urges.”

  “Carnies, mad? My robust behind. They are not afflicted, merely lustful for that which they cannot, should not have.” Santy rarely raised her voice and when she did, we knew not to answer back. “All settled?” We both affirmed with a head nod. “Good, now let us go to the foodprep room to partake of our nightly meal.”

  We followed her to the place and sat down at the round metal table. Santy ladled out a spoonful of soymix. I waited for her to garnish the plate with some greenery like she always did. She did not, instead she sat down and said, “Eat up before it cools. Although tasty enough, this particular flavour is lacking somewhat in agreeableness on the palate.” Her portion was less than ours and I began to wonder just how many provisions the Agros were holding back from Cityplace.

  We demolished the bland foodstuff. The ache in my innards relented a tad when Santy poured us some milk as a compensational treat. We gulped it down like a hungry kittle. She watched us drink and I swear I saw a tear form in her left eye. She coughed, picked up the plates and put them in the dishwash. It made a whoosh sound for a sec, then Santy sprayed the table, heatinghob and walls with hygenespray. Blinking, I pinched my nostrils together so that I wouldn’t sneeze, so letting loose more germs. Then sighed and took to staring at my bro.

  His eyes were closed, his brow furrowed. He intertwined his fingers before placing them beneath his chin, like someone deep in thought. On looking at him in such a contemplative state, I would have taken him for a wise oldie. I held my breath and thought I would use some telempathy to mind connect in order to find out what the huff he was thinking about. Then I recalled his cryptic words about knowing stuff about the Agros, and my heart stuttered.

  “Addy, tomorrow is your last time at the place of learning,” Santy said, thus breaking the spell between my bro and I. He opened his eyes and sat back, whilst I slumped a little from the effort of trying to delve inside his noggin. “We must plead your case before the Oldies, see if they will allow you to train as a S.A.N.T.”

  “I hope they will.”

  My bro smirked and leant forward. “Yeah, they’ll let you go, Addy. Easier than trying to find someone who’d want to be your hubbie. You’re too squat, too thick of waist to attract a potential mate. Not in all your juve time has a rutting male come sniffing at this door.”

  I pinched Deogol’s arm most savagely, and he let forth a high-pitched squeal. “I could have the pick of any in Cityplace if I chose. But I do not.”

  “Well said, Adara. Deogol, those words were not apt. Your sis is of a rotund physique, which may indeed prove unsupportive if she wished to attract one of the opposite. But she has made clear on more than one occasion, she would rather become a Backpacker than a missus.”

  Deogol sneered. I blinked slowly to indicate I was not fussed by what he’d said. Although a part of me did flinch when he pointed out the lack of teensap attention. All the other girlygigs I knew had romfriends in abundance. I became all face pink and hung my head. Santy touched my short cut hair and said, “You have more to offer this sad land than any flighty fem. You will be a most welcome addition to the S.A.N.T. clan.”

  “If they let me join.”

  “How can they not? You’ve been training since a tot. Don’t concern yourself about their decision. Now, both of you to bed. Sleep without upset.”

  We rose and bid each other goodnight, then went to our individual layingdown place. My room was a tad bigger than my bro’s, with a window that opened
. A prize for showing my deftness at staying clear of said portal when ajar. He, when tested, as are we all when we reach the height of danger, raced straight to it. Santy had to grab his shirt and yank him back to safety before he jumped through. My beddie place was brighter too. He preferred low-lit accommodation without decoration. I had laser etchings of extinct animals. Kittles and dowgie pics filled the wall above where my beddie stood.

  With a touch of my fingers, the images changed. Instead of a kittle-cat playing with a length of fibre, my peepholes were gratified with more once-lived creatures that I am told roamed this sadly land of ours. Horsies, deeries, hephalumps and the like, all gone now taken by the long ago plague. I pressed my palm against the image of a pink piggle. It transformed into my favourite long-dead beast, a squiggle. I stroked its tufty ears, its bushyly tail and wished such creatures still abided in this barren place.

  My musings ended with a yawn. I turned and opened the door opposite that led into the steamshower. I slap-shoed in, undressed, threw my soiled garments through the flap of the washhole next to the poop bowl, and stepped into the glass-encased cubical. I pressed the eye level button on the wall. The hot vapour rid me of all the dirt I had attracted from my escapade. Despite the soothing nature of the cleansing, and Santy’s encouraging words, I could not forget about the birdyplop and felt a pull inside my throat.

  With a belly cough, to rid myself of the longing to call to them, I pressed the button to cease the hotly water then stepped out of the shower. After drying myself, I put on a lightweight all-in-one jammie suit I took from the metal talldrawer. It was my favourite bedware. The colour of a winter’s sky with spots of white dappled all over it. It reminded me of a snowshower and the fun Deogol and I had playing splatball when we were small. I yawned, went back into the sleep part of the room, clapped my hands and the lights dimmed. I stretched, yawned again before flopping onto the soft cosiness of the bed. I wriggled under the sheets, lay my head on the supersoft allergysafe pillow and let my lids drop over my weary eyes.

  The image of great flocks of birdybirds filled my head. In my make believe musings these birdles landed and pecked on the ground. A thing they have not done since the famine made folk consume everything that still lived. I blinked and rubbed my eyes to dispel the entrancing pic, but when I closed them again, the birdies came back. I tried to think of other things, but nothing could rid me of the flapping creatures.

  I rolled onto my belly and pressed my forehead deep into the pillow. After a few secs of shallow breathing, I made up my mind. Although Santy forbade me to sing, my body and brain told me otherwise. I felt a stirring of vocal muscles in my throat. Gagging, I tried to hack out the yearning with chesty hem-hems, but the throbbing ache continued.

  Spinning onto my back, I clutched at my neck, sucked in my lips to try not to let out my voice. But I could not. I threw back the coverlings and got out of bed. Walking slowly as if I were a night-walker. I went to the window and opened it. A cool breeze swept across my face. I smelled a faint scent of something sweet and cloying. My nose twitched and my windpipe covering trembled as I sucked in air. I leant out, widened my gob, then let my voice ring out.

  Chapter Three

  The Haunting Of Cityplace

  The sound that came from my mouth was strange. I’d never heard myself sing in such a fashion, and did not know where the long, high notes came from. All I knew was that it felt good and right to be calling to the birdybirds. Although the only ones that would be around at moontime, were owlets. My heart thumped at the thought that I may get the chance to actually see one.

  Oh, I’d earholed a hooting and a screeching more than once, but could not put a name to the brittle song. When I called to Santy Breanna to witness the noise, she said it was that of a blarnyowl. Then she showed me pics of them on my slab. Their round, flat white faces and big black eyes gave me the heebies. I thought they looked like ghosties. Santy said that some folk believed said Tytonidae were the voices of the dead trying to deliver messages to those that remained. On hearing their jarring peeps, I could not say for sure that she was wrong.

  I ached to hear them, so cried out again and closed my eyes. In the blackness behind my lowered lids, flashes of light danced and fell in intricate patterns, until I could almost see a parade of silhouetted creatures. They were nothing like the real beasts they’d shown us from the bygone days in yesteryear class. I found it sadder than sad when watching the vids, that all but the flying animals on the land were extinct. Except for Wolfies. The snarling, hideous beasties that some say roam the Wilderness. I shuddered, glad that I lived in such a secure setting.

  Yet, part of me wished to go forth into that savage land and experience its fearsomeness first hand. Since that was not going to happen any time soon, I concentrated my wistfulness on bringing forth a hoolet or two, and sang once more. All remained quiet despite my earnest calling. So I tried again, waited for a response, when none came, I ceased my futile singsong.

  I should have gone to beddybyes, but there was something brewing on the wind that whooshed past my face. Troubled, I lifted my head to the sky in search of stars, but there was too much light from the other buildings and the many infoboards that faced each living quarter, for the flickering orbs to be visible. I wished it could be really dark here so that I could see them.

  Once, Santy had taken Deogol and me to the edge of Cityplace, right on the border to the Wilderness where the Woodsfolk dwell. She said something secret to the guard and he let us step a few bits into the tree-dense area. We stopped just in sight of the bordercheckpoint. Raising our heads, we stared at the black heavens.

  Dots of twinkling light sparkled before our eyes. I was overcome with wonderment at what I gazed upon. On tiptoe, hands outstretched as if to touch them, I stretched my bod upwards. Santy laughed and told me they were too far away. I tried to say I wasn’t actually attempting to place my mitt upon a thing beyond our planet, but she had done listening. Scolded me again for being daft. I sulked all the way back home.

  Then I heard them.

  The shrieking shrill hoots of owlets. The sound drifted past my window, but I saw no birdle. I shuddered as the squeals became louder then faded away.

  There was a tip-tapping on my door and I quickly pulled in my head.

  “Addy? Are you asleep?”

  Closing the window without making a sound, I slipped back between the sheets.

  “Addy?”

  “Yeah, what?” I said, in as sleepy a manner as I could.

  Santy Breanna entered. I made a fake yawn to fool her into thinking that I had been in slumberland. “Did that weird noise not awaken you?”

  “Erm, what weird noise?”

  “The one that sounded like owlets.”

  “Owlets? No, can’t say that I did. Must have been asleep.”

  “Really? It was more than quite loud. I would have said if I didn’t know any better, that the thing was perched upon your windowsill.”

  “Shame I missed it then.”

  “Shame indeed.” She walked over and sat on the edge of my bed. “I will ask you once and once only. I hope the answer you give will be honest true. If not, I will be deeply offended. Do you glean my meaning?” I nodded. “Did you let loose your voice for one and all to hear?”

  I paused before responding. Hoping that the gap between speaking and thinking of what to say would prove fruitful. I came up with nowt but, “I couldn’t help myself. What with finding the birdypoop, thrilling at the thought of becoming a S.A.N.T. I felt impelled to let rip before I choked with yearn.”

  Santy closed her eyes for a sec then took my hands in hers. She turned them over so that my palms faced the ceiling and counted all of my six fingers. “You have enough strange about you to cause folk to gawk without attracting more attention. I understand more than you realise. I know just how strong an urge it is to fulfil your namegift. But Addy, in your case it would be dangerous in the extreme. I will say again, you must not use your voice, ever.”

  My no
strils flared for a sec, then I squeezed her hand most fondly. She gave another huge sigh, let go my massive mitts and said, “This I will tell you. Things are becoming out of sorts. A storm most metaphorical approaches. We must prepare to get severely wet.”

  “Metaphorically?”

  “Yep.”

  “So, not Carnies and their fright-show?”

  “No.”

  “Oh. I glean your meaning Santy, I think, and will behave.” She smiled and stood to leave, I halted her progress by saying, “Santy?”

  “What?”

  “If the call for me to sing is great again, what should I do?”

  “Tell me. I will help you resist the urge.”

  “Ta Santy.” She attempted a smile, but could not and left all sad-eyed from my room.

  I leant back and tried to clear my noggin of thoughts, which was the only thing I excelled at during lessontime. I was glad indeed those days were over. I relished the prospect of attending S.A.N.T. camp for real. Drowsy, I let my lids drop and waited for the numbness of sleep to transport me to another place. Muffled song filtered through my senseless state. I imagined it to be within my skull, so half opened my eyes, expecting the sound to cease. It did not. Fully conscious, I got out of bed and went to the window. I thought myself asleep again and dreaming, for in the distance towards the perimeter fences, I saw lights where no lights should be.

  “You see them too?”

  Turning, I saw Deogol. He clutched his slabcomp to his chest. With one hand, he pointed at the glass. “They’re here. Ghosties heard your song and now they’ve come to take it back.”

  “What are you blabbering about?”

  He opened up his comp and showed me the screen. Images of white-faced corpses swam around all sorts of textchat. “See? Folk heard a strange noise. I did too. Now all are feared that the dead have risen.”

  I snatched his slab from him. “Why would they rise?”

 

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