State of Grace

by Hilary Badger

  ‘Oh my Dot,’ she says to me. ‘You’re the one who’s predotly. How come I didn’t get that? I should have … I just never thought my own best friend would –’

  Blaze says, ‘We need to go.’

  ‘Fern’s coming. She has to.’

  Gil turns towards me. The coconut knife is pointed right at my chest.

  ‘Fern, come on,’ I plead. ‘Come with us.’

  And then my best friend says, ‘Anything predotly must be crushed.’

  29

  ‘WREN!’ BLAZE YELLS. ‘Leave her! We have to go.’

  No!’ I practically spit it at him.

  ‘Fern isn’t coming.’

  I know that. Something inside me accepts I’m going to have to work on helping Fern later, from the outside. But there’s a bigger problem.

  ‘Dennis. We’re not leaving him.’

  Not again. I can’t let it happen again.

  Blaze grabs me and tries to yank me away. Doesn’t he get it? Dennis is small. Dennis is hurt. He needs me. But at that exact moment, I feel cold metal on my skin. The knife.

  I scream. My arms wheel towards Gil. My hands make fists and then …

  If you’ve never felt your knuckles driving into someone’s eyes, then seriously, I wouldn’t recommend it. It’s not the best. I don’t mean that it doesn’t work, because it does. For me, at least.

  My knuckles find Gil’s eyes and there’s this squelching feeling. The coconut knife falls blade-first to the ground. Gil’s yelling and Fern’s screaming. Dennis is still slumped on the ground but I can’t stop or do anything apart from run.

  Me and Blaze head for the escarpment. If I semi-closed my eyes and shut off everything inside my head I could almost believe it’s Fern beside me instead of Blaze. We could be running from the huts to the lagoon back on the day that everything changed.

  Only Fern’s not beside me. I’ve left her behind, with Gil and Dennis. I’m running away and nothing is right. Nothing is fixed.

  The whole way across the lawn, me and Blaze seem to be collecting butterflies. I hardly register them at first, but soon there’s a lot of them. As in, masses, moving together in one great big cloud exactly like they did that time in the hut.

  From the completion-night party comes the sound of more voices, people yelling and their feet hammering the ground as they run towards us.

  Everything predotly must be crushed.

  The words echo all around us. I don’t stop or turn around to look. I don’t need to. I can already imagine Luna’s and Jasper’s and Brook’s faces, lit by the flaming torches they’ve ripped from the ground beside the paths. It’s like I can read their actual thoughts.

  Tonight’s completion night. Catch the two predotly ones and it could be me who’s chosen. I could be the one!

  Every tree shivers with birds lifting off the branches as we run past. Deer and mice scatter, eyes catching the moonlight, giving them a split-second glow. The first rocks begin to pound into our backs as we reach the lagoon, exploding around us as our feet slap the rocky ground.

  We start climbing the face of the escarpment. Me first, with Blaze behind me, just as the pale shape of Gil comes hurtling through the avocado trees. I haul myself up. I try to anyway, but clinging to the rock my fingers feel too spindly-weak.

  I suddenly imagine my body sprawled on the ground, blood pooling around me. It’s just like when I froze on the rocks by the side of the lagoon forever ago.

  Fall from the escarpment now, and that’s what’s going to happen. And now I know for sure my head won’t repair itself. Dot won’t lift me up and carry me off to everlasting happiness beyond the trees.

  My skull will be split and that will be the end of it. As in, the end. Nothingsville. That’s it.

  A hunk of rock spins by me and clips my ear. I yelp as it smashes on the escarpment beside me.

  I look down to see shards of rock showering Blaze’s head.

  He yells, ‘Keep going. You can’t stop.’

  His face is straining, his whole body sweating, fingers and toes white with the effort of heaving his big body up the escarpment. More rocks explode around us. I turn and see it’s Fern throwing them.

  Luna’s beside her and Jasper too now, his white teeth flashing like an animal’s in the moonlight.

  I don’t see Brook but I guess he’s somewhere close by since, Gil’s directly below us now, reaching out for a handhold in the face of the escarpment.

  ‘Move,’ Blaze yells, and so I do.

  I have to. There’s no choice but to climb faster and not think about falling.

  I reach the ledge with its scrappy bushes and loose stones. But as fast as we climb, Gil climbs faster. His silver head is just below Blaze’s feet now. Gil’s hands are almost grazing his heels. So I grab a rock from the ledge.

  Just like Fern, I pitch it. The rock makes contact with Gil’s head and he grunts but hangs on all the same. I guess Gil thinks he has Dot on his side. The idea of it makes him strong.

  ____________________

  Gil has Dot, but I have other things pushing me forward. The instinct to survive this, obviously.

  Come back for Dennis.

  Then there’s Blaze and there’s Fern. We have to help her. We have to get out and help them. All of them.

  There’s strength in my arms and legs as I propel myself up the rockface. I’m a good climber not because Dot created me that way. I can climb because that’s what I’ve worked at. Climbing is what I’ve chosen for myself.

  It’s all these things that get me up the rockface. Then I’m over the lip of the escarpment and on my feet, hurling rocks at Gil. One smashes into his cheekbone. He makes this barking sound and loses his footing. He slips. At least I think he does.

  He yells out for Brook, who for once is nowhere around as far as I can see. It’s hard to tell exactly because it’s prelight and there’s still that cloud of butterflies circling around my head.

  I slap the butterflies away and my hand brushes this purple one. My fingers close around it and its glowing eye shines a green light through my bunched fist. Its wings buzz and whirr against my skin.

  I open my hand and just before the thing flies away I see there are words on its hard body, raised up so I can make out the letters with my fingers.

  Shepherd Corporation.

  Blaze’s hands appear over the lip. He half-climbs and I half-lift him over the top. His face is smeared with sweat as he scrambles to his feet. We cross the cold, black rock and run for the treeline as the butterflies circle and angry voices rise up from the lagoon below.

  Over the wire with its Shepherd Corporation tags.

  Through the straggly trees, towards the moving lights and low rushing sounds of the cars.

  Any moment, it’s going to be official. We’ll be out of here. The two of us are going to be free.

  Only it doesn’t feel the way I thought it would. There’s so much unfinished. We’ve left way too much behind.

  30

  A VOICE CALLS out, ‘There!’

  Light streaks across the ground, bends around the trees, knifes me in the eyes. From beyond the treeline, two figures run straight for me. Their faces are covered, their sungarb stiff and black and heavy. Close by, dogs bark.

  Then, a low, clear pock sound.

  ‘Wren!’ Blaze yells.

  The warning’s too late. My forehead stings. A cloud of white fills the air around me and I can’t see Blaze anymore. I can’t see anything. My eyes are raw and burning at the same time. Sensation pulses in my head, radiating out and down from that one point on my forehead. Now I’m doubled over, clawing at my eyes and screaming.

  ‘That’ll do it,’ that same voice says. Heavy hands haul me up. ‘You with us,Viva?’

  Whoever he is, he knows my name. As in, my dream name. Not that I can answer him. I can’t even talk. My entire face stings and my lips are numb.

  But the voice isn’t bothered, not at all.

  ‘This way.’

  And then I’m walk
ing. Or trying to walk. My arms are heavy and my legs can’t seem to hold me. The figure from beyond the trees, one of them at least, is carrying me now. I hear these moaning, choking sounds from behind me and I figure they must be coming from Blaze. They’re getting quieter the further we go, but I can’t turn to see what’s happening behind me.

  I can’t even scratch my face, which feels like it’s crawling with hot, red, biting bugs or something.

  A long, low building rises up before us. Doors open and all this white light floods out. Framed in the doorway is a cluster of people in blue sungarb.

  Even through stinging eyes I can see their sungarb. They’re these prenormal loose things printed all over with the letter S and a design I’ve seen before.

  A long stick with a hook at one end.

  Around their necks they’re wearing cords with white rectangles dangling from them.

  One leans close to me and I see his rectangle has a picture of a face and underneath that, some words.

  Alexander Reynolds. Medical.

  ‘How many did you fire?’

  Behind me, one of the figures from the trees laughs.

  ‘At her? She only needed one. Cap hit her right between the eyes and she was like … boom!’ His hands slam together with a cracking sound. ‘All over.’

  ‘The guy?’

  ‘Two.’

  Another laugh. ‘Three, tops. He’s a solid unit, that one.’

  ‘Viva, can you hear me?’ the man with the thing around his neck says. His voice is soft. ‘I’ll look after you now. I’m Alex.’

  He takes me from the figure who’s carrying me, muttering, ‘Couldn’t you do anything?’

  ‘Such as?’

  When Alex doesn’t answer, the man carrying me says, ‘It’s safe, right? Non-lethal. Designed especially for the Grace trial.’

  Together, we move through the double doors and into the light.

  ‘Doesn’t make it pleasant,’Alex snaps.

  The man mutters something like, ‘I did my best.’

  ‘Blaze!’ I yell.

  But I don’t think it comes out sounding like that. And anyway, it’s too late because the doors swing closed behind us, shutting out the prelight and the figures and Blaze too.

  ____________________

  I’m in a long corridor of light. Everything is stark. Footsteps squeal on gleaming floors. On the walls, a hundred rectangles of colour dazzle me. Monitors? I can’t say. I can’t see properly. I can’t even think properly.

  Where’s Blaze? Where have they taken him?

  ‘There’s going to be bruising from the impact,’ Alex is saying. ‘The gas will make you disoriented for twenty-four hours at least.’

  He doesn’t mention the red-hot insects, my stoppered throat or the tugging feeling behind my eyes, as though someone’s yanking them from the inside.

  ‘You’re just over here,’ he says as he opens another door and passes into a blue room beyond. Inside I’m semi-aware of a bed and a chair.

  Alex helps me to the bed. There are rustles and whooshes as he fills a tiny cup with water and carefully rinses my eyes. He gives me capsules and more water to drink, smoothes something heavy and soft over me.

  At some point, I guess he leaves. The one thing I notice for sure is the firm click of the door followed by three loud beeps.

  ____________________

  I’m clinging to the escarpment. Underneath the cold rock, my fingernails feel brittle and the skin on my hands is shredded and torn. I’m trying my hardest to climb but I can’t move. I’m stuck to the rock like a creature in a shell. Rocks pummel the escarpment all around me, cracking apart and showering me with dust and stinging pebbles.

  I turn to see who’s throwing them and it’s Fern.

  ‘Stop it!’ I yell.

  But she won’t. She’s standing there laughing, Gil’s arm around her.

  I swing around again and go on climbing. Someone else is standing on top of the escarpment.

  It’s Mum. She’s exhausted, prehappy, crying. ‘I told you not to get involved in this,Viva.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I yell. ‘Can you help me up?’

  But Mum only shakes her head, ‘It’s too late.’

  As she says this, two tiny figures slip over the edge of the escarpment. Hand in hand, they tumble through the air.

  One in red fuzzy sungarb and the other in stripes …

  That image fades and then I’m on the beach, standing right where the water meets the sand. Tongues of waves lick my feet and beside me there’s someone digging his toes into the sand.

  ‘We need to go now,’ says Blaze. And he walks into the sea. Water swirls around his ankles and then his calves and his thighs. He turns.

  ‘Are you coming or what?’

  ‘I’m coming,’ I tell him.

  Blaze laughs, twists at the hips and opens his arms. ‘Okay, then. Let’s go.’

  But it’s like on the rocks by the lagoon. I can’t seem to move.

  ‘I’m trying,’ I squeak.

  Blaze lifts his hand and waves. Hurry up? Goodbye? I can’t tell. The sun is sinking behind him, lighting him up in a haze of gold.

  ‘Don’t leave me!’

  But Blaze is already melting into the sunlight.

  ____________________

  I’m sweating. Inside me, everything is pounding. I try opening my eyes but the lids are all puffed and heavy. The most I can manage is a tiny crack.

  I’m in the blue room.

  All alone.

  Straightaway I think of Blaze. Is he close? How much time has gone by since I saw him last? Since everything happened with Dennis? It could be a moment or it could be hundreds of days. I want to haul myself off the bed, charge through the door and find them both but my limbs feel liquid, my head spongy, my tongue swollen in my mouth.

  It’s a while before I even notice there are two people in my room.

  Alex and a girl I don’t recognise.

  ‘When were they exposed?’ the girl asks.

  Alex glances at a circular object on the wall.

  Clock.

  Here, beyond the trees, my head is suddenly filling with new but familiar words.

  ‘Sixteen hours. Not even. They’ll be feeling ugly still. That’s my professional diagnosis, anyway.’

  Ugly. That’s the exact word for the way my head feels right now. Kind of like it’s going to burst.

  The girl’s oval face bunches.

  ‘But the gas is completely safe –’

  ‘And specially formulated for the Grace trial,’ Alex chants. ‘I think we can all see how well that’s worked out.’

  The girl turns her back. She starts fiddling with a bag, transparent and filled with dark yellow liquid that’s attached to me with a tube.

  ‘You mean the boy? There was no way to know he would trespass in a restricted area.’

  ‘They could have amped up the security,’ Alex’s saying. ‘It doesn’t bother you a nine-year-old could get through the gate so easily? It’s almost like they wanted him to.’

  An indignant sound comes from the girl’s snub nose.

  ‘He was a technology nut.’

  ‘He was a kid posing as his big brother on some hack computer forum. That hardly makes him a genius.’

  And suddenly I get it. They’re talking about Dennis.

  The girl smoothes her blonde curls. Her lips are the colour of figs. She and Alex are the only things alive in this box of a room with its stale, cool air gushing from the ceiling.

  Unless you count me, which right now I don’t.

  ‘The helicopter didn’t find him. That’s not odd to you?’

  Helicopter, I think. That’s the word, not hector.

  ‘Children go missing. They die. It’s sad but it happens.’ The girl taps the device around her wrist. ‘Don’t you read the news?’

  ‘I do. I just don’t believe it most of the time.’

  The girl sniffs. ‘You sound like one of those Circle people.’

  If I
ever had a grasp of this conversation, I’ve definitely lost it now.

  Circle people? I have no idea who or what they might be. Alex seems to know though, because there’s a little smile forcing its way onto his face.

  ‘You know a lot of them, do you? You hang out together all the time, I bet.’

  ‘You work here, Alex. You take Lainie Shepherd’s money, which is a whole lot more than most intern salaries. That makes you part of the Grace project.’

  ‘One of Dot’s disciples, you could say.’

  There’s a silence, which isn’t actually silent since it’s filled with all these beeps and hums from the equipment in the room.

  ‘Think they’ll take Grace to market?’Alex asks.

  ‘With these results? Of course.’

  ‘You count this as a good result?’

  ‘It was a trial. No-one projected one hundred per cent efficacy. Hiccups are part of developing any new medication.’

  ‘Hiccups. That’s one word for it.’

  From underneath my swollen lids I see Alex hold up his right hand and tap each finger in sequence.

  ‘Side-effects including everything from blurred vision to suicidal ideation. Two non-responders. One hyper-responder who, stop me if I’m getting the details wrong, attempted rape then stabbed a child.’

  ‘You’d scrap the entire concept of Delusion Onset Therapy for a few statistical aberrations?’

  The girl’s head is still except for the smallest quiver of her curls.

  ‘Grace is going to be a game-changer,’ she says. ‘There’s plenty of depressed and anxious people out there, people searching for meaning. And the world’s ready for an update on the beardy old man in sandals model.’

  ‘Grace is going to be a game-changer for Lainie Shepherd’s bank balance, so who cares about a few hiccups?’

  But the girl isn’t letting Alex get away with that.

  ‘The Grace implant is near-perfect. You know that. If you exclude trial participants with unusual blips in their gene sequence, this is a flawless example of a drug-induced delusion. Participants even formed delusional memories, Alex.’

  Alex steps towards my blue-sheeted bed.

  ‘Let’s check in with our trial participant over here.’

  It’s like he knows I can hear him. Through flickering eyelids, I see he’s consulting the white thing strapped around my wrist.