The Seventh Tide

by Joan Lennon

  Wall dispensers were everywhere. Sensors picked up increased adrenalin breathed out by agitated citizens and politely but firmly offered sedation. The police force, known as the Guardians, was armed with paralyser guns and the instruction to shoot first, ask questions later. Someplace else, out of the public view…

  Just like the historical land-based Glasgow, Greater Glasgow had an extensive Tube system. It was powered by hydro-pressure, and its pods were well stocked with sensors and dispensers in case rush-hour delays got on a citizen’s nerves. Trains of spherical pods floated through a complicated system of transparent reconstituted algae-plast tubes, a little like an old-fashioned marble run, up, down, round and at every conceivable angle, and about a third full of water. It was an amazing feat of hydraulic engineering but, like anything you use all the time, nobody much noticed.

  The Tube was crowded – the end of the working day always saw enormous shifts of people desperate to get from one sector to another. Sometimes Jay loved all that. She would pretend she was part of the important grown-up world of commuting and being anonymous and purposeful in a crowd. She would stare out through the distorting curve of the tube walls at people passing and shops and lights coming on in the Housing Sectors. Sometimes she did it for hours, just in a daze, and would come to herself in an empty pod at the Inverness station, maybe, or even the suburbs at Ullapool.

  But not today.

  Today the Tube was just irritating. Jay got out at the next station and wandered along, looking in at the shops. She caught a glimpse of herself in a window and slowed down.

  As a fifteenth birthday present to herself, Jay had gone to the hairdresser’s. She’d opted for a velvety black cap of hair, a bit like the fur of a wet otter. It hadn’t been cheap, but she knew she had a nice-shaped head and sexy ears – she didn’t need to disguise them under elaborate curls and padding. Not like some people she could name.

  ‘If you’ve got it, flaunt it!’ the hairdresser said, and Jay had been happy to believe him.

  Heads had been in style for a while now. It was legs before that. Irritatingly, long legs went out of vogue just as she had a growth spurt and got some. They still tripped her up sporadically and she didn’t always remember to duck going through doorways. And even when she wasn’t falling over herself, she had a tendency to fiddle with things, and almost invariably break them, which drove her parents to distraction.

  ‘She’ll grow out of it,’ they said to each other through gritted teeth. ‘I’m sure she will.’

  ‘Ooops – sorry!’ said Jay. She’d stopped paying attention and bumped a young woman’s arm as she passed. Fortunately, the woman just grinned at her.

  ‘You should wake up before you come out!’ she laughed.

  That was lucky! thought Jay. The rules on respecting personal space were pretty strict. Either the woman was better at remembering what it was like to be fifteen than most adults were, or else she must have just patched. Jay suddenly saw two Guardians standing by one of the shops. They were turning their heads away, their blank-faced masks scanning another part of the promenade. Clearly they had only just stopped watching her…

  Jay felt cold sweat break out on her skin.

  Everybody knew that Guardians were just people. They were recruited from O-class Sectors at a little younger than Jay was now, trained up in segregated installations that no one who wasn’t a Guardian ever saw the inside of, and then assigned, always away from their home city. But still, just people – people who all looked exactly the same… It was the masks that really spooked Jay. They were designed so that the wearers were protected from attacks on any of their senses – sight, hearing, smell, even touch and taste. Nothing got through the mask membrane that shouldn’t. It covered their skulls completely, leaving the place where their faces would be blank and featureless. The masks protected them, but it also made them all look alike… not quite human.

  You couldn’t tell them apart by their voices either – an integral microphone in the mask turned tenor, baritone and bass into one horrible breathy rasp. It was as if the Guardian behind the voice was only just in control of it. Jay remembered a classmate complaining once, ‘You’d think with all that technology, they’d be able to get the voice right!’ But she knew it was no mistake. It was the perfect voice, straight from nightmare.

  Suddenly Jay didn’t want to be there any more either. She didn’t want to ride the Tube or shop or meet up with friends or go to a cafe or check out the new entertainment centre or any of it. She certainly didn’t want to go home and revise.

  Up top! she thought to herself. That’s what I’ll do…

  She set off through the crowds, doing her best not to be noticeable or bang into anyone. Up a few levels, over to another section of the Tube, up again – until finally she reached the part of the city nearest the surface. D-class and RD-class lived up here, so it was a good idea not to be spotted wandering about. Minders and Maintenance O-class were of course allowed into these Sectors, but Jay didn’t think she could pass for anything like that. Finally, having first checked that there was no one watching, she turned down a little-used side tube. There was a ladder at the end of it, and in the ceiling, there was a hatch…

  Jay had first started going up top about a year ago. It was a Restricted Sector, so being there unsupervised was absolutely not allowed. The old surface platforms were not all that safe any more. Before the perfecting of sub-hydro power, they’d housed solar-power panels and wave-power generators and windmills. Further back than that, they’d provided people with a place to be ‘in the air’, though it’d been a long time since the platforms had been used very often for that. Jay’s people adapted to underwater living long ago, and didn’t pine much for the sight of the sky.

  If you fancied some spectacular seascape views, though, this was the place. On a clear day you could see islands as far away as Nevis and the Cuillin chain, where the seabirds bred in season and the air was filled with their screaming for space. The horrendous noise and the stink of guano – that’s what she remembered from a school trip round the archipelago – hellish. But from a distance, the islands were quite pretty, with their swirling haloes of birds overhead and the white waves round their feet.

  It was already getting cold again and the birds would be gone soon. Once the winter storms set in in earnest, it wouldn’t be any fun at all coming up top.

  Jay shivered. It wasn’t that much fun now, except for the fact that she wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place. She’d seen the view before – and she had promised her parents she’d get stuck in to her schoolwork… She was just about to give in and go home, when suddenly she froze. There was a sound coming from the hatch.

  Guardian! thought Jay, crouching anxiously behind a box-housing for something, but it wasn’t the police. It was just a man, obviously RD-class, in a peculiar coat. She’d seen him here before. He seemed very good at giving his minder the slip. She wasn’t sure what he came up here of, but then nobody ever did know why an RD did things! He never stayed long, and of course he always left immediately if he saw her…

  The hatch opening mechanism whirred again – and this time Jay hid in earnest.

  ‘Sir! Dr Horace, sir! Come inside at once!’ The minder was a middle-aged O-class woman with unconvincing hair rolls. She bustled up to her charge but was careful not to touch him. ‘Running off again – you shouldn’t make me worry like that!’

  Jay saw the man’s face as he turned towards the woman. It was a surprisingly young face, unlined and wide-eyed under his old-man hair.

  ‘I shouldn’t?’ he said in mild surprise.

  Jay didn’t hear the minder’s reply as she ushered the man back to the hatch. Then they were gone.

  Jay sighed. Better wait a while, till they’re well away, she thought. She wandered to the railing and gazed out over the swell.

  That could be me, she thought glumly of the woman. If I don’t get better marks, minding some D or RD will be the only work I’ll be able to get.


  It was a prospect as bleak as the scene before her, nothing but the grey end of day, the cold flinty sea, the passing of the year…

  She was just turning away to go in search of some warmth and light and, if possible, some cheerfulness, when it happened. She only saw it out of the corner of her eye – a completely impossible whirlpool the height of a tall man balanced above the surface of the sea – before it disappeared, leaving two bodies thrashing about in the icy water.

  The RNLI (Robotic Naval Life-saving Initiator) deployed immediately. Sensor-directed netting shot out from the platform, snaring the targets on the first cast and winching them to safety with such enthusiasm that Jay had to leap out of the way. Two Medi-boxes opened automatically to receive them, then hissed shut and began their analysis. Jay rushed over and tried to see through the lids, but they had already opaqued. The boxes hummed busily, while giving nothing away. She would just have to wait to find out who on earth these people were and how on earth they’d ended up in the sea…

  Which was when it struck her that she was not going to be the only one wanting to know those things. RNLI deployment would automatically set off alarms all over the place – medical staff for one, but worse than that, there were the Guardians. They’d be swarming out of the hatch before she knew it and she did not want them finding her here!

  She had already started to sprint for the exit, when she remembered the man in the coat and screeched to a halt. She could blame it on him! RD-class were always pressing the wrong buttons at the wrong times…

  Without stopping to consider the consequences, Jay turned on her heel, raced over to the RNLI instead, flipped open the control panel and punched in the standard code all O-class were taught for ‘False Alarm’ and ‘RD Error’. She didn’t think, But now the people in the boxes are my responsibility or What if they’re dangerous? or even What do I do if the Medi-boxes can’t save them and they die?! She just banged in the codes and ran back to see if the strangers were ready to emerge.

  One of the boxes was making heavy weather of its work. Must be malfunctioning, she thought. The machine couldn’t seem to make up its mind whether it had one or two rescue subjects inside it, or even what their species might be. (In the early days of the RNLI there had been instances of disconcerted seals being rescued against their will and popped into Medi-boxes, which then stalled on the Basic Limb Count.)

  She went to check the other box. It seemed to be working properly, anyway. Jay was able to access the initial report now, with details of gender, height, weight, age, injuries, prognosis and so on. She got as far as ‘Subject is male, height 165 centimetres, weight 71 kilos (estimated dry weight), approximately 15 years of age, fractured left olecranon…’ when a sequence of frustrated beeps distracted her. It was the other, malfunctioning Medi-box, giving up the ghost. Its lid opened and a boy with beautiful fair hair climbed out.

  A boy with beautiful fair hair, and an enormous rat…

  She knew immediately that he wasn’t like her. It wasn’t just the big rodent round his neck. It wasn’t the clothes, though they were strange – nice material, nice style, but not like anything she’d seen before. Or the stunning hair (unconsciously she put a hand up to her own cropped head). It was something else, something about the way his face was put together or a look in his eyes – something that made her overwhelmingly aware of difference…

  And then he grinned, a little shakily, and she was not so sure any more.

  ‘I don’t know when I’m going to get used to this,’ he said. ‘I’m Eo. Where’s Adom? He was trying to save us from the vortex, which was very brave, though it was actually the saint we were expecting to be given, so he may be a little confused. Well, actually, I am too. Where is this, and when is this?’

  These were the kinds of question Guardians asked when they suspected you of being under the influence of over-patching. ‘Greater Glasgow, 30/10/2314,’ she answered promptly, ‘and you’ve been acting a lot stranger than I have!’ She didn’t for an instant think he could actually be a Guardian… could he?

  ‘What? 2314?! That’s amazing! That’s really…’ He poked a finger at the creature round his neck. ‘Come on, Professor, aren’t you excited?! What are you being so quiet about? At least say hello to the nice lady – her box thing saved your life and groomed your fur all by itself.

  The rat heaved a long-suffering sigh. ‘Very subtle approach, Eo. Confront her with some completely unexplained strangers, throw in a linguistically superlative ferret to top things off and then watch while she screams and/or faints. Very diplomatic.’

  The animal turned his attention to Jay. Allow me to introduce myself, my dear. My name is Professor Pinkerton Hurple, and could you please take us to an adult person, preferably one with a good deal of power. I would also like to ask you, as a great personal favour, not to scream. Or faint. Or both.’

  ‘Well, I’ll be swamped,’ was all Jay could think of to say. ‘That’s some robot!’

  ‘Young woman, you are mistaken,’ said the rat, or – no, thought Jay, more like a weasel – I am not a robot.’

  ‘Really? Hologram, then?’

  The creature tutted.

  No. I am a ferret… but not an ordinary ferret. I am a ferret gifted with speech. And a rather enormous IQ.’

  Jay shrugged. ‘Fair enough,’ she said.

  There was a burst of agitated and unintelligible words from behind her. She swung round to see another boy standing beside the other box. He was shorter, stockier and not nearly as pretty as the Eo person, and he was waving one of his arms about as he came over to them.

  ‘What language is that?!’ exclaimed Jay. ‘What’s he saying?’

  ‘Adom, there you are,’ cried Eo, sounding relieved. Then he turned back to Jay. ‘No, I suppose you wouldn’t recognize that – I’ll translate. He says he wants to know where we are, of course, but he’s also saying he was absolutely sure he broke his arm, back on the beach,’ Eo translated. ‘It hurt like – it hurt a lot, apparently. And now…’

  ‘The Medi-box fixed it,’ said Jay. ‘It’ll have healed anything that needed it – it’s not going to let him out still damaged, is it? It’ll have mended any rips in his, um, smock thing too. Given him and his clothes generally a quick clean and dry.’

  But why do you need me to tell you that? she wondered. What game are you playing with me here? Where could you possibly come from that you don’t know what a Medi-box does?

  Actually, now you mention it, his skin’s looking a lot better too – did you notice?’ the one called Eo commented to the rat. Weasel. Ferret. Then, ‘Hey! I wonder –’ and he wrenched back the sleeve of his shirt. There were three angry-looking sores on his forearm. Just seeing them made Jay suck in her breath, but he seemed resigned to them being there.

  ‘I’m really sorry… I think the box you were in must have been malfunctioning,’ said Jay. ‘Those look like they hurt!’

  Eo shrugged. ‘G normally take care of healing themselves. Your box probably never met somebody like me before, and these –’ he pulled down his sleeve again, covering the welts – ‘well, if I can’t heal them, I guess it’s not surprising it couldn’t. My pain blocks are holding fine, though, so never mind.’

  Jay wasn’t sure she understood much of what had just been said.

  ‘I’m sorry – who did you say normally heal themselves?’ she said.

  ‘G,’ said Eo. ‘That’s me. G.’ He grinned at her.

  ‘You’re… Gee?’ said Jay.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Would you care to spell that?’

  ‘Sure. It’s spelled “G”.’

  ‘But…’ Suddenly Jay realized that time was passing, much too fast. She turned briskly. ‘Come on – we really should go now. With any luck the Guardians and the Medics will accept the False Alarm I coded in, but there’s bound to be Maintenance staff on their way to reset the RNLI equipment and…’ She noticed the total absence of comprehension on her audience’s faces. ‘Never mind, just come!’

 
; ‘Am I correct in assuming our present location is, in some way out of bounds?’ asked the non-robot.

  ‘You might say so,’ Jay replied drily.

  ‘Why’s that?’ asked the boy.

  ‘Perhaps it’s some sort of holy site,’ suggested the animal. ‘Or a religious taboo.’

  Jay rubbed her hand down her face. ‘Let me put it this way’ she said. ‘I’m leaving. You lot stick around if you want to.’

  After a quick translation to the stocky boy the strangers fell in behind her without further argument.

  It only occurred to Jay later that she’d become a minder after all.

  By the time she got her party of weirdos to the nearest station, it was late enough for the platform to be almost completely deserted. The few remaining commuters gave them some pretty disapproving looks, but nobody had the energy to ask questions. Jay had no trouble finding them an empty pod.

  And this will take us to a person in power?’ the ferret kept wittering, but Jay resolutely chose not to hear. She was in no hurry to hand them over to anyone.

  Thank goodness there’s nobody waiting for me at home, she thought. How lucky is that!

  I think we’ll take the quickest way’ she murmured to herself, coding in the route.

  As the train set off, Adom sat bolt upright, not moving a muscle. It looked as if, on some illogical level, his brain was telling him that the only way to survive all this strangeness was to not draw its attention.

  Eo, on the other hand, was fidgeting all over the place. He was having difficulty making himself comfortable leaning into the curve of the wall. ‘Things are quite round in your world, aren’t they?’ he said, waving a hand at the train of spheres moving through the cylindrical Tube.

  ‘What? Oh, yes, that’s right. Well, they would be, wouldn’t they? It’s the whole water-pressure thing. Spheres are the best shape underwater because the pressure gets distributed equally all the way round. Also there aren’t any seams. You use a square shape, you’ve got floors having to meet walls and walls having to join up with ceilings – and you’ve got leaks just waiting to happen. Spheres you can build all in one. Here…’ She reached across and showed him how to get a padded back to the bench to rise up from inside the seat. ‘You can do what you like with the inside! See…’