Marcus shook his head.
“I’m not asking you to be thankful, but to think about it.”
The only answer was a sullen silence, and the Secretary sighed.
“I’ve brought some clothes here for you. Is there anything you need?”
Julia nodded, sitting up on the bed.
“Yes. A shower.”
Eyes pierce the steam and land on the mirror - hard as shards of iron, puzzling like a frozen abyss. Julia observes her own body, bright eyes in a frighteningly pale face following the darting muscles under the skin of arms, torso, back. The greenish, yellow remains of bruises, cuts and scabs that still have to heal.
She keeps on looking until the steam veils the mirror and the hate in her stare.
“Julia!”
Cleo’s smile quickly faded, as she observed her sister. The joy on her face instantly turned into a surprised and worried frown.
“What did they do to you?”
Julia brought thin fingers to her face, touching her cheekbones with her fingertips, exhibiting a small nervous smile.
“Have I lost much weight?”
Cleo looked at her sternly, snapping nervously - she knew her sister too well to be fooled like that.
“It’s not that. It’s all the rest that has changed.”
Soldier Mayne was surprised by the strength of that statement, and her composure softened as she gave in to curiosity.
“What has changed, Cleo?”
The younger girl’s smile shone again for a moment.
“Nothing between us.”
She kept on speaking, seriously, before Julia could change the subject.
“But your aura, your eyes, your way of occupying space have completely changed.”
“In what sense?”
“As if you had metal in your veins, not blood, and had received so much hammering on the forge that you have become a weapon. Should you meet Maxim today, you would slaughter him and continue on your way without even glancing at him twice. They have turned all your fears in hate and rage.”
Julia bowed her heady, her eyes veiled by a sudden sadness at the truth of those words. When she spoke her voice was tired and wavering.
“I don’t even know if this is what they wanted.”
Cleo’s voice piped back up as she realized how much her sister’s mood had darkened.
“What they wanted is not important. It seems obvious you need some rest. When are you coming home?”
Julia lifted her eyes and smiled.
“I should be there in two days.”
Champion of the Empire Mayne received the rank of Advanced Corps Captain on a cold and rainy day of the eleventh month. She was alone at the ceremony, nor did she receive any information on her comrades. She didn’t ask.
Her eyes were following the raindrops on the other side of the window pane, as Skintilla read the oath of loyalty to the Emperor out loud.
“I vow, in the name of the memory of the Cataclysm, to follow with loyalty the figure who guided us in that moment, and all those who act in his name.”
Julia’s voice sounded terribly young, as she pronounced those solemn words in a perfectly inexpressive tone.
“I confirm my commitment to dedicating my life and actions to the survival of the human race and the common good.”
When the ceremony was over, Julia finally tore her gaze away from the rain to look at Skintilla - the Instructor nodded and Marcus signed the papers as witness.
There was no storm that day in the eyes of the newly promoted Captain. Her irises were dark pools of deep and cold desolation, for Julia could feel, like claws in her guts, that this apparent success had been paid for with a life of sacrifice and pain that could not be compensated by a pat on the back and gold paint on her cage. She was aware she was just a number in the mechanism of the Empire, a number where she had merely gained a digit.
Skintilla solemnly handed over a copy of her new identification badge, and informed her that new uniforms for her stay in the city had already been delivered to her room. She opened and shut her right fist, mechanically accepting the object from the Instructor, who sent her an encouraging smile, before leaving the room with a formal salute and a flash of her hair.
Julia found herself face to face with Marcus. To her surprise, he was also handing her something.
“Take it. It’s yours.”
His dark eyes looked at the impassible face of the young Captain, and she found herself looking at her left hand, where the Secretary had slipped a small metal object.
The girl closed her fingers on the music reader Marcus had left her before leaving. Trying to ignore the chaos she was feeling in her chest, she raised her gaze to look at her mentor. She twisted her lips in the attempt of a smile.
“Thank you.”
Julia sits at the side of the bed in a room that soon won’t be hers, stares at the wall with the dull display of the videophone, her hands on the covers, knuckles just barely raised and nails scratching at the soft surface of the mattress.
She closes her eyes for a moment, then her back arches forwards and her entire figure shrivels up, forehead resting on her knees. From the shaking of her shoulders, and suffocated moans, it is clear that Captain Mayne is crying, crying for hours.
VI
The door opened up, recognizing Cleo’s badge. Blonde curls wavered for a moment when the girl was startled by the figure rising to meet her from the sofa – a second later she was jumping in her sister’s arms, who was so surprised she hesitated a moment before squeezing her tightly, a smile of sheer delight on her face.
“Cleo! How are you?”
The girl look at Julia in the eye, happy to see the light burning in there and beaming a smile in return.
“I’m fine. Did you have a good trip?”
The aerovehicle abandons the deserted base in the deep dark preceding dawn, and from the window a swath of dense ink briefly turns to red, revealing a landscape of clouds which soon become homogeneously gray.
Her head leaning on a side, tired half-closed eyes, Julia ponders, her stare as gray as the scenery and the thick silence dividing her from Marcus.
“… I guess not, from the face you made.”
Cleo’s eyebrows arched in a worried expression, but Julia shook her head to flick off the memories, and smiled at her.
“Don’t worry, no problem. What about you?”
She looked at her sister, weighing her minute features, her thin wrists.
“You’ve lost weight.”
Cleo was quick to react.
“Look who’s talking!”
“My diet has been variable, yours is stable.”
“I was nervous and didn’t sleep much, lately.”
She lowered her eyes, as if ashamed to speak of her own health. Julia noticed and smiled at her once again.
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you, I just want to make sure you are ok.”
Cleo lifted her eyes and smiled back.
“I’m fine, I’m fine.”
“So, what about this Dreas?”
“He said he was going to leave us alone so we could talk freely.”
“I understand. But I’m curious.”
Cleo grinned, not without some malice.
“I think he’s quite afraid of the Champion of the Empire.”
Julia’s shoulders flopped down to a sad position.
“Oh come on, what did you tell him?”
Cleo’s expression returned serious.
“Nothing, he found out we were related when I didn’t show up at the Study Center the days before the duel.”
Julia nodded.
“I see.”
Cleo’s tone lightened once again.
“Anyway, I see your uniform is different, but I don’t know what that means. Tell me everything!”
“Oh.”
Julia’s voice was blanker than she would have wished.
> “They promoted me to the Advanced Corps with the rank of Captain.”
“You don’t seem very happy about it.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know in what mess I’ve just landed.”
For a moment it seemed that Cleo was going to say something, but she didn’t, with a face that was not lost to her sister.
“What were you going to say?”
Julia’s peremptory tone made Cleo jump, and she shrugged guiltily and shook her head.
“I was thinking that you could always turn back if you wanted to, but then I realized that obviously after all the sacrifices you made, you have no intention doing anything like that. It was a stupid thought, sorry.”
At these words the Captain felt her shoulders slump from the weight of great sense of fatigue, and flopped down on the couch, bringing a hand to her forehead.
“No, you should excuse me. It’s that you’re right, I wouldn’t stand turning back, not after…”
She stopped mid-sentence, but it was too late.
Cleo sat by her side, taking her shoulder and turning her around to look at her in the eye.
Her voice, dense with worry, demanded an answer.
“Julia, what did they do to you?”
Cleo was lying on the bed, glancing sideways towards Julia, who had fallen asleep immediately, showing just how much rest she still required to return to complete health. The girls had spoken of the training in the R3 base, but unsaid words were still lingering in the air, suffocated by a dark fear and a strange sense of shame.
Captain Mayne was sleeping entirely curled up, in a position Cleo had not seen her sleep in for years, since before her work at the Ministry. Suddenly, she started shaking - thinking she might be cold, Cleo got up to fetch another blanket, but a reflection of the dim light revealed tears streaking down Julia’s cheeks in her restless sleep.
Cleo clenched her fists and bit her lip, crestfallen, uncertain, and in that moment Julia turned and opened her eyes, upset and tired but clearly awake. She closed her eyes once again and whispered sleepily.
“You can’t sleep? Am I bothering you?”
“No, no. It’s not you.”
“I’m sorry. Dreas could have stayed, I would have slept on the couch.”
Cleo sat up quickly, underlining her word with the gesture.
“Are you kidding? I’m happy to be with you, and I often ask Dreas to sleep at his own house anyway.”
Julia kept her eyes closed, but frowned in the dark.
“Why?”
“I don’t want the Office for Resource Management to open a procedure to reassign this house, with the excuse that you are out and Dreas and I share a bed.”
Julia opened her eyes and took Cleo’s hand, squeezing it gently for a moment.
“They won’t. It’s part of my deal with Marcus, that and the Level I Education Permit.”
Cleo squeezed her hand in return, scowling.
“Are you sure the price you’re paying for all of this isn’t too high? We can try other ways.”
Julia smiled slightly, shaking her head from the pillow, eyes closing once again under the power of an intrusive sleep.
“No, don’t worry. I could never return to the Ministry.”
And then she fell asleep.
When the buzz of the alarm echoed in the half-shadow of the room, Cleo noticed that Julia was already up. She pulled a jacket on and went out to look for her sister.
She found her on the floor of the entrance hall of the house, intent in doing push-ups.
34, 35, 36. The right arm gives up at the thirty seventh push-up, Julia ends up sprawled on the cold tiled floor. She stubbornly lowers her head, oblivious to Cleo’s perplexed look, and performs the last three elements of the series slowly, arms trembling. She stands up without raising her eyes, zips up the coat of her black city uniform, wiping the sweat from her forehead with her hand.
“Good morning!”
Julia jumped, turning around and seeing Cleo.
“Hello! I hadn’t noticed you.”
“You’re doing your homework?”
A smile softened Cleo’s ironic expression, while the Captain slowly sat down on the sofa, crossing her arms as if cold.
“No, I don’t feel fit. I had to stop because of cold sweat.”
“You have to leave tomorrow for your new assignment?”
Julia nodded, turning around to rummage in one of her backpacks, still talking.
“Yes. I have an appointment with Marcus today to understand what the mission is about.”
She pulled out of the bag a yellow object, a little longer than her hand and slightly bent inwards.
“I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
Julia raised her eyes to look at Cleo and smiled, her eyes not gray but light blue and shining in her pale face.
“I hope so.”
She pulled out a knife from a pocket, and opened it to reveal its 5-6 cm blade. Cleo watched her sister with fascination and surprise as she used the weapon to notch the outer layer of the yellow object to extract its content, seemingly soft, opaque and of a paler shade of yellow.
Rising to throw away the casing in the incinerator of the building, Julia tilted the object in Cleo’s direction.
“Do you want to taste it? It’s a banana, they say it’s a very nourishing fruit.”
She smiled, catching her sister’s hesitation.
“It shouldn’t bother you if you only take a small bite.”
Cleo blinked cautiously, but finally surrendered to curiosity.
“Ok, I’ll give it a try.”
She took the tiny slice of the fruit between her thumb and index finger, placed it in her mouth and gulped it down, head back, like she would do with her tablets - a moment later she was coughing and trying to swallow.
Julia couldn’t help laughing, while quickly grabbing a bottle of water from her bag and passing it to her sister.
“Not like that, you have to chew!”
“I think I understood that!”
Cleo’s voice was still kind of strangled by the cough, but her eyes were shining. The joint laughter of the two sisters warmed the room.
Nothing had changed in Marcus’ elegant office - only the music was different, a kind of regular, rolling and powerful thunder.
The Secretary anticipated her question.
“It’s the sound of the sea. I’ll send it to you, if you like it.”
He smiled, looking at her carefully with his dark brown eyes.
“You look well.”
Julia couldn’t hide a flash in her gray eyes; Marcus’ smile broadened.
“Go ahead, I’m listening.”
The girl shook her head, staring at the ground.
“I don’t understand how you can say that. I couldn’t do 40 push-ups without feeling sick this morning! I can’t imagine what Skintilla would say.”
“She would say they are not necessary.”
Julia remained in silence, enraged by the unclear joy on the Secretary’s face, who completely ignored her words.
“Let me quickly go through your mission: I have the impression you might be interested.”
She breathed out, hiding her fear behind a blank look, concentrating on Marcus’ words.
“I spoke with the Department of Knowledge about your idea of translating the Terrorists’ language.”
Julia straightened up on the chair.
“They agree with me that such knowledge would be a great progress for us, compared to the current situation.”
The Secretary paused again, conveying with this simple gesture the idea of long conversations and negotiation, his commitment and his effort in this project.
“The Department and I have also arrived to the conclusion that we can launch a research expedition. And this is where you come in the picture.”
Julia was perfectly still, listening, her eyes half-closed.
“You have to gather a sample of
the sounds the Terrorists make, as a reaction to different situations. You will have under your command about a dozen soldiers from Operational Base 07.”
The girl recovered her speaking skills.
“But how am I supposed to guide them, if I can’t even do a few push-ups!”
He observed her with his unflappable little smile.
“Captain Mayne, remember you are going to guide your troops with the agility of your mind, not with the strength of your arm.”
Then he lowered his voice, softening his tone.
“Julia, I can understand your fear, but you’ll see it’s going to be fine. After all, this mission exists because of your idea.”
Then Marcus recovered his usual professional tone, seeing that the girl was sighing, but had also relaxed a little.
“Questions?”
“Yes. Why was OB07 chosen?”
The Secretary nodded, as if approving the question.
“According to our data on the migration patterns of the Terrorists, more groups should soon converge in that area. Samples coming from different sources should help us understand if there are differences in the languages of the different groups.”
“So, if I take this correctly, the quadrant is going to be densely populated - but I have to avoid a clash and merely provide the Terrorists with different situations which will allow me to record their sounds.”
“Exactly.”
“Is the aim of my mission going to be public? What am I supposed to tell my team?”
Marcus pulled a face, thoughtful.
“Formally, you don’t even owe an explanation to the Commander of the base. I have already spoken with her personally.”
He seemed to reflect a moment before speaking again.
“Probably the best course of action could be to maintain some privacy, without secrecy. How much you want to reveal is going to be your choice.”
Julia pressed her lips together in a concentrated expression.
“Good.”
“The aerovehicle will be waiting for you tomorrow at 17.00.”
“Ok.”
Marcus captured her gaze, looking at her intently.
Julia Dream Page 7
