Fierce September

by Fleur Beale

  Paz tried a couple of questions of his own. ‘Do you know who kidnapped Willem? And what were they hoping it would achieve?’

  DI Whitely said, ‘We’re working on it.’

  So much for getting any information out of her.

  Even when our food arrived, she kept on chatting, asking questions and waiting for our answers as we wolfed down hamburgers and chips.

  Only after we’d drunk our tea and spoken our thanks did she snap into official mode. ‘Tell me what happened. Start from why you stowed away on the train.’

  Oh bliss, here it was again – the Hera question. Whether to tell or not. None of us spoke. Silvern, Paz and I looked at Marba.

  ‘We didn’t know we’d stowed away,’ he said after a moment. ‘We didn’t think about tickets either, which was foolish because we do know you need tickets on the city transport.’

  DI Whitely waved that away. ‘Why did you get on the train? How did you know Willem was on it?’

  Marba turned to me, his eyebrows raised. I nodded. There was no way to avoid telling her about Hera.

  So he told her everything, including how Hera had gone out alone in the dark to try to find Willem. How Mother was attacked when she went looking for her.

  ‘Hmm,’ said DI Whitely. She stared at the ceiling and said nothing for several long moments. Then she fixed her eyes on us. ‘Will you submit to a lie-detector test?’

  We gaped at her. ‘You think we’re lying?’ Silvern demanded.

  DI Whitely said blandly, ‘It’ll be useful to have the test results.’

  ‘We don’t want Hera to be part of this,’ I protested. ‘She’s only two. We have to protect her.’

  ‘But she is part of it. We’ll do our best to protect her, but that’s all I can promise.’ The DI was calm. ‘Do you consent?’

  We looked at each other. Should we do it? What would be the consequences if we didn’t? The decision seemed to be up to me. I shut my eyes, striving for rational thought. I hoped a lie-detector test wouldn’t be painful but if we refused to take it then she would assume we were lying, that we were hiding some guilty secret. Beyond my rational mind too was that same feeling of urgency I’d had about coming on this journey.

  ‘Okay. We’ll do it.’

  Oban said, ‘Detective Inspector, can you promise the results won’t be used unless it’s essential?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ She gave me the suggestion of a smile. ‘Now, which of you will take the test?’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ Marba said.

  Of course he would. Any chance to see how the mind worked and Marba was there.

  The DI stood up. ‘Excellent.’

  The rest of us stood up, but she motioned for us to sit down again.

  ‘We only need one of you …’

  I interrupted. ‘No, I think you need more than one.’ I stopped talking, trying to chase that urgent nagging. ‘I think you need to test all of us.’

  She raised her eyebrows but didn’t say anything.

  Silvern and Paz stood up again. ‘Let’s go then.’

  Oban came with us as we followed the DI from the room. ‘I can just about hear her mind chewing on that,’ Silvern whispered. ‘I bet she’s not sure if you’re crazy or a genius.’ She tilted her head, her eyes asking questions I didn’t know the answers to.

  I shrugged. ‘Dunno. It’s just a feeling. Probably just nerves.’

  I didn’t think so though, and by the sparkle in her eyes Silvern didn’t either. I wished I could see life as one big drama the way she did – so much easier to get excited about uncertainty and danger than worrying about it the way I seemed doomed to do.

  The DI took us to a waiting room and gave us instructions. During the test we were to keep as still as possible; we could answer only yes, no or I don’t know. After the test we would be taken to a different room so we couldn’t communicate with those of us still to be tested. We weren’t to talk to each other before the test either, and an officer would stay in the room to make sure we complied.

  Marba went first, followed by Paz and then Silvern. The wait seemed interminable, though it could’t have been much more than a half hour or so. When it was my turn to go to the testing room, I felt a complete bundle of nerves. The clinical feeling of the room didn’t help either.

  The man in charge had an easy manner that calmed me down a little. ‘Now, Juno, I’m guessing you’re like the other three and have never seen a lie-detector test before.’

  No, it wasn’t technology we’d had on Taris, although it would have saved us so much grief if we had.

  ‘Briefly,’ he said, ‘we do a scan of your brain. If you give an untrue answer, a particular part of your brain is activated. If you tell the truth, a different part shows up.’

  He instructed me to lie on a narrow bed which he then rolled forward so that my head was inside a kind of globe.

  ‘Okay?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  He laughed. ‘No, you’re not. What’s wrong?’

  I gasped. ‘I feel like I can’t breathe. But I want to do this. Can we start?’

  He pulled me out. ‘You’re probably a little claustrophobic. Keep your eyes closed and we’ll try again.’

  He waited for a few minutes, chatting about nothing, then rolled the bed back under the machine.

  ‘Better?’

  This time I waited, testing whether it was better. Yes, I could breathe properly. ‘I’m fine,’ I said.

  ‘Good girl. Here’s the first question. You found Willem on the train. Did you know he would be on it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you think he was already in New Plymouth?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did you know the train was the only way to get to New Plymouth?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you know Willem was in danger?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did your sister Hera tell you he was in danger?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you believe Willem is a good and honourable man?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Okay, Juno, that’s it.’ He helped me up. ‘I’m impressed – usually with a claustrophobic reaction people can’t take the test and we have to use old technology.’

  I thanked him and left the room. The other four were waiting for me without a police minder. When I sat down, I was still feeling shaky.

  Oban gave me a searching look, but Marba bounced on his toes. ‘Fascinating. I’m going to find out all I can about it. I wanted the guy to ask me something I could lie about, but he wouldn’t.’

  ‘He caught me out in a lie,’ I said, then hurried to explain because they looked so horrified.

  ‘Man!’ Marba shook his head. ‘Why aren’t I claustrophobic?’

  We laughed but I said, ‘You know — it wasn’t claustrophobia. It was more as if it all kind of crowded in and there was no room left for me.’

  An officer opened the door. ‘Come on. The DI wants to see you again.’ But DI Whitely didn’t invite us to sit down.

  ‘Did we pass?’ Paz asked.

  She smiled slightly. ‘You did. One hundred per cent. You’re free to go.’

  Where could we go? We looked at Oban, but he shook his head. ‘I’ve got to get back to work – I’m already later than I said I would be.’ He turned to the DI. ‘Do you think somebody from Willem’s school could look after them until they can get the train back to Wellington?’

  The DI organised it with one phone call, but she’d overlooked one vital detail.

  ‘We can’t get the train,’ Silvern said. ‘No money, no travel pass.’

  The DI sighed but made another phone call. ‘Okay, you can travel on the train this evening.’

  Her goodbye implied I don’t want to see you again in a hurry. Get out and let me get on with the important stuff.

  We left, hugged Oban, then climbed into the car the DI had ordered. We had lots of questions.

  ‘How far’s the school?’

  ‘And what’s it like?’ />
  The driver wasn’t chatty. ‘A fair way. You’ll see soon enough.’

  His terseness affected us. We rode in silence, but the day was fine and there was much to see. New Plymouth was a very different-looking city from Wellington: swathes of land filled with gardens surrounded groups of houses so that it was made up of little communities all interconnected by the roads.

  ‘I wonder if it was always like this.’ I stared hard at the back of our driver’s head, hoping he’d answer. He didn’t.

  We gazed mostly at the mountain though. Bigger than our Taris mountain, it looked less friendly, further away. Cloud covered its summit as well.

  At the edge of the town, the car turned into a long driveway, stopping in front of a low building. We were here? The driver didn’t say anything, so we got out of the car. But Paz was riled. Before he shut his passenger door, he leaned down and said to the driver, ‘Mate – how about you go back and do some research? Find out if there’s real evidence that we brought that killer virus.’ He slammed the door and dusted off his hands.

  The man revved the engine and took off.

  ‘Bastard!’ Paz yelled.

  Silvern said, ‘Don’t worry about him.’ But she picked up a pebble and hurled it after the vanished car.

  It was hard not to worry. First Mac, then the cop. Ninety per cent of the population of the country were probably against us.

  Marba called us to order. ‘We have to find out who’s behind all this if we want things to get better. Willem’s the priority right now, so let’s find out if we’re actually at the right place.’

  There was nobody around, but there was a notice board set in a small garden bursting with yellow flowers. ‘Damn it!’ Marba hit his head with the flat of his hand. ‘We’re going to have to up the reading skills. What’s it say, Juno?’

  I scanned it. ‘The school is called Fairlands – a whole lot of guff about the aims. About its history.’ I shrugged. ‘At least we know we’re in the right place.’

  Silvern pointed to a single word on a door to our right. ‘Off-ice. Office? Come on, let’s go.’

  I thought about what I’d read as I tagged along after them. Willem’s school taught mind development in addition to the normal curriculum. It had started fifteen years ago in 2070 because quite a few parents were asking for help in dealing with their children who seemed to have some sort of extra perception.

  ‘Come on, Juno. Quit the dreaming,’ Paz ordered. ‘Come here and tell us what this says.’

  But Marba had already worked it out. He sounded triumphant as he read the sign aloud. ‘If unattended, ring the bell.’

  I couldn’t resist it. I asked, ‘How does it feel, Marba, to be able to read the sign?’

  He didn’t even glance at me. ‘Great. It feels great. I shall practise this reading lark.’

  ‘But where’s the stupid bell?’ asked Silvern.

  Paz thumped his hand on a button. ‘Let’s hope it’s this, otherwise I might just have blown the whole place apart.’

  A door opened at the back of the office and a woman hurried through. ‘Oh goodness!’ She shook her head at us, dislodging a tumble of bright hair from its knot. ‘We’re not open today. I’m so sorry, but you’ll have to come back another day.’

  I half turned to leave, but Silvern’s voice halted me. ‘Is it because of Willem? He’s going to be all right, isn’t he?’

  The woman gasped, her hand going to her mouth. ‘But how … nobody knows … we thought it best not to …’

  ‘But he’s still alive?’ Silvern demanded.

  ‘Yes.’ The woman’s voice wobbled. ‘He’s very ill though. The hospital thinks he’ll be in a coma for some days. They must have given him a massive dose of whatever it was.’

  ‘But will he be okay?’ Marba asked. ‘Will he get better?’

  ‘They think so. They just can’t say definitely.’

  Silvern leaned forward to clasp the woman’s hands. ‘We’re so sorry. He’s been so good to us.’

  The woman’s face lit up. ‘Oh! You’re the Taris youngsters! You’re the ones who rescued him.’ She ran back to the door. ‘Wait there. I’ll be right back.’

  ‘Youngsters,’ Paz whispered. ‘We’ve never been youngsters before. I wonder if they feed youngsters?’

  Silvern poked a finger at his stomach. ‘You can’t be hungry again.’

  We didn’t talk about Willem. But our thoughts were with him. Don’t die. Don’t die.

  We waited quietly, watching Marba work his way around the lobby, reading all the notices. I wondered if he’d ask for help but he didn’t.

  ‘Listen!’ Paz turned towards the double doors at the side of the lobby. ‘What …?’

  But right then a group of adults, a few kids about our age and several younger ones poured through doors and we were surrounded.

  ‘Come with us. You are so welcome, indeed you are. We’re honoured to meet you.’ The words ran into each other and we found ourselves being led away in a swirl of goodwill. Some of the crowd were wiping their eyes.

  I didn’t like it, being in the middle of so many strangers. The way they surrounded me made it hard to breathe. I wanted to push them away, wanted to hold onto Marba, Silvern and Paz. I choked back the shout in my head: Don’t leave me. Don’t go away.

  Then suddenly the crowd parted, giving me space so that I could catch up with my friends. The panic faded and I could breathe again. I shook my head. So stupid. I knew these people would do us no harm, that they believed we were innocent of the evil laid on our shoulders.

  I kept my head down, kept my eyes on Silvern’s feet, looking up only when we stopped. We were in a big room filled with low chairs and couches. ‘Please, sit down.’ It was a man speaking. He was quite young, maybe a bit older than Mother and Dad, and he had a smile that tipped up at one corner and down at the other. His name was Jethro Steele, he told us, and he was the head of the school.

  ‘But isn’t Willem the head?’ Marba asked.

  ‘He started it,’ Jethro said. ‘It was his baby. But he’s been retired for a few years now, although he’s still very much our mentor.’

  The woman with the tumbling hair – Christina – was one of the teachers. Jethro told us the names of a few more. Then the kids all said who they were, and again I was overwhelmed with too many people battering at me. It was all I could do not to scuttle backwards into a corner and hide under a sofa. I shut my eyes and tried to breathe slowly.

  A quiet shushing of feet moving made me look up. All the people except Jethro, Christina and a scrawny boy of about ten were leaving the room.

  Christina smiled at me. ‘I’m so sorry. We should have realised you’re not yet used to crowds of strangers. It’s just that we’re so grateful to have the four of you here, to be able to thank you.’

  I gaped at her. How did she know that the world had been about to crush me?

  She smiled again. ‘That’s what this school is all about – being aware of the world beyond the five senses.’

  I refused to look in Marba’s direction. He’d be sitting up, eyes gleaming, begging for more.

  ‘Will you tell us your names?’ Jethro asked.

  Marba introduced us. The boy told us his name: Thomas.

  ‘Can you tell what we’re thinking?’ Silvern demanded. She stuck her chin out, ready to fight anyone who tapped into her mind.

  Thomas sniggered. ‘I can tell you’d be steaming furious if we could.’

  Christina sent him a look. He apologised, but he wasn’t even a smidgen sorry. He sat there grinning at us. Christina shook her head at him but he just kept right on with the grinning. Silvern turned her back on him.

  But Thomas hadn’t finished showing how smart he was. ‘You’d better be careful, Silver girl. Getting angry makes you sick, and I can see that you get angry a zillion times a day.’

  ‘Thomas!’ Christina spoke sharply. ‘Remember your manners.’

  ‘Sorry,’ he said again, grinning like a clown.

  Sil
vern kept her back to him.

  ‘We don’t read thoughts,’ Jethro said after a moment. ‘But we are trained to be aware of feelings.’ He smiled at me. ‘Yours were very strong, Juno, and when we became aware of the reason we acted to alleviate the problem.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I muttered. Thomas smirked. It was as if he was saying, Cowardy custard, scared of a few kids. He made me feel small, as if I wasn’t as smart as him. I shut him out of my mind.

  Jethro turned to Marba. ‘I’m aware that you want a whole lot more information, but can you bear with us for the moment? We’d very much like to know how it was you were able to rescue Willem.’ He looked next at Paz. ‘We’ll sweeten the telling for you by providing food and drink.’

  Paz gave a grunt of laughter and relaxed back on the sofa. We waited in silence for a few moments until two of the older boys brought in a tray of food and pots of tea.

  The food was good. I ate a small cake and thought about the telling of our story. At least this audience would believe Hera’s part in it, although I didn’t want Thomas to hear it. Could he sense that, I wondered. I didn’t look at him.

  When the boys had cleared away, Marba began the story. All the time I was aware of Thomas processing the information, curling his lip over Hera’s part in it as if he was dismissing her abilities as inferior. Why was he here? Why was he the favoured one who could remain when all the other kids left? It couldn’t have been a reward for good behaviour.

  Marba finished our story, and Jethro drew breath to speak, but I beat him to it. ‘Thomas, why are you here? Why aren’t you with the other kids?’

  Marba, Silvern and Paz swivelled round to look at him. ‘Good question,’ snapped Silvern. ‘What’s so special about a little sniveller like you?’

  His mouth dropped open. ‘You’re angry with me!’

  She clapped her hands. ‘Golly gosh, how clever of you to work that out.’ She leaned forward. ‘For what it’s worth, I think you’re a rude, smarmy, up-himself little git. And that’s just for starters.’

  Marba, Paz and I watched him, glancing too at the adults. Their faces were calm and they said nothing.

  Thomas kept gaping at Silvern, kind of gasping for breath every few seconds.