Fierce September

by Fleur Beale

  The judge tsked. ‘I do hope the television audience relishes all the emotion of this court today, but I do not, young woman, and you will do well to remember that.’ But she took pity on me. ‘You may sit down while we wait.’

  A policewoman led me to a chair beside the dock. I was glad to sit. I tried to smile at Mother. My mouth wouldn’t work. She was striving for calm. Hera reached up to stroke her face and whispered something. Mother relaxed. I felt cheered. Camnoon’s face was as serene as ever. My stratum all sat on the edges of their seats. They looked expectant, not worried. I hoped they were right to be so.

  I kept my eyes away from the people behind my friends. They talked among themselves and sent spiteful looks in my direction.

  Too late – it was too late if I was wrong. And if I was, then I had destroyed forever our chances of being able to live at peace in this country. Don’t think of that, don’t think of it. But why this interminable delay? Would Brighton Hainsworth never come back? He’d been gone now for more than half an hour. The test would take less than a minute. What was happening?

  I looked up at the judge. She was reading papers on her desk, her face calm.

  The door behind me opened. I stood quickly and returned to the dock before the judge had time to order me to. It was lucky I did. Brighton Hainsworth was being escorted by two policemen who had trouble holding him even though his hands were cuffed behind his back. As he passed, he kicked the chair I’d been sitting on, making it fly across the room. He shouted, ‘Release me at once! This whole thing is a beat-up, can’t you see that, you stupid cops! Let me go or I’ll take you to court and have you clapped in jail for the rest of your miserable lives.’

  The judge banged the gavel until he quietened. The policemen didn’t let him go.

  ‘The results of the test, please.’

  The court clerk handed her a paper. She scanned it. There was a curious atmosphere in the room, an air of waiting, of expectancy – the rabid hate against me had vanished as everyone focused on the judge and the document in front of her. At last she raised her head.

  ‘Sir, you answered no to this question: “Brighton Hainsworth, did you knowingly infect another person with the pandemic virus?” That was a lie.’ She let the rush of chatter continue for several moments before she banged the gavel. Into the silence she read the next question. ‘You answered no to the question: “Have you at any time posted on the internet things which you knew to be untrue about the Taris group”. She waited a beat, but she looked shaken. ‘That too was a lie.’

  I felt giddy. The blood seemed to have vanished from my head. I sank to the floor of the dock. The policewoman rushed over to help me up, then kept her arm around me as she led me to a chair. I sat down, trying to believe that now the hate would stop.

  Noise buzzed through the room; the cameras swivelled, searching to catch shocked faces. The judge let it go on for perhaps a minute before she raised both her hands, palms out. It was more effective than the gavel. The chatter ceased.

  ‘First I will deal with the charges against Juno of Taris. Charge number one of breaking quarantine. This court deems that you have already been punished, first by being held in custody overnight and secondly by being subjected along with your compatriots to the abusive lies spread about you.’

  I think I gaped at her.

  She went on, ‘The second charge of conspiring to abduct Willem Brasted is dismissed. You are free to go.’

  I burst into tears. The judge didn’t comment, but seemed to fix all her attention on the lawyer. ‘Brighton Hainsworth, you will be held in custody pending your trial. Officers, take him away.’ She waited while he was hustled, swearing and kicking, from the courtroom. Then she looked directly into the camera.

  ‘It is clear from today’s revelations that the hysteria regarding the Taris group has been whipped up by people such as Brighton Hainsworth for purposes of their own. I want to remind you that the facts,’ she stressed the word, ‘indicate that the people of Taris have done nothing wrong, nothing wicked. They did not bring the virus. They did not spread the virus. On the contrary, we owe them a debt of gratitude for their part in stopping the disease. Any further attempts to discredit them will be taken very seriously indeed. That is all. The court is adjourned.’

  She left the room.

  Are you watching? Turn on the television! It’s Juno.

  Have you heard? That lawyer’s the one on the Centre minicomps this morning.

  Did you see? Marba and his stratum kept looking at Juno as if they wanted to get into her head.

  www.warningtheworld.blogspot.com The outrage

  continues

  22

  FINAL DAYS OF QUARANTINE

  CHAOS ERUPTED. REPORTERS AND CAMeras dived at me, but the kindly policeman was there warding them off. ‘Juno,’ he said, ‘we need to get some answers from you. If you’ll come with me please.’

  I stood up. Mother did too, saying, ‘We’ll all come. We have all had a part in what’s happened. You need to speak to us all.’

  He opened a little gate in the barrier separating the seating from the court. ‘Follow me. All of you.’

  Even Camnoon came. We made a crowd in a room too small for us. I sat on the floor, leaning against the wall with the rest of my stratum. Hera climbed on my lap.

  ‘Bad man. He’s mean.’

  ‘Yes darling. Hush, it’s all right now.’ I hoped it was, for I had used all my strength.

  They brought food and drink before they questioned us: bread rolls, cake and tea. I ate everything. No breakfast and too much emotion make for a huge hunger.

  The man who questioned us was Superintendent Smithson whom Mother had demanded to speak to only last night. He went through our story piece by piece. I was relieved to let Silvern, Marba and Paz answer the questions. When Biddo had to explain how he’d found the lists, Superintendent Smithson raised his eyebrows. ‘Impressive.’

  We came to Hera’s part in it. Mother said, ‘Willem warned us not to tell of her unusual abilities. He said it could be dangerous. Please – if you can – will you keep her out of it?’

  He didn’t promise, but he smiled when Hera said, ‘Willem’s my friend.’

  Somebody knocked on the door and came in. ‘The media, sir. Want to know if you’ll be holding a press conference.’

  ‘Yes. When I’ve finished here.’

  ‘They want to talk to the Taris people too, sir.’

  ‘Of course they do, Grantham. They’ll just have to wait.’

  But the questioning was nearly done. Then Superintendent Smithson told us what to expect from the media over the next few days. It sounded daunting. ‘I advise you to make a statement now. I’ll be able to protect you to some extent. Who is your spokesperson?’

  Camnoon said, ‘I will speak for us.’ He smiled briefly at Silvern. ‘Silvern, I know you would do it better, but I think this is a case where restraint will win the day over excessive emotion.’

  She bowed her head. ‘I comply with your wisdom, Camnoon.’ Then she grinned at him. ‘Although it’ll kill me to keep my mouth shut.’

  It felt good to have a reason to laugh again.

  The superintendent led us out of the room, down a corridor and back into the courtroom. It was jammed with people and cameras. We lined up in front of the bench. The superintendent stood above us on the dais where the judge had sat. But what he said next astonished us, made me furious too. Beside me, Silvern hissed.

  The authorities knew from the start that we were innocent, he said. The dates of our arrival didn’t match the onset of the pandemic. At first, the police thought the pandemic was just a terrible coincidence, but they let the hate against us rage while they tried to track down its source. ‘The group who carried out the bombing refused to speak. They maintained they acted alone, but the hate-speak all over the net always suggested otherwise. We were unable, despite our best efforts, to track the accusations to any person. Until today.’ He stopped for a moment. ‘You will be as shocked as I
am at the revelation that this latest pandemic has been deliberately spread by a group of people in the country. A group who clearly wanted to blame the Taris group.’

  ‘Any idea why, sir?’

  ‘No. Nothing at present.’

  The questions kept coming, fired from all over the room. Then somebody called out, ‘Can we hear from the Taris people?’

  Camnoon stepped forward. ‘I am Camnoon, one of the elders of Taris and one of the original settlers.’ He spoke of the deep distress we had suffered from the accusations. ‘We are a people of peace. Such deeds as we have been accused of form no part of who we are. We owe our lives to the people of Aotearoa. We seek to honour that by being good citizens, people who contribute to the well-being of all. That is how we have lived our lives and that is how we continue to live our lives.’

  But they wanted facts, they wanted a story. In the end, Silvern got her wish, but Camnoon’s dignity tempered her telling. She didn’t indulge in dramatics, and the story of the attack on Mother and of finding Willem was chilling and powerful because of it.

  They wanted to know how we had known Willem was on the train. Without a moment’s hesitation, Silvern said, ‘We didn’t know, but we’d overheard something in town that day – They’re sending Willem to New Plymouth then? We tried to contact him after Sheen was attacked and we got worried when he didn’t reply.’

  I hoped our faces didn’t show our thoughts – and that nobody would ask for a lie-detector test. The next questioner, though, asked if we knew why we’d been the target of such hate. We breathed again as Camnoon answered, ‘We have no idea at all.’

  That must have satisfied them. After that, the media people left in a rush. ‘Running to catch deadlines,’ Superintendent Smithson explained. ‘You’re free to go as well now that’s over.’ He sent us back to the Centre in a van.

  I wasn’t looking forward to confronting Roop. I hadn’t guessed the depth of her distrust of me and of Hera, and even if I had I’d never have suspected she’d talk about us the way she had – and to an Outsider she knew nothing about. It was pure luck things had turned out for the best, and that was thanks to my stratum and not to her. I wasn’t ready to be kind to her.

  She was waiting for us. Her eyes were swollen and she was still weeping. Merith clung to her.

  Shallym ran to the little girl and lifted her into her arms. ‘Hush, Merith. Mummy will be better soon. Don’t worry. I promise.’

  Hera wriggled from Mother’s arms. ‘Merith play with Hera.’

  Shallym set her down and the two of them ran into the dining room, heading for the box of toys.

  I stood back as Mother put her arms around Roop. ‘Roop dear, it’s all right, truly it is. Don’t you see? Because you talked to that man, everyone now knows that the terrible things people have been saying about us aren’t true.’

  But it took a long time to calm Roop. I kept my distance. I was still angry but I was also aware that I should still be in quarantine. The fact that she had reason to hate me for that didn’t improve my temper. But she made the first move. She came over to me and put her hand hesitantly on my arm.

  ‘From my heart, I’m sorry, Juno.’

  For a moment I didn’t respond, then I caught a meaningful look from Mother and I dragged out the right words. ‘But you have saved us, Roop. And you were right to be angry with me. I’m sorry too.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She turned away, and Mother led her to a table. ‘Sit down, Roop dear. I’ll make you some tea.’

  I took deep breaths and was glad I’d avoided a scolding from my mother. I tried to put Roop out of my mind.

  That evening we ate together in the big room, watching the television while we did so. Clips of what had happened in court replayed every few minutes, with commentary from various people asking questions nobody could answer. Who had developed the virus? Why? Who was evil enough to do such a thing? Without exception, each commentator said how people now owed the Taris group an enormous apology. Not one of them hinted that they too had blamed us.

  ‘I’d like just one of them to admit they blamed us and to say they’re sorry,’ Sina remarked.

  It wasn’t going to happen and the more the commentators talked, the more they seemed to convince themselves that they had been the only ones to work out that we couldn’t have brought the virus and that we were good and honourable people.

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Mother said. ‘The important thing is that everyone now knows we’re innocent.’

  Most of us though felt it did matter, but we so clearly weren’t going to get any apology that shortly we switched the television off.

  At around eight o’clock Fergus came in, looking for Biddo. He was smiling. ‘Phone call for you, mate.’

  Biddo jumped up. ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Best you take it and find out,’ Fergus said. He handed over the phone.

  ‘Hello?’ Biddo sounded as if whoever he was speaking to might want to arrest him. ‘What? Really? Yes. No, that’s all right. Love to. Okay. I’ll be there. Sure. I’ll tell them.’ He threw the phone in the air. ‘Yee haaaa!’

  Fergus caught it. ‘That would mean good news, I’m picking.’

  Biddo calmed down a fraction. ‘It was the techno shop. They say they’re real sorry and will I come back. Oh, and they say sorry to everybody.’

  ‘Yay!’ Silvern shouted. ‘An apology! Good for them!’

  And so the change in our fortunes began. Although I was deadly tired, I stayed in the big room while Biddo searched the net to find out what was being posted about us now. It was good, and here we found the apologies we wanted.

  I’m sorry I got carried away.

  I shouldn’t have believed that rubbish.

  I always thought you looked like good people.

  ‘Thanks. For nothing,’ Rynd said.

  There were job offers too: for computer work, in horticulture, animal husbandry, nursing, forestry, building. The offers poured in.

  Finally, Camnoon asked Biddo to help him post a message. He wrote: We of Taris thank you for your generous offers. In three days all our people who have been helping around the country will be back with us again. We will respond then to the kind offers of work.

  Amid all the drama and excitement of the day, I’d not had time to think about the return of Dad and my grandparents in a couple of days’ time. They were booked on the evening train and would be with us at midnight. For a moment I had even forgotten that Grif would be absent. Now, the reality of what had happened was beginning to sink in.

  I bade the others goodnight and went up with Mother and Sina to our apartment. Sina walked in a glow of happiness. Jov would be with her in two days and he would hold his son for the first time.

  The following morning, Brex came in early to tell me to hurry up unless I wanted to be left behind – they were all going into town. But Mother said, ‘You’re still in quarantine, Juno. Don’t give anyone cause to blame you for anything.’

  I wanted to argue, but knew she was right. I booted a cushion instead. ‘I hate this stupid place!’ The previous day’s euphoria had vanished in an instant.

  Brex hugged me. ‘Sorry Juno.’ Then she was gone. I didn’t blame her – I’d have done exactly the same.

  They were a long two days while we waited for our people to come back, waited out my quarantine. When my stratum got home that first evening, they told of how people had kept stopping them to say they were sorry, and how much they looked forward to us living among them.

  Silvern handed me a brown paper parcel. ‘For you. From the bookshop guy.’

  I ripped the paper off. Inside was a book of myths and legends of Aotearoa. I opened it, full of wonder at the rich pictures. I owned two books – two.

  ‘He said to tell you he understands why you didn’t tell him who you were,’ she said, laughing at me.

  ‘Tell him thank you. Oh wow!’ Then I remembered Magda. ‘Tomorrow, would you go into Newtown?’ I told them how Magda had been so kind to Vima and me, and how she
had helped us the day the pandemic started. ‘I’d like to know that she’s all right. That she’s …’ I couldn’t say still alive. ‘That she’s well.’

  They promised, pleased to have a reason to explore a different area of the city.

  The next day, Mother, Hera, Sina and I spent much of the day on the roof, lying in the warmth of a weak sun while I read them stories from the book. That evening I waited for my friends down in the lobby. They burst through the door, happy and hyped from another day of freedom in a world that no longer hated us.

  ‘Did you see her?’ I scanned their faces.

  ‘She’s fine,’ Silvern said. ‘Sends you her love and says to tell you she’s well and happy.’ She handed me a cardboard box. ‘For you, with love from Magda.’

  It was a chocolate cake decorated with tiny flowers. I wanted to share it with them, but Paz rubbed his stomach and said, ‘She’s already fed us. We mightn’t ever need to eat again.’

  He just grinned when we mocked him.

  Marba said, ‘Share it with your mum and Sina.’

  I took the cake upstairs. It was hard to believe, but it now seemed that life would be good to me in this Outside country. First there was a book and right now there was cake to eat. Tomorrow, by midnight, the rest of my family would be with us. Tomorrow I would be out of quarantine. Vima and Wilfred would come back – and Jov too. Trebe, Oban and others who had gone far away would begin their journeys back to us. All would be well – except that somewhere out there was a person evil enough to kill people indiscriminately, cunning enough to devise a plan that put the blame on us, and we were no closer to knowing who or why.