Sudden buzzing filled the hall and all heads angled towards the entrance.
‘That’s Governor Tisya,’ Crispin whispered in her ear.
Zinnia instantly turned in the direction of the bustle. A lady as tall as Iris swept past them. Her hair was cut so short around her head that for a moment Zinnia thought she was bald. Her white dress was so tightly moulded around her body that it was difficult to make out if she was wearing trousers or a gown. It fitted her like a metallic armour. Her movements were swift yet unhurried and she carried an air of total control and command. Behind her, Commander Hertz marched in a solemn manner. Zinnia watched fascinated as she swept between the aisles and climbed on to the stage. The Altklugs clapped as an audiocrone immediately slid in the air and positioned itself before her.
‘Sit down kids,’ the Governor began and her voice clear and sharp, vibrated from all the corners of the K. Port. ‘Today is an important day in your lives. You will now step into the real world with your invaluable chips of knowledge and aspirations. But remember, you will be received with respect and awe as long as you dedicate your lives to the betterment of the Altklug Ace-world. You too will reap the fruits of your hard work and involvement. Progress and development will take on a new meaning for you. The future is yours to build or yours to destroy. The real world does not tolerate laziness, indiscipline or stupidity. It is tough and brutal but only if you allow it to be, so step into the real world with a clear vision—the vision of a powerful Altklug Ace-world in sync with science, knowledge and technology, a world of limitless possibilities and perfection, a world which we have all sworn to enhance. So, step into it with an aim. Step into it with a plan. Step into it with zero tolerance for wastage of time. Use every day, hour, second to give the world your best. To give our world your best...Good luck!’
A deep, stunned silence followed the thundering speech and then the audience broke into a rapturous applause. They rose spontaneously and Governor Tisya nodded. In that instant Zinnia understood why Governor Tisya had such a hold on the Altklug Ace-world. Why she had been elected time and again to lead this perfect Dome of super knowledge? It was because she was the epitome of the inherent qualities of the Dome. She was a Leader, a Communicator and a Dictator! She was incomparable...
Governor Tisya rose to leave and suddenly she halted. She turned her back on the audience and stared at the backdrop screen.
‘Who did this?’ Her voice was as cold as the Snow Hour.
Commander Hertz instantly moved forward and she exchanged a few words with him. He nodded, glanced at the screen and then took the audiocrone. His entire demeanour was unrelenting.
‘Who wrote the message on this screen?’
A figure hastened forward. ‘I did, Sir.’
‘Preceptor Sven, what is the meaning of this, rather insolent act?’
‘What act, Sir?’ Preceptor Sven appeared a little nonplussed. ‘I have no idea what you are talking about.’
‘Kindly enlarge the word—Governor Tisya!’ Commander Hertz ordered.
In that instance, Zinnia’s heart began thudding a wild tattoo. The Governor had noticed the half-moon she had drawn on her name!
Preceptor Sven magnified the word with the remote in his hand. Immediately the entire hall could see the tiny half-moon under the dot of ‘i’. Enlarged, it looked more like a stick drawing than she had imagined.
‘Now do you understand what I mean?’ the Commander enquired with sarcasm.
‘I didn’t do that Sir and I wrote that message myself,’ Preceptor Sven replied calmly. ‘But I can look up the monitoring record to see who did it.’
‘Then do it this instant,’ Governor Tisya commanded.
Zinnia broke away from the group. The other lamebren glanced at her surprised, as she hastened down the aisle. Crispin and Iris frowned while Bosco stared, uncomprehending.
Zinnia’s feet acted of their own volition. She ran down the aisle, her heart pumping with trepidation. All Zinnia knew was that she had to own up. A voice at the back of her mind screamed that this was dangerous, that she would be dismissed to the Isolation Chamber, but her legs had taken on the role of her conscience. And now they refused to listen to reason, fear or anxiety. Several heads turned in astonishment as she approached Preceptor Sven.
‘You don’t need to check your records, Sir. I did it!’ she confessed, breathlessly.
Preceptor Sven wheeled around to see the lamebirl, alarm reflecting on his face. Governor Tisya and Commander Hertz looked taken aback. At the back of the hall, Iris, Crispin and the twins gasped. Zinnia was crazy―what was she saying?
‘You did it?’ Preceptor Sven confirmed.
‘Yes, I did. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt or insult anybody. I just thought the message needed a bit of warmth, so I...I added a half moon under the dot. That’s what I do all the time on my K.Sensor. Draw half-moons to show love.’
A deadly silence followed this confession. The kids in the hall caught their breath. The lamebren at the back of the hall squirmed sensing the doom that would befall Zinnia. Before Preceptor Sven could respond, a sarcastic laughter rung out from the stage. It was Governor Tisya.
‘Love, warmth, half-moons―wasted emotions! Spoken like a true lamebirl,’ Governor Tisya hissed. ‘You played mischief with my name. You deserve a punishment that will act as a deterrent to anyone who dares to take such a liberty ever again.’
Her piercing gaze clashed into Zinnia’s innocent face, befuddling the lamebirl’s brain. The instantaneous protest on the tip of Zinnia’s tongue was quashed and she simply stared back at the Governor.
‘Governor...’ Preceptor Sven began on a hesitant, quick note but the top lady of the Dome raised a hand and silenced him.
She turned to Commander Hertz and they consulted in low tones for a few moments. There was a tight band in Zinnia’s chest. She wanted to break the band and speak out, but her legs were trembling and her tongue felt powerless.
At length, Commander Hertz stepped forward. ‘As a penalty for acting rashly, you are herewith commanded to clean all the Wash Receptacles in this K. Port before you leave today. The mechanical cleaning devices will be turned off, no one will help the lamebirl and no one will speak to her till the task is done.’
‘Oh…!’ A ripple of diverse exclamations ran through the kids. Some sniggered, some whispered, while others just stared at the lamebirl with candid contempt.
Zinnia stood rooted to the spot, shocked beyond words. Clean all the Wash Receptacles? How demeaning, and...and...humiliating. All because she had tried to put some warmth into a message? Perhaps it had been wrong...perhaps it didn’t fit the Altklug code of ethics...but cleaning Wash Receptacles? How completely unjust! Tears of frustration sprang into her eyes and her heart protested in anguish. But her tongue was in knots and her mind in an abyss.
Without further ado, Governor Tisya and the Commander stepped off the stage and walked past Zinnia, completely ignoring her presence and the kids followed in their steps. Preceptor Sven stared at Zinnia fleetingly and shook his head. Zinnia couldn’t understand if it was in sympathy or plain reproof. Someone thrust her out of the hall and down a corridor. Zinnia turned, hoping to see her friends but they were far behind in the hall. She saw a wave of a hand. Was that Crispin? But she was hustled forward, down a narrow white corridor to a sling of white doors. A motorised cleaner was thrust into her hands and she was alone in a long string of Wash Receptacles. Zinnia inhaled deeply, brushed away the tears, shut her mind against thoughts and set to work.
8
The street directional arrow claimed the time as seven, when Zinnia climbed off the Community charabanc. The Rain Hour was over and the roads were wet and shining. The Wash Receptacles had taken a long time to clean and it was only when the automatic machine had passed the ‘spotless’ verdict and a green light had shone above the door that she was allowed to pass through the locked doors. She had walked down the empty corridors, under the dim, florescent blue-green lights which bounced off
the glass walls, and a sense of eerie loneliness descended on her.
The K. Port Humanoid had hailed the Community charabanc and Zinnia had climbed in, without a backward glance at the Knowledge Port. The charabanc was empty and within minutes had dropped her off at the Ret Cubicle. But Zinnia hesitated to go in, stalling, to glare at the small fountain in the shape of the pen, at the glass doors and the lumino sign of the Cubicle. In the pale evening light, the Cubicle appeared like some kind of a lone monument. Dinner time was still ninety minutes away—she wouldn’t be missed. Zinnia had no desire to enter the sterile premises of the Ret Cubicle. She experienced a sudden urge for fresh air, gallons of it, to breathe and wallow in until she could flush the stench of the Wash Receptacles. She wanted to dig her hands into the soft earth and bury her head between the flowers. She wanted to erase every memory of the task she had just performed.
She ran towards the Paramour Path, the love lane she had spotted earlier. She remembered the one at her last home and wondered if this one would be similar. Weren’t all Paramour Paths supposed to serve the sole purpose of creating the feelings of harmony and love? Zinnia felt so lonely that only the ambience of the Paramour Path would allow her some semblance of peace and warmth.
The leaves on the trees were fresh green with the tender gloss of a newborn leaf. The street lamps which lit the road from below, illuminated the path with subtle yellows and oranges setting the mood for the Paramour Path. Scores of flowers provided a riot of colours and their sweet scent attacked her nose with vehemence. The moment Zinnia stepped into the lane, her hair lifted with the moderated breeze and her spirits instantly rose. She closed her eyes momentarily and soaked in the mood. This, for her, was the real world. A world filled with flowers and trees and the beautiful lake surrounded by light woods, a world where even the Altklugs were left unattended, to relax and love, and emerge invigorated to pursue their structured lives. A world where hidden digi-eyes did not follow them, trying to pinch and unearth their deepest secrets, the only place without prying, political eyes. Zinnia loved the Paramour Path.
She strolled down the path, touching the soft petals of the flowers to her face and listening to the sounds of chirping, regulated through the audio stream. Up ahead, she could see the water of the lake glistening in blue and green stripes. She ambled towards it, chose a flat, stone seat and sat gazing out at the lake’s serene water, its gentle ripples calming her. What a beautiful place this was! If only she could sit here forever. She never wanted to return to the Cubicle, where she felt stifled and angry all the time. She missed Peeta from the Ret Cabana, her young friends, and her Mom and Dad and she longed to cry. But after the initial rush of tears at the K. Port, suddenly her tears seemed to have dried up.
Thoughts reeled into a loop in her head. The harsh, humiliating punishment for a crime which wasn’t one...the unfairness of it all....The fact that she was a mere lamebirl to be shoved around in the Altklug world, became stark and real now. No, this wasn’t just an Altklug Ace-world. She was born here too! This was her world too. The Altklugs needed to realise this!
But how? How could she ever make them understand that she belonged here too? She could imagine the twins and Crispin smirking―trying to make an Altklug understand? She must be crazy! And yet there had to be a way
Suddenly a light giggle broke into her trance. A couple emerged from the woods, hand in hand and so engrossed with each other that they did not even notice Zinnia. At the lake they paused and Zinnia broke into a sweat. They began kissing, passionately and with a crazy abandon...Zinnia closed her eyes swiftly, memories of the first kiss she had witnessed in the Ret Cabana Rose Lane resurfaced in her mind. She felt hot and flushed. She felt like an intruder—like she wasn’t supposed to witness this display of physical bonding, like she had to leave this couple to their private world of love and passion.
She rose hastily and stumbled, dislodging a wet rock by the bank. Immediately the couple drew apart. Zinnia froze. O God...it wasn’t...it couldn’t be... Her mind whirled in a tizzy, as she tried to grapple with the shock. Then she whipped around and broke into a run, her heart pumping with shame and guilt.
‘Zinnia wait!’ a voice called out.
Zinnia chose not to listen. She couldn’t listen. Her mind was reeling with questions and disbelief. There was no space for more....But the girl caught up with her and put out a hand.
‘Wait Zinnia, please!’
Zinnia halted in her tracks, panting with an urgency she couldn’t understand. She couldn’t bear to hear the words that would come as a form of explanation. Words which she knew would cause her more unease than relief.
‘I can’t Iris, I can’t...’
‘No Zinnia, please listen to me!’ Iris begged.
Zinnia caught sight of another figure, appearing behind the older lamebirl like a shadow. And she gasped. What in the world was Iris up to?
‘Sven—this is Zinnia—you know her, you met her at Dome Piazzar and this afternoon at the K. Port...’ Iris turned to the Altklug.
A look of surprise crossed Sven’s intelligent face and he nodded.
‘Could you excuse us? I need to talk to Zinnia alone. Do you mind?’
Preceptor Sven glanced from Zinnia to Iris, then nodded. He appeared abashed.
‘We’ll talk later. Goodbye!’
For a moment, Iris watched him depart down the Paramour Path, then she turned to Zinnia. In the fading evening light, her face looked almost ethereal.
‘Come with me,’ she said and caught hold of Zinnia’s hand.
‘You don’t have to Iris,’ Zinnia cut in hastily.
Iris didn’t respond but led her back to the spot by the lake where Zinnia had sat peacefully moments before. She took the seat and patted the space beside her. Zinnia obeyed. For some strange reason, she felt more like a child in front of the older lamebirl, incapable of coping with any conversation. Iris no more seemed like just another lamebirl now. Suddenly she had taken on the image of an adult. In fact, Zinnia realised with a start, Iris was more like a woman now. She stared at the bright red brooch on Iris’s shirt, a blush creeping up her face as she noticed that it had turned crooked. She felt inadequate and incompetent to exchange any thoughts on what she had just witnessed. Iris noticed Zinnia’s gaze on the brooch and a small smile lit her face. She straightened the brooch gently.
‘Preceptor Sven and I are in love with each other,’ she said simply.
Zinnia sucked in a sharp breath. In love? Could this get any worse?
‘We’ve been seeing each other for a year now. We met at the Northside Altklug Knowledge Port and we meet here secretly.’
‘But...but you are only fourteen!’ Zinnia blurted out.
‘Yes, I am fourteen who is going to be killed at fifteen!’ Iris retorted bitterly. ‘I’ve lived almost all my life in that Ret Cubicle. You think I am not aware of my age? I think of it every single day, every single hour. I can’t sleep at night thinking that when I wake up I would’ve lost another precious day of my life and that I’m one more terrifying day closer to my death!’
Zinnia was at a loss for words. The dread, the ache of anticipation of one’s death―each one of the lamebren was to experience it. But Iris was the first in their group. How could Zinnia debate such an impending feeling of closure?
‘Iris, you are still young, like all of us lamebren. You can’t really be in love?’ But even as she uttered the words, Zinnia knew that it wasn’t true. Iris was not like the rest of them.
‘I’ve had my periods for the last whole year! I’m an adult in human terms.’
‘Periods?’ Zinnia appeared confused.
‘I forgot―you wouldn’t know. Ask Camilla. She’s just started. But that’s not the point. The point is that Sven and I love each other.’
‘But he’s an Altklug! You can’t...I mean it’s not allowed...’
‘We are both aware of it. The impossibility of the situation. A lamebirl and an Altklug! It is betrayal on his part and sacrilege on mine,’
Iris concluded in an emotionless tone, staring far out at the lake. She turned to face Zinnia. ‘But how can we control our feelings? We love each other! Love isn’t something that warns us before happening. It simply creeps in on us unawares and strikes on the sly.’
‘But what if someone discovers...’
‘We’ve been very careful. In public, we ignore each other; we barely talk to each other.’
Zinnia remembered Preceptor’s Sven’s continuous stare on the charabanc trip to the Museum and the scene he created inside the Museum. Far from subtle...
‘It’s all too risky Iris.’
‘I know. It really is difficult what with the constant digi-eyes picking up every action of the lamebren and the chips that monitor the Altklugs. The memory chips that they have to replenish all the time....It is risky, all of it, but I can’t help it! We can’t help it. There’s just no other way. We have to meet, we have to talk...I’ll go mad if I don’t see him, he means too much to me!’
Zinnia kept quiet, a splinter of anxiety beginning to prick in her mind. Iris was too far gone to see reason, but Zinnia wasn’t. She could see and understand—all too clearly that the older lamebirl was not only playing with danger but putting herself all out in the path of peril. She was too wrapped up in love to realise that she was teetering between a life-and-death situation. If Iris and Sven were caught....A small act of disobedience had led to the Isolation Chamber, what could a blossoming love between a lamebirl and Altklug lead to? A love which was a brazen contempt of all Altklug rules? Zinnia shuddered as a snowy hand clamped her heart.
Revolt of the Lamebren: Book 1 of the Super-Dome Chronicles Page 8
