Pandora Jones: Deception

by Barry Jonsberg

  ‘I see.’ Tears sprang to Pan’s eyes and she closed them to keep them from spilling. She would not cry. She would not give in. But, in her time at The School, she had never felt more like surrendering to her emotions and purging them in any way she could. It took her a few minutes before she could trust that her voice would not break.

  ‘And what about you, Wei-Lin? What do you think?’

  Wei-Lin kept stroking the feathers of the arrow, over and over. She cocked her head to one side, but didn’t raise her eyes.

  ‘I know what I remember, Pan. I know what I saw. It doesn’t make sense to think none of that happened. It’s cruel.’

  ‘Cruel?’

  ‘I saw my mother and my sister die. I told you I didn’t remember much of the days before my rescue and that was partly true. Partly. There are some things I do remember, and maybe I’ve been burying them because the only alternative to that is more pain than I can bear.’ She put the arrow down and selected another, went through the same procedure. ‘My sister was the first to go. She was six years old. I held her in my arms while she coughed and coughed and sprayed blood. So much blood. It was difficult to believe that such a tiny body could contain so much.’ She shuddered, took a breath and struggled for control. ‘Then she stopped breathing and I was glad. Glad. Because it meant she was no longer suffering. Mum tried to get her body out of my arms, but I refused. I just held her until she went cold. Then it was Mum’s turn. She . . .’

  This time Wei-Lin did meet Pan’s eyes. Her own contained so much suffering that Pan almost shied away from her gaze. Suffering and anger. Yes, anger was there as well.

  ‘Now you say my sister is alive. And my mother. Can’t you understand that being offered that hope is cruel? I want to believe you, Pan. Of course I do. I want my family back and I would do anything to believe it’s possible. But it isn’t possible. They’re dead and no amount of wishing will change that. All you’ve done is bring my pain back. It had never gone away, of course, but I was learning to deal with it. We all are. You’re picking at the scabs of our misery and everyone will hate you for it.’

  ‘Do you hate me, Wei-Lin?’

  Wei-Lin returned her gaze to the arrow and started the smoothing routine once more. The silence lengthened.

  ‘No,’ she said finally. ‘I don’t hate you, Pan. But I can’t buy your story. I just can’t. I’m sorry.’

  ‘No,’ said Pan. She wanted to reach out to touch Wei-Lin’s shoulder, but resisted. ‘I’m sorry, Wei-Lin. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. Or anyone.’

  ‘Have you wondered why The School would be doing this, assuming your conspiracy theory is true? What’s in it for them?’

  Pan got to her feet. ‘Of course I’ve thought about that. And I don’t have any answers. Yet. But I am going to find out. Are you going to tell anyone I’m planning to escape?’

  ‘No,’ said Wei-Lin. ‘I think it’s best if you do escape. See for yourself that you’re wrong. Then at least you might be able to put this behind you.’

  Pan started to walk away, but turned after a couple of paces.

  ‘How’s Sanjit?’ she asked.

  ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘You serious, Wei-Lin? I’m concerned about him. His outburst at the session with Dr Macredie, blaming himself for what happened to Nate. Talking about trouble following him around.’ Pan spread her hands. ‘I know you were trying to get him to open up, that time in the canteen, and I just wondered . . . I don’t want to see him hurt and it worries me that he’s so closed off from the rest of us.’

  Wei-Lin got to her feet and slung the quiver over her shoulder.

  ‘Like Cara?’ she said.

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘You know something, Pandora?’ Wei-Lin put her hands on her hips. ‘You talk the talk, but that’s about it. You’re worried about Sanjit, but you’ve never seriously tried to have a conversation with him. Maybe you’re too wrapped up in all of this . . . fantasy, but you don’t have time for any of us, except Jen. It’s not good enough to say you care. You need to show it.’

  Pan bowed her head. Wei-Lin’s words stung, but she was right. I haven’t been a good friend to any of them, she thought. I’ve let them down the same way I let Cara down. She knew her determination to get to the bottom of The School’s secrets left no room for thinking about the feelings of others. I want to uncover the truth to free them, but it isn’t enough. We are all suffering, in the here and now, and they think I am making it worse, not better.

  She felt Wei-Lin’s hand on her shoulder.

  ‘I’m sorry, Pan,’ she said. ‘That was uncalled for. Don’t worry about Sanjit. I’m looking after him. Karl is doing the same when they’re in the dormitory. He doesn’t say much, that kid, but I think he’s strong enough to get through this.’

  ‘Has he told you anything about his past?’

  Wei-Lin laughed. ‘If he had, I wouldn’t tell you, Pan. No offence, but if he ever does confide it would have to stay between us. As it is, I think I’ve convinced him he is not to blame for Nate. As for anything else . . .’ She shrugged. ‘He’s a closed book and I’m not going to force him to open up.’

  Pan nodded. ‘You’re wrong about one thing, though, Wei-Lin,’ she said. ‘Your words weren’t uncalled for. I have been selfish and preoccupied. I will try to do better in the future, but I need to see what’s out there in the world. I don’t think I’m going to be of any use until I’ve achieved that.’

  ‘Then go. Find out once and for all. And don’t worry about the rest of us. We’re survivors, remember? It’s what we’re good at.’ Wei-Lin leaned forward and kissed Pan on the cheek. ‘Be safe, Pan.’

  Pan walked away in the general direction of the dormitory, the kiss burning on her skin. She would get out of The School. She would find proof. She would alert the authorities about the existence of this bleak prison. Pan fed herself images of government troops coming in over the wall, arresting the staff and liberating the students, returning them to their families. She imagined newspaper headlines and television reports all over the world. There would be trials. There would be justice. There would be answers. And she would be vindicated.

  For all that, at the back of her mind was another thought. What would she do if all she found in the outside world was death and the rotting remains of billions of corpses?

  What then?

  Chapter 14

  ‘So they think you’re a loon and I’m a rebel without a cause. So what?’

  Jen and Pan sat outside their dorm and watched the stars, hard and cold against the sky. The last hour had been predictable – hardly anyone outside their group spoke to them or even acknowledged their presence. Jen seemed to find it amusing, but each rebuff was a small dagger in Pan’s heart.

  ‘Are you sure the only way out of here is by flying, Jen?’

  ‘I can’t think of an alternative. Have you come up with any ideas?’

  ‘No,’ Pan admitted. ‘But your scheme is crazy.’

  Jen laughed. ‘I know. But we’re both crazy anyway. Isn’t that what The School wants everyone to believe? Hey, come on. Let’s walk and talk.’

  ‘Where do you want to go?’

  ‘The Infirmary.’

  ‘Oh, jeez, Jen. That is a bad idea.’

  Jen laughed again. Pan had never known her friend to be in such a good mood. Until they got back from the island she didn’t think she had ever heard Jen laugh. Now she seemed to do little else. Perhaps the story The School was putting out wasn’t that far from the truth. Jen was enjoying herself because she had something to fight against. Maybe she was only truly happy when it was her against the rest of the world. Then again, maybe they had a point about Pan, also. Maybe she was crazy.

  Jen got to her feet and brushed off the seat of her pants.

  ‘Don’t be a pussy, Pandora. Anyway, I’m not suggesting we try to get inside. It’s just that I have a theory and want to check it out. Walk with me.’

  ‘It’s asking for trouble, Jen.’

/>   ‘Oh, so what? I’ll walk anywhere I damn well please. They don’t like it, well, screw ’em.’ And with that, she took off. Pan sighed and followed.

  ‘Talk me through the flying plan again,’ she said when she drew level. ‘Tell me why this is a workable idea – especially for someone terrified of heights.’

  ‘It’s simple enough. I’m good at metalwork. I made the lock picks. And they worked. So all I do is make a frame for hang-gliders. Then we source material to cover the frames and . . . that’s it. We fly; we glide like birds over the wall and out of here.’

  ‘You don’t think there are some problems with this plan?’

  ‘Your fear of heights. Well, sorry, but if you’re serious then you’ll just have to deal with it. Toughen up, Pandora. Or settle for staying here and going properly crazy. Your choice.’

  ‘What about keeping these hang-gliders secret? Especially when The School is watching our every move?’

  ‘Leave that to me.’

  ‘Okay, but how do we get lift? Won’t we need a place to launch?’

  ‘Sure. That would be the Infirmary. We get up onto the Garden, take a run-up, and glide off the edge. Done deal.’

  ‘You’re kidding, right? Or you have an actual death wish? Have you ever even been hang-gliding?’

  ‘Yep. It’s easy. If I can do it, you can do it. You’re a quick learner, aren’t you, Pandora?’

  ‘But I won’t have the chance to practise.’

  Jen laughed once more. ‘Then you’d better get it right first time. Kind of a good incentive, that.’

  Pan plodded along in silence for a minute or so. The soles of her feet still hurt, but at least she wasn’t limping now. The emphasis upon physical fitness in The School meant that everything about her had toughened up, including her feet.

  ‘Just how far can hang-gliders go before we hit the ground?’

  ‘If we went during the day, we’d rely on thermals for lift. Different at night. But there’s nearly always a breeze coming from the sea. I’ve checked it out. That should give us enough lift to get over the wall, where we ditch into the sea, swim back to the village and steal a boat.’

  ‘Easy, huh?’

  ‘Not too hard.’

  ‘But what if we fall straight down off the Garden on Top of the World, or we hit the wall, or we drown out to sea? What if we can’t steal a boat?’

  Jen stopped and turned towards Pan. She put her hands on her hips.

  ‘What if, what if . . . give it a rest, Pandora, will ya? Yeah, things can go wrong. If you’re not prepared to take a risk, then stay here and go to classes. Those lectures on animal husbandry are really heating up. Maybe you wouldn’t want to miss that adrenaline rush.’

  Pan walked on, ignoring Jen’s sarcasm.

  ‘When would we go?’

  Jen followed behind. ‘Coupla weeks, I reckon. That should give me time to make the hang-gliders. I wouldn’t want to leave it longer than that. The night breeze might disappear; if the weather changes we could miss our chance.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Pan. ‘Let’s do it. This is a slow death anyway. Might as well make it quick.’

  ‘Attagirl,’ said Jen. ‘Hey, look.’

  Pan followed Jen’s gaze. They were near the steps to the Infirmary, still shielded by the cliff. In front of the steps a flame flickered. The girls watched for ten minutes or so, but the light didn’t move, though it danced gently in the warm breeze.

  ‘It figures,’ said Jen. ‘They’ve posted a guard.’

  ‘So there’s no chance of finding where that elevator goes to then.’

  ‘You think one guard would stop me? C’mon, Pandora. Give me some credit. Anyway, one thing at a time. Focus on escape and let that poor bastard stay up there all night waiting for someone who never arrives. I like that idea.’

  They turned back towards the dormitory. Lights out was in ten minutes. Pan could not stop yawning. It was only when they came close to the shower block that a thought occurred to her.

  ‘If the steps to the Infirmary are guarded, Jen, how are we going to get our hang-gliders up there?’

  Jen put an arm around Pan’s neck.

  ‘That’s easy,’ she said. ‘We’ve gotta climb the cliff face.’

  Pan’s group was on the early shift for breakfast, but any hope that the food might be better at the first sitting were quickly dashed.

  ‘Porridge again,’ said Jen, plonking her bowl on the table and sliding onto a bench. ‘My favourite. Just need a bit of sugar and some cream.’ She stirred the grey goo in her bowl and lifted a spoonful to her mouth. She swallowed with difficulty, twisted her lips and then gazed around the rest of the group.

  ‘Are we sure this isn’t the stuff they use to render buildings? Are we eating industrial-grade wall-filler?’

  ‘Wish we were,’ said Karl. ‘It’d taste better than this.’ He sighed. ‘First thing I’m doing when we get out of here is finding a pizza oven and stuff to put in it. Who’s up for a meatlovers with extra mozzarella?’

  Everyone groaned.

  ‘Or a barbecue,’ Karl continued. ‘Chops, sausages, fried onions . . .’

  ‘Can you shut him up, Sam?’ said Wei-Lin.

  Sam planted a kiss on Karl’s lips. ‘That normally works,’ she said.

  ‘Can you guys get a room?’ said Jen.

  ‘We’ve got better than a room,’ said Karl. He winked at Pan. She smiled.

  ‘Okay,’ said Jen. ‘Enough. My stomach is already queasy. Wei-Lin. Do you know a girl called Abbott? What was the first name again, Pandora?’

  ‘Janice,’ said Pan. ‘No. Janine. That was it.’

  ‘Yeah. Janine Abbott.’

  Wei-Lin looked up and her brow furrowed in concentration.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t believe so. But there are hundreds of students here I’m not familiar with. Ask around. Someone is bound to know her.’

  ‘I think she might be in my weaving class,’ said Sam.

  ‘Weaving class?’ asked Jen, and Sam flushed at the tone of voice.

  ‘Weaving is a very important skill,’ she said. ‘How do you think your clothes are going to be made, Jen?’

  Jen laughed. ‘There are a hundred million stores out there and zero customers,’ she said. ‘I suspect I’m not going to have to knit myself a jacket to survive.’

  ‘Yes, but we have to think about future generations. My tutor said that it will be our responsibility to pass skills on to our children . . .’ She glanced at Karl and then lowered her eyes. ‘So they can pass it on in their turn. It’s all about handing on a legacy.’

  Jen scraped the last remains of the porridge from her bowl.

  ‘Hey, Sam,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t worry. In a coupla hundred years’ time we’ll have developed a few third world countries of our own. Then we can have brown-skinned children working sixteen hours a day for two dollars, while the rest of us live in big houses and worry about whether our wardrobe is this year’s fashion.’

  Sam’s brow creased.

  ‘We will not make the mistakes of the past,’ she said. ‘Our new world will be based on fairness and equality.’

  ‘Sure,’ said Jen. ‘And I’m still waiting for the Tooth Fairy. Come on, Sam. You know better. It’s human nature. We’re all shits deep down; it’s just that some of us haven’t buried it as deeply as others. History will repeat itself. It always does.’

  ‘I refuse to believe that,’ said Sam.

  ‘Me too,’ chipped in Karl.

  ‘Whoop-de-do,’ said Jen. ‘Anyway, this is all fun, but could you point out this Abbott chick to us? Is she in the canteen now?’

  Sam gazed around the hall. ‘I can’t see her,’ she said. ‘Turn up after personal development at Hut 21 and I’ll introduce her to you.’

  ‘I can’t wait,’ said Jen. ‘Maybe you can weave me a coat during your session.’

  Sam didn’t say anything. She turned towards Karl and they whispered to each other. Jen looked at Pan, raised her eyebrows and smiled.
Pan couldn’t help but smile back.

  ‘So what can we say to this Janine Abbott?’ asked Pan.

  Jen picked up a rock and carried it to the side of the running track. It was a rock that would have had Pan sweating and puffing, but presented no problems to Jen. She dumped it unceremoniously at the side of a path and then returned for another. She wiped sweat from her brow.

  ‘Who knows, Pandora? But just finding her would be proof of something, wouldn’t it? That The School is keeping records on us – from before we were rescued. That there’s a degree of organisation that is suspicious.’ She bent to another rock. ‘I mean, come on. The story we’ve been given is that they’ve rescued people as and when they’ve found them. A living person among bodies in the street. A signal on a thermal imaging camera. So how do they have dossiers on us? And photos? It stinks.’

  ‘Yeah, but what can we say to her?’

  ‘We could start with, “Were you carrying a picture of yourself in a summer dress eating an ice cream when the virus struck?” Hell, I don’t know. We have a lead. Let’s follow it, okay, and see what happens.’

  Pan gazed around, then chose a rock that didn’t seem likely to pull a muscle. Keeping her knees bent properly, she picked it up and carried it to the side of the running track. Jen went for something the size of a suitcase.

  ‘It’s a plan,’ said Pan. ‘And we’ve got nothing to lose.’ She dropped the rock and wiped her hands on her pants. ‘Unless, that is,’ she continued, ‘the School Representative Council have already paid her a visit, in which case she might run a mile as soon as she spots us.’

  Jen grinned.

  ‘Don’t worry, Pandora,’ she said. ‘No one can outrun me.’

  Pan tried to pay attention in the class on the history of political philosophy. Professor Goldberg was animated on the subject of Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, but the class didn’t appear to share his enthusiasm and the stuffy air buzzed with the muted sounds of restlessness. Pan understood the importance of what the Prof was saying: if she actually believed a new world order would have to be established, then it would be important to know how humanity had ordered it in the past.