by Naomi Foyle
‘Language, Astra! Language!’ Nimma screamed.
‘Whoah,’ she heard Peat breathe as she stormed out of the room. ‘Did Astra skip dinner tonight?’
* * *
The next day the two IMBOD officers arrived. They were staying for three days, Klor said, sleeping at Wise House and occupying a Code House office from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m., during which time they were scheduled to interview every Or-adult and child over the age of six. Astra was scheduled for the first day. Because she was under eighteen, at least one Shelter parent had to be present. She didn’t want Nimma to come, but Nimma, sticking hairpins in her braid coil in front of the mantelpiece mirror, insisted.
‘I know you think that I don’t care about you, Astra, but I do. We’re both going with you and that’s final.’
So she marched over to Code House with Nimma in her second-best faux-grass hipskirt swishing behind her. Klor met them in the lobby and took them upstairs and into the back corridor, where they waited on a bench outside an urbag office. Through the glass wall of the corridor, water was trickling down the cliff face of the hill behind Code House. She concentrated on one small dripping outcrop of rock, timing soft, inaudible kicks against the bench leg in sync with the fall of the drops.
‘Stop that, Astra,’ Nimma snapped. ‘Anyone would think you were ten.’
Klor patted Astra’s hand. ‘She’s just nervous, aren’t you, darling?’
‘We’re all nervous. But we don’t have to damage the furniture. If you could just make an effort to control your emotions you would be much happier, Astra. Klor—’
‘You don’t—’ Astra started, but the door opened beside her and Ahn stepped out.
‘Thank you again, Ahn,’ a man with a deep voice was saying as he pumped Ahn’s scrawny arm practically off his shoulder. ‘That is extremely helpful. We’ll let you know the results of our investigation.’
‘My pleasure, Dr Wolfson,’ Ahn said, toadying up to him. ‘I’m only too glad to be of help.’
The IMBOD officer stuck his head round the door. It was a handsome head: the man had mahogany skin, a wind-grooved forehead and aquiline nose, framed by thick white hair, a closely clipped white beard and a pair of rectangular spectacles.
‘Ah there she is. With two parents. Excellent. So sorry to keep you all waiting.’ He was addressing the adults, not her. ‘We’ll be with you in a just another moment.’
The door clicked shut behind the officer. Klor stroked her hand again, but Nimma jumped up and took Ahn’s arm. ‘Ahn, how was it? Are you all right?’
Ahn’s shoulders shook and he gave a peculiar cough. Was he laughing? Astra seethed. The coward couldn’t wait for Hokma to go down that well. ‘Not the most pleasant experience of my life, but I’m fine, thank you Nimma.’ Then he shook Klor’s hand and in a second smooth, unreadable Ahn was back. ‘The officers are very understanding. They know Hokma let us all down, and now they just want the best for Astra. Like we all do. How are you, Astra?’
Ahn’s smoky quartz eyes were unusually bright. Why was he pretending to be nice? And why had he and the officers been talking about her?
In a chill instant Astra realised her error. She’d been so afraid for Hokma and so angry with Nimma that she’d forgotten to be afraid for herself. Her heart seizing up, she stared past Ahn’s fleecy thighs to the cliff.
‘She’s impossible right now, Ahn,’ Nimma apologised. ‘They’ll be lucky to get a civil word out of her.’
‘We were all like that at her age, weren’t we?’ Ahn’s voice was swirling in her head like dried leaves. He couldn’t have. He couldn’t have.
‘We were,’ Nimma agreed. ‘But she’s not supposed to be like this.’
‘She has had a shock,’ Klor contributed, mildly. ‘I expect her system’s on overload, isn’t that right, Astra?’
If Ahn had told on her, she’d kill him. She back-kicked the bench leg so hard her heel hurt.
‘I said stop that, Astra,’ Nimma flared.
‘Perhaps the officers can give you something to help calm her down,’ Ahn suggested.
She wasn’t going to let him think he had won. ‘They can give us Hokma back,’ Astra retorted.
‘We all love Hokma, Astra,’ Ahn said, another flicker of threat now driving his dry-as-dirt voice, ‘but we have to be prepared for the possibility that she might not be the person we thought she was.’
Who was she to you? she wanted to yell. Just a pit stop? A convenient play pal you frig for twenty years then drop when she gets old and turn your back on as soon as she actually needs you? But his eyes still held that triumphant glint. If he’d told, she would have to deny it. She couldn’t lose her temper. She had to be incredibly careful now. She held her tongue as Nimma clutched Ahn’s arm.
‘All those years together – I mean, I know things had changed recently, but still … What you must be going through, Ahn – if there’s anything we can do, you must just ask.’
He patted her hand. ‘Thank you, Nimma. It’s been a shock, of course, Klor, to everyone, but what’s important is that we co-operate fully with the investigation and not blame ourselves for its results.’ Aiming one more gloating look at Astra, he bowed slightly to them all and loped back down the corridor towards his office, his limbs long and loose, his springy hair, Astra noticed for the first time, haloing a bald patch on the back of his head.
‘He’s so brave,’ Nimma sniffled. ‘Astra, he’s right. I know it’s hard, but we have to be prepared for any eventuality.’
Astra barely registered Nimma’s obsequious drivel, or Klor’s warm hand on her back. Her pulse was racing and she had to calm herself down. She relaxed her shoulders and breathed slowly into her abdomen, as she’d learned to do over the years. If Ahn had told, she would deny it. Dr Blesserson had given her the shot. But what if IMBOD tested her? Then Blesserson would be in trouble – Ahn wouldn’t risk that, would he? No, he couldn’t have told. But – an image of Ahn at the banquet table flashed into her mind – what if Samrod and he had concocted a plan together?
There were too many sickening possibilities to prepare for and no time to do it in. She had never rehearsed for this. Hokma had always said not to worry, just tell the truth and she would take the blame. But she hadn’t ever said that she might end up in a traitor’s well.
The door opened and the IMBOD officer reappeared, Tablette in his hand.
‘Astra Ordott, Nimma Shipdott and Klor Grunerdeson, please come in.’
* * *
The officers sat behind a desk beneath a massive wallscreen displaying the IMBOD Shield. Astra and Nimma and Klor sat in three chairs facing them. The window-wall was to her right, but the urbaggers out unrolling the lower chamber roof cover were a world away.
‘Good to meet you, Astra,’ said the bearded officer, who was hairy all over, with a broad furry chest and barrel belly. ‘I’m Dr Wolfson, and this is my colleague Dr Petaldott. We’re IMBOD Chief Inspectors and we’re here to ask you a few questions about Hokma, to help us understand her behaviour. We’re also concerned that you may have suffered from her actions, and if that’s the case, we’re here to put that right.’
Dr Petaldott was a middle-aged black woman with a neat pixie cut, silver hoop earrings and impressively veined biceps. ‘What Dr Wolfson is saying, Astra,’ she said smoothly, ‘is that you’re not in any trouble. You just have to answer fully and honestly, and we’ll take care of everything.’
Astra stared at the floor. There was a knot in one of the floorboards that looked as if you could poke it out with your finger. The knot had once been a branch. Tree branches grew incrementally from the tips of their twigs, the buds elongating and widening in diameter. Some buds, though, remained buried in the bark until the right weather came and helped them sprout blossoms and leaves. Hokma had once asked her to think of her emotions like that: dormant, waiting for their season. The knot in the floorboard, she realised with a slight fizzing sensation in her forehead, was a Gaia vision: it was reminding her to keep her feelings hi
dden.
‘Thank you, Dr Petaldott. I’ll do my best,’ she said. Her voice was shaky, but expressing vulnerability when away from the group was normal for Sec Gens. Perhaps if she just stayed calm, at most expressed a little sadness and anxiety, she would get through this okay.
‘Good,’ Dr Wolfson smiled at her. ‘First of all, Astra, we’d like to ask you about Helium. As far as you knew, for how long had he been making flights to Atourne?’
Was it a trick question? Everyone knew Helium was Coded to fly between Or and Atourne. Didn’t they? She didn’t know if she should lie or not. She settled on shrugging. Around her, the adults exchanged glances.
‘Okay.’ Dr Petaldott made a note on her Tablette. ‘Does that mean you don’t know or that you don’t want to tell us?’
Astra swallowed. ‘I don’t know.’
Dr Petaldott cocked her head. ‘You don’t know how long Helium had been flying to Atourne; or you don’t know whether you don’t know or you don’t want to tell us?’
Astra shook her head.
‘She was very close to Hokma,’ Klor spoke up for her. ‘I expect she’s afraid she’s going to get her into trouble.’
‘Oh darling, no, that’s not just it,’ Nimma interrupted. ‘She’s been so difficult since the arrest, officers.’ She pouted at the officers. ‘Half the time you can’t get a word out of her, the other half she’s screaming at you. My husband thinks perhaps the stress is interfering with the Serum settings. We – well, I – wondered if she could have a booster shot. It would help her cope better with this dreadful situation, I am sure.’
The problem with Hokma’s request had always been that Astra’s emotions weren’t like oak buds; they were more like the pimples that still occasionally throbbed on her face, sprouting white shiny heads and begging to be squeezed. Right now her heart was pumping so hard she thought it might explode. But she had to keep very still. She focused on the knot in the floorboard.
‘That’s interesting. Thank you, Ms Shipdott,’ Dr Wolfson replied. ‘In fact, we are ourselves concerned about Astra’s emotional well-being. We understand from her school records that the circumstances surrounding her Security shot were irregular, and that Hokma was responsible for making sure she had it in the end. Given the current situation, we are required to investigate further.’
It was happening. She was unbelievably calm. It was like playing cricket, when you had taken your guard at the crease and the bowler had released a spinball and you could see every stitch on it hurtling towards you in crisp, clear slow-motion as you – seeing yourself too, as if from above – watched your body flex into action, every muscle poised to cut the ball away, out of danger, a long, low, rolling cherry disappearing between the legs of the fielders so you could keep making your runs.
‘Dr Blesserson gave me the shot,’ Astra said in a tone of astonished innocence. ‘Samrod Blesserson. Hokma took me to Sippur. You can ask him.’
‘Yes, that’s right.’ Klor, thank Gaia, backed her up. ‘Isn’t it, Nimma? We all picked flowers for Astra to take to Sheba’s fountain – my late Code daughter, Doctors. It was such a poignant departure. I remember it as if it were yesterday.’
‘My condolences on the loss of your Code daughter, Dr Grunerdeson, Ms Shipdott,’ Dr Wolfson said. ‘I have quenched my thirst at her fountain often. However, while it is clear Astra went to Sippur, significant questions still remain about her shot.’
Dr Petaldott addressed Nimma and Klor. ‘We have spoken to Superintendent Blesserson about Astra’s shot, and with your permission he’s agreed to Flock-Talk with us this afternoon. Would that be acceptable to you?’
* * *
Astra’s moment of clarity popped like a soap bubble. She had to think: think what to say next. Did they know Ahn knew? Maybe they had just told him their suspicions and he’d been secretly glad that she and Hokma would be found out without him. Right now, it would be her word against Dr Blesserson’s – somehow he’d clawed his way up to a Superintendentship, so definitely no one would believe her. But whatever he said, she couldn’t say anything that would get Hokma into trouble. Calm. Stay calm. She had gone to the clinic, and Dr Blesserson had given her the shot. That’s all she had to say. He had signed her certificate, emailed the school. He couldn’t argue with that.
‘Yes, of course,’ Klor was saying.
‘Goodness.’ Nimma sat up in alarm. ‘Hokma hasn’t got Dr Blesserson into any trouble, has she?’
‘Not at all,’ Dr Petaldott reassured her. ‘We are extremely grateful to the Superintendent for his assistance. Indeed, he’s also agreed to act as a key witness in the trial. I think you’ll be very interested in what he has to say.’
Dr Blesserson was going to testify against Hokma? Astra wanted to spit on the screen. She swallowed down the bile. It mingled with fear in her stomach. The knot in the floor was no help at all, a shorn weapon floating out of reach. Dr Blesserson and IMBOD were in this together, against her and Hokma. All she had in her defence was a faraway half-truth: Dr Blesserson had given her a shot.
Dr Petaldott and Dr Wolfson readied their Tablettes for a Flock-Talk. Behind them, the Shield disappeared from the wallscreen, three camera indicator lights flashed on the frame and five Flock boxes appeared along the bottom of the screen: the two officers and close-ups of Astra, Nimma and Klor. Then Dr Petaldott placed the call. After two short rings, the face of Dr Samrod Blesserson was looming over the room like a bloated green moon. He’d put on weight since Astra had last seen him. His face was fleshy now, and his new round gold-rimmed glasses were digging into his cheeks, which were beginning to sag over his jaw. The resolution was low, so at least you weren’t confronted with every last blackhead on his nose, but the light in his office was filtered through some kind of hanging vine or a trellis wall and cast a sickly green pall across his skin. Despite the unflattering hue, his features were still sensual – and still oozed arrogance. He had grown heavier from indulgence, it was clear, from tasting whatever – whoever – he liked, whenever he wanted to. His tongue made a deliberate, sly appearance, moistening his lower lip like a blood-red slug rolling out onto a leaf, then back under its rock. His eyes lazily scanned his own Flock boxes then met his camera. Astra thought he looked distinctly entertained.
‘Good afternoon, Superintendent Blesserson,’ Dr Wolfson greeted him. ‘Thank you for agreeing to meet with us at such short notice.’
‘Not at all, Dr Wolfson.’ Dr Blesserson smiled. His teeth were as impossibly shiny as ever; for the first time Astra wondered if they were implants. ‘As I said earlier, naturally Hokma’s case is my urgent priority. Nimma, Klor, Astra,’ he addressed, ‘what a difficult time it is for us all. But please, let’s not make this experience any more official than it needs to be. Do call me Samrod.’
‘Samrod. Indeed,’ Klor said. ‘It is such a hard time – for Astra especially. It’s very kind of you to join us.’
‘Oh my dewy meadow, Samrod, you must be sleepless with worry,’ Nimma gushed. ‘And now you’re being dragged into this side of things. I’m so sorry.’
‘Not at all, Nimma. Not at all. It’s only right we’re all given the chance to tell the officers what we know. I’m just sorry I can’t make it to Or in person.’
All these odious pleasantries. Anyone could tell Samrod Blesserson couldn’t wait for his sister to be convicted of the gravest crime in Is-Land. Astra toed the useless knot in the wood.
‘As we discussed, Dr Blesserson, we won’t keep you long,’ Dr Wolfson purred. ‘For the benefit of Astra and her Shelter parents, we simply need to confirm the circumstances surrounding Astra’s Security Serum shot. According to the records,’ he consulted his Tablette, ‘she was violently ill at school, and rather than take her to the next town in the mobile clinic’s schedule – admittedly, a fair distance – Hokma Blesser brought her to you, in Sippur. You filed a report indicating that you had given her the shot.’
‘That is correct.’ His voice dripped with languor. He clearly wasn’t scared of Ast
ra, or anything she might say.
‘We are entirely confident that you did so. It has been noted from more than one source, however, that Astra’s behaviour over the years has not been entirely consistent with that of a child who received a full dose of the Serum. According to her school reports, her verbal marks occasionally peak over the expected upper limit, while her teachers often comment on her apparent intensity of emotion. Physically, she is slightly smaller and lighter than was to be expected. Her Shelter mother Nimma has today noted her high degree of discontent and unco-operative behaviour. We were wondering if you could suggest any reason why the shot might not have taken effect. Could her illness of the day before have interfered with the uptake, for example?’
‘That is highly unlikely.’ Dr Blesserson paused. Astra tensed. It was coming now: whatever lie he was going to spin. ‘Nimma, Klor,’ he continued, greasing the lie with his fat unctuous tone, ‘forgive me if I have been remiss in not mentioning my concerns before today, but I must confess that I have sometimes wondered about Astra myself. When I visited Or in 82 RE, I found her to be an intelligent but somewhat, shall we say, confrontational child. Naturally the Serum has different uptake levels, and as I had delivered the shot myself I assumed Astra was just naturally resistant to some of its effects. Nevertheless, when Dr Wolfson called me earlier, I was not surprised to hear his report. I have been dwelling on the matter since, and given the recent revelations of my Code sister’s activities, the only conclusion I can draw is that she had some kind of secret plan in mind for Astra. It would be simple enough to give the girl an emetic and then contrive to be with her when I gave her the shot. It transpires, you see, that there is an antidote. If taken within an hour of the shot, it neutralises the effects completely.’
‘An antidote.’ Nimma’s hand flew to Klor’s wrist. ‘Oh, Klor – that would explain everything.’
