Wolf Logic

by Masha du Toit

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I asked around a little. Among the other sniffers here. I thought somebody might know something and I was right. You know old Skinbone? Werewolf. Thin? Got ginger hair?”

  Gia shook her head.

  “Well, it seems he knows you. Was at your house not long ago. On sniffer duty.”

  “Oh.” Gia remembered that only too well—the Special Branch search that had been the first clear sign that Nico was in danger.

  “So you do remember him.” Lizzie took a careful breath and let it out again. “He said some very interesting things. Said there was a woman there who was crook, but who wore silver. Which is impossible.” Lizzie raised an enquiring eyebrow, but Gia remained silent.

  “He also said that the person they were looking for, the one the search had been sent out for, hadn’t been there. Apparently the snorre were really pissed off about that. Skinbone seemed to think it was a peeper. A child.”

  Again, the expectant silence. When Gia did not respond, Lizzie continued, “And here you are. A baby silvergirl. Purist cadet, from a house that had at least two crooks, if Skinbone got his facts right. That seems unusual to me. Seems to me there’s a story worth hearing, behind that. And maybe a story still going on.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  There was a soft clink as Lizzie put the mug on the concrete ledge next to her. “You keep saying that. Look, I get it.” She cleared her throat. “You don’t trust me, but I’m not one of them am I? I would leave it alone, but I get the feeling you’re in trouble.”

  To her horror, Gia felt a sob building up inside her and she fought it down. It was so tempting. She’d been alone for so long. Speaking to Mandy had been some relief, but she couldn’t tell even Mandy everything that worried her. She’d left her friends behind, she’d not even had a chance to see Sonella, or Ben, or Fatima during her small break from Valkenberg. She knew Lizzie could not possibly help her, but the temptation to speak about her fears to a sympathetic listener was strong. But could she risk it?

  Maybe this was all some elaborate setup. Maybe Pienaar had brought her here, primed Lizzie to ask her these questions—or was this just the fear talking? She looked around at the concrete walls, the corrugated ceiling above.

  “Oh, don’t worry, no bugs in here,” said Lizzie. “We’re rather good at knowing about that kind of thing. I can sniff out a mic, whether or not it’s magical.” She stared at Gia. “So. What’s the deal? That woman with the silver that Skinbone saw. She your mother?”

  Gia sat perfectly still, caught between the need and the fear—balanced on the edge. In her memory she saw again the last time she’d seen her mother, the swan’s wings spreading as she launched herself off the balcony rail. What had that felt like? To fly again, after so many years.

  “Yes,” she said softly. “That was my mother.”

  “She crook?”

  “Yes. She was—I mean, she is a swan-woman.”

  Lizzie sat up, clearly surprised. “Really. I’ve heard of them. I thought they were mostly in Europe and China and that.”

  “My father met her in Italy.”

  “She still around?”

  Gia closed her eyes, seeing again that storm of white feathers. “No. She, uh. My brother found her swanskin. Her feather skin, you know? She turned back. Into a swan. Flew away.” It sounded so absurd. The words conveyed nothing of the horror of it.

  “I’m sorry. That sounds rough.”

  They sat for a moment in shared silence.

  “And the other one,” said Lizzie gently. “The one they were looking for, that was your brother?”

  “That’s right.”

  “But you’re not swan at all. I can smell that you aren’t. She really your mother?”

  “She was. She is. But I’m adopted.”

  “Oh.”

  And so, Gia told the story. It was strange, explaining it all to an outsider, somebody who knew none of it. It seemed so unreal, such a tangle of mistakes and misunderstandings, but even though she’d decided to trust Lizzie, she did not tell her everything. She explained the bargain she’d made to keep Nico safe, but not whom the bargain was with. How Nico had disappeared and what she’d done to try and find him. Accessing the computer files, but not who’d given her the passwords. Finding out about the children in the Children’s Unit. Listening to Captain Witbooi apply the twist. Finding out that Mandla was trying to trap Billy and Spyker, making them seem like terrorists in order to make Special Branch look good.

  Lizzie listened in silence, only giving an encouraging grunt every now and then.

  “And now,” finished Gia, “it looks like they’ve figured out that somebody’s been doing things to the computers. It’s only a matter of time before they figure out it’s me. I could just leave, I guess, get out somehow, but what about those children? I can’t think of any way to get them out of there. And even if I could get them out, where would we go?”

  “Oof,” said Lizzie. “That’s quite a story.” She sat quietly for a bit, staring off into the dark. “You got in over your head, girl. Made a bargain with—well. I can guess whom it is you’re dealing with, out there. You put a leash on a wolf, you better be willing to smell its breath.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Gia.

  “No. Bet you don’t. You need to apply some of what my father used to call ‘wolf logic’.”

  “Your father?”

  “Yes. Not my real father. Never knew him. The one who took me in. Pack leader, you know.”

  “Did he— I mean, was he the one who—”

  “Turned me?” Lizzie smiled. “No. Not him. I was turned already by that time. Not many would have taken me, of the pure-blood wolves, but he didn’t believe in this whole born or made thing.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Born wolves or made wolves. The born ones are pure blood. Wild at heart. Ones like me that used to be straights, we’re the scum. Made. Almost as bad as the brakke, the neuters that Special Branch used to make. But my father, he didn’t believe in that stuff.”

  “So you used to be—to be like me?”

  “I doubt that.” Lizzie sighed. “I was about your age at the time. Fighting with my mother about stupid stuff. Clothes and boys. School. Dumb stuff. Decided to go have myself some fun. What’s the expression? ‘Better hang as a sheep than a lamb’, something like that? I thought, since she was always going on about boys, I’d go find myself one. Find out what it’s all about. Got all dressed up and everything. Went out by myself to the Maynardville Carnival.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you’ve heard about the carnival. You’ve never been though, have you?”

  Gia shook her head. Everyone at school knew about the carnival, were always gossiping about it—once a year, a late-night festival where teenagers went to be drunk and grope one another behind the caravans. But she’d never gone there herself.

  “Well,” said Lizzie. “I met a boy, alright.” She sighed. “Or he looked like a boy. Werewolf. He gave me the kiss of life. Learnt afterwards I was lucky that’s all he did. He messed me up pretty bad, but at least he didn’t eat me.” Lizzie took a breath, which ended in a shallow cough. “Anyway, I lost some time after that. Ran around. Would have come to a bad end, if my father hadn’t found me. Took me in, taught me how to be a wolf, you know. Taught me about wolf logic. That’s what I was talking about, before I got sidetracked by all this life story stuff. Wolf logic. You ever heard of that?”

  “No.”

  “It’s what my father used to say. Humans think they own it all. Not just the good stuff. All of it. Bad stuff too. All the things that happen in the world, humans think it’s up to them to solve. Fix everybody that’s broken. They take all of it on. Sort of like what you’re doing, with those kiddies locked up there in the unit. They’re not family, are they?”

  “No,” said Gia. “But somebody has to help them. How can I know about them and not try to help?”


  “But that’s the thing, see,” said Lizzie. “You’re just fooling yourself. Why are they important, just because you know about them? What about all the others that you don’t know about yet? You going to save them too? No. That’s just arrogance. You got to look out for your family. That’s right. What you’re doing for your brother, that’s right. Blood of your blood. He’s part of your pack. ”

  “Well,” said Gia. “Actually, he’s not my blood, really, since I’m adopted.”

  “But he’s still your family, right? You run together. See, that’s important. Nothing’s more important. But you can’t,” she coughed again, “you can’t have a pack that’s so big that just everybody’s in it. I’m not saying you shouldn’t care about people. Try to help them. But you can’t take it all on yourself, girl. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “I don’t know.” Gia looked down at her hands. “How do you decide who is in your family then? If it’s not just people you happen to be related to.”

  “That’s true,” said Lizzie. “But it is simple, really. You know who is close to you, if you stop letting the worry lead you. Or the guilt. You just know. Or maybe it’s a wolf thing, knowing. Not a thing humans are that good at. I don’t really remember what it’s like to be human.” She started coughing again and this time it didn’t stop. Gia looked on in concern as Lizzie gasped and fought for breath. At last the fit subsided and Lizzie slumped against the wall, her breathing fast and shallow.

  “I don’t think you should talk anymore,” said Gia. “You need to rest.”

  “Rest. Until they come for me again.” The werewolf’s voice was rough now. She looked up at Gia. “Remember—” Another cough. “Remember. Free me. Or kill me, Gia.”

  Lizzie slid down on the ledge until she was lying down again, curled up on her side. Every now and then she gave a shallow cough and Gia held her breath, dreading another fit.

  “I’m right here,” she said at last. “If you need anything.”

  Lizzie responded with a grunt and Gia guessed she’d closed her eyes again—it was difficult to see in the shadows. It felt like a very long time before the key rattled in the light-lock door and Pienaar let her out.

  -oOo-

  As soon as Gia entered the dormitory, she realised something was wrong. Everybody turned to stare at her. The voices were muted but had an undertone of excitement. It was only as she reached her bed that she noticed that Jooste and Govender were standing at her open locker, searching it. Her suitcase was open on the floor next to them. She stood for a moment, unsure what to do. The senior cadets didn’t even turn to look at her.

  “Uh. Excuse me?” As soon as Gia spoke the other girls fell silent, watching. “Is something wrong?”

  Jooste glanced round then turned back to going through Gia’s clothes. “So I see you’ve decided to come back from wherever you were, Grobbelaar. You really like doing your own thing, don’t you.”

  “Are you looking for something?” Gia felt anger stirring.

  “No.” Jooste slid her hand along the back of the locker, tapping at it. “Just making sure your dress uniform is ready for the ceremony tomorrow. Tell me. What’s this?”

  She turned and held out an open hand. On her palm lay one of the dice Gia had used when communicating with Nico, the one with the words. She’d packed it with the idea that it might come in useful if Nico tried to communicate with her again. “It’s mine.” She stepped forward. “It’s from a game. Where did you find it? It must have fallen into my suitcase when I was packing.”

  Jooste rolled the die between her fingers. “Looks like ritual stuff to me.”

  “Do you think so?” Gia smiled and shrugged. “It’s just a die. When you get stuck in the game you roll it and then you have to do what it says. Or if you draw a question card. That kind of thing.” She could feel the silence in the room, the weight of everyone’s attention.

  “Still sounds dodgy to me.” But Jooste had lost interest in the die. She put it back in the locker. “But what’s this?”

  At the sight of the object Jooste drew from her pocket, Gia’s heart bumped and she felt a little sick. It was the vial of pills that the Blind Man had given her. But where— how did they—?

  Was her memory playing tricks? She’d put the printouts back behind the cistern. And she’d slid the pills in with them. Or had she? Fear made it difficult to think clearly. Maybe the pills had slid down, fallen out somehow? She had been in such a rush to hide it all. And if the stuff behind the cistern had been found, why wasn’t Jooste asking her about the printouts as well? Maybe she’d left the pills in her suitcase after all. Or in her locker. If she gave the wrong explanation now, she might not be able to talk herself out of it.

  “I— Don’t know?” she faltered. “What is it? Where did you find it?”

  “It was lying on the floor in one of the toilet cubicles,” said Govender. Jooste shot her friend an angry glance, but all she said was, “That’s right. Govender found it and brought it to me.”

  Gia looked from Jooste to Govender, trying not to show the fear that was boiling up inside her. “I don’t understand. Did you think they were mine?” She stepped closer and peered at the pills. “I don’t think I’ve seen them before. Somebody must have dropped them.”

  “Do you think so?” Jooste’s eyes were very cold. “You seem to be spending a lot of time in those toilets.”

  Gia did not know what to say. It felt as if every word she spoke drew her further into the tangle of lies. Somebody must have noticed me going in there to hide the printouts. But they can’t have searched the cubicle, or they’d have found them. They wouldn’t be testing me like this if they were sure they had something on me.

  Jooste turned the vial over and over. The little pills rattled from end to end. “I wonder,” she said. “What would happen if you took one of these?”

  Gia shrugged. “Why don’t you try?”

  For long moments they stared at one another. Then Jooste put the vial back in her pocket. “I’m going to take these to Doctor Scubbe in the morning. Then we’ll see what’s in them. Maybe get some fingerprints off the tube too, you never know...”

  She turned and left the room, with Govender close on her heels.

  Aware of the speculative looks from the other girls, Gia closed her locker and put her suitcase back under her bed. I should go now. Not even take anything, just go. She pictured herself walking up to the guard at the front gate. It seemed unlikely that he would just let her leave. And trying to leave would make her seem guiltier than ever. Anyway, where would she go? Not back home. That would be the first place they’d look.

  A numb weakness washed over her and she sat heavily on her bed. There was something else too. She couldn’t go yet. Lizzie could say what she liked about wolf logic, but what about the children behind that metal door? They couldn’t just walk out of here, Mienkie and Peet and the rest.

  Gia picked up the die and turned it in her fingers, looking at the words inscribed on its sides.

  Yes. No. Try Again. Go. Stop. Wait.

  It felt as if smothering hands were squeezing her. Time, you’re running out of time. They may already be onto you. You’ve got to get out. It’s not all of it your responsibility. Wolf logic. Look after yourself, wasn’t that what it meant? Even Lizzie had said so.

  But no. That’s not what Lizzie had said, was it? The werewolf’s voice spoke again in her memory.

  “I’m not saying you shouldn’t care about people. Try to help them. But you can’t take it all on yourself, girl. That’s all I’m saying.”

  You can’t take it all on yourself.

  Maybe there was a way after all.

  -oOo-

  Gia forced herself to wait until she was sure the other recruits were no longer watching her. Nobody followed her when she got up and left the room, although she was sure some of them noticed her go. Back in the toilet cubicle she slid her fingers in behind the cistern, holding her breath until she felt the edge of the folded paper. It was a momen
t’s work to slide the pages out and stuff them down the front of her shirt. Then she was out and down the passage again, trying not to walk too quickly.

  There was no light behind Lee’s door. Could she be asleep already? But surely not. It’s far too early. A tentative knock got no response. Gia looked nervously up and down the corridor. Another knock, louder this time, but still no response.

  Lee’s gone. Where else could she be?

  Gia went down the stairs to the entrance hall, then out the front door. It was still before lights out and several of the older cadets were sitting on the front steps. Gia was relieved to see neither Jooste nor Govender among them. Mantjies sat on the lowest step, leaning back and laughing at some joke.

  “Looking for someone?” said one of the boys.

  “Yes.” Gia felt self conscious under the interested stares from all these older cadets. “I’m looking for Lee. Anybody know where she is?”

  “Ask Mantjies.” The boy flicked the ash off his cigarette. “He should know.”

  “What’s that—looking for Lee?” Mantjies seemed unconcerned by the knowing smiles of the boys around him. “She’s in the senior common room, in the Annex. Know where that is?”

  Gia nodded. That was the room she’d been sent to after she’d been tested. Lee had been there then too. “Yes, thanks. Can I get in there?”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem.” Mantjies was getting up. “But I’ll go with you to speak to the guard, just in case.”

  Gia was a little surprised. This seemed unusually helpful even for the friendly Mantjies. As they walked in the dark between the buildings, she found herself highly aware of him, of his ungainly height as he strode along beside her. Being with Mantjies confused her. Who was he, after all? Lizzie’s torturer—that was one answer. But also one of the few people at Valkenberg she felt easy with, despite the things she’d seen him do. He’s a nice guy. He really cares about Lee. But he’s the doctor’s man, isn’t he? Special Branch through and through.

  As soon as they were out of earshot of the group on the steps, Mantjies spoke again. “Lee’s been a bit out of sorts the last few days. And she’s been asking quite a few questions. About you.”