Fierce September Page 9

  ‘Where are they?’ Brex asked.

  ‘I hope they’re waiting for me beside the fountain and freezing their butts off,’ I said. ‘Some guards they turned out to be.’

  ‘Well,’ Silvern said, ‘you shouldn’t have gone off by yourself either. What did you expect? Biddo – techno gear. Wake up, Juno.’

  I glared at her. ‘It’s all very well for you to talk! How would you have liked to spend the entire afternoon looking at tech stuff?’

  But she was in one of her maddening moods. ‘I wouldn’t. Any more than they’d like to look at clothes.’

  I jumped up and stormed off, furious because she was right. I shouldn’t have gone off by myself, but it wasn’t fair. Three against one. Besides, I knew perfectly well she would have done exactly what I did.

  Back at our apartment I read my new book to Hera while Mother and my grandparents prepared the evening meal. I chose the story of Rapunzel that Grif had written on leaves for me on Taris.

  Hera studied the illustrations, tracing them with a finger. ‘Pretty,’ she said. When we got to the end, she demanded I read the story again. We finished it just as dinner was ready.

  ‘Beef stew,’ Danyat said as he mopped up gravy with a chunk of bread. ‘Delicious.’

  Mother sighed. ‘It’s different, having to choose what to cook. Buying provisions, instead of growing them.’ She smoothed a hand across the frown lines on her face. ‘How will we earn the money we’ll need once we leave here?’

  Grif took her hand. ‘Don’t fret, my daughter. One day at a time. It’s all you can do right now.’

  After we’d tidied up and tucked Hera into bed, we turned on the television to watch the news. All we had to do was click an icon and there it was, even though the live broadcast had been earlier. ‘Amazing,’ Leebar said.

  The explosion at the wharf was again the first item. The police had laid charges against the people in black, who were being held in custody. The next item was about a rail tunnel north of Wellington that had been blocked by a landslip. The reporter interviewed some of the passengers who’d had to wait for hours till the line was cleared. One woman snarled and said, ‘The bloody government would have got this sorted if they hadn’t used the money to bring back that bloody Taris lot.’

  We flinched but kept watching. The next item was about preparations for a national football tournament the following week.

  ‘Do people still play rugby, I wonder?’ Bazin said. ‘There’s nothing like a good game of rugby. I really missed it when we went to Taris.’

  Just then, somebody knocked on the door. Danyat went to open it and there, looking shame-faced, were my dauntless guardians.

  ‘We’ve come to apologise,’ Marba said. ‘May we come in?’

  Mother smiled at them. ‘Of course you may. Can you all fit on the window seat?’

  Paz said, ‘We won’t stay, thanks. Just wanted to say we should have taken better care of Juno.’ He looked at me and frowned. ‘Sorry, Juno.’

  Damn Silvern! If she’d kept her mouth shut I could have yelled at them, but as it was … ‘My fault,’ I muttered. ‘Should have stayed with you.’ Then I remembered an unassailable grievance. ‘But why, for goodness’ sake, did you tell those shop people you were from Taris?’

  ‘They guessed,’ Marba said. ‘The accent. It’s a dead giveaway apparently.’

  Of course. The man in the bookshop had picked my accent too, but I’d had the sense to run away before he could get the truth out of me. I took a deep breath and managed to smile at Biddo. ‘Did you fix the gizmo?’

  His face lit up like a neon display. ‘Yes – and guess what? They want me to work there after school. They’ll even pay me.’

  I gave up being furious. I’d never seen him so alive, so excited. ‘Hey, that’s great. You can use your first pay to take us all on the monorail.’

  I don’t think he heard. I doubted his mind was even in the building – by the look of him he’d left it behind in the techno store.

  ‘Biddo’s a nice boy,’ Mother said dreamily, once the boys had left. ‘I’ve not seen him so animated.’

  I rolled my eyes. She was doing it again – planning who I would marry. But we weren’t on Taris now, and I didn’t have to marry Biddo or any of the boys of my stratum. That alone was worth a bit of danger.

  I didn’t say so to Mother.

  Have you heard? Jov’s mother was crying. She’s desperate to hold the baby.

  Have you heard? Biddo says the technology will let us all keep in touch when we’re scattered throughout the country.

  Have you heard? Nixie met a guy he’d been friends with before he went to Taris. The friend says even the people who thought we shouldn’t be rescued were shocked by the attack on us.

  www.bobbingontheocean.blogspot.com Bloggin’ On

  www.warningtheworld.blogspot.com

  Warning! Danger Ahead

  09

  WARNING SIREN

  WILLEM CALLED US ALL TO an evening meeting to find out how our first day had gone.

  ‘Overwhelming,’ old Mallin said. ‘Astonishing. So many things have changed.’

  ‘Exhilarating,’ Inva called out.

  ‘Mind-blowing,’ said Prin.

  Marba stood up to speak. ‘It’s fantastic but we – Paz, Biddo and me – started talking to the people in a techno shop. We’d hardly got out more than a couple of words when they said, Weird accent, lads, you wouldn’t be from Taris by any chance?’

  ‘Ah, I should have thought of that,’ Willem said, then shrugged. ‘Oh well, there’s not much we could have done to disguise the way you speak.’ He considered for a moment. ‘In a way, this makes things easier. From now on you might as well just go out when you want to – but be careful, and I suggest you don’t ever go alone.’

  He turned the next part of the meeting over to the adults, who bombarded him with questions.

  What work was available? How could they earn money? They asked about all the things we had taken for granted on Taris – housing, a hundred questions about what the schools were like, medical care and food. Every aspect of our lives had changed, and we were ill-prepared.

  I occupied myself with my own plans. I wanted to join a dance school, and had found a place called a performing arts centre on one of the maps Fergus had given us. I had no idea how to enrol, or whether it would even accept new pupils, but I was determined to find out. The trouble was, if I wasn’t allowed out by myself, I would have to persuade someone to come with me. But who?

  I almost laughed aloud as the answer came to me. Vima. I would ask Vima to come.

  As soon as the meeting ended, I ran along the third-floor corridor to her family’s rooms.

  ‘Please!’ I begged her. ‘We can take Wilfred. We’ll put him in that pram in the lobby. He’d love to find a dance school, I know he would!’

  She didn’t need persuading, and the next day as we strode along streets washed in weak sunshine she told me why. ‘It’s bliss to escape. Mum and Dad mean it for the best, but they just don’t get it.’

  I looked at her, my eyebrows raised.

  The words burst out of her. ‘They say Wilfred has to know his father.’ She banged a fist against the pram handle. ‘And he does. I know he does. I know Jov longs to know him. But I just can’t do it, Juno. I have to keep away. It’s too hard otherwise.’

  So. She loved him still.

  ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘How dumb is that?’

  There was no comfort I could offer. ‘Couldn’t Jov see him when you’re not around? Go out with the rest of your stratum. Get away while Jov visits Wilfred.’

  She began to walk so fast I had to jog to keep up with her. ‘They’re all paired off. All holding hands, gazing into each other’s eyes. I’d feel like a …’ She shook her head. ‘I’d be the odd one out. The one they have to be careful of, the one they have to take care of.’

  Neither of us mentioned Oban who loved her and wanted to marry her.

  We walked on in silence. ‘Then th
ere’s Sina,’ Vima said at last.

  I waited. She’d tell me in her own good time. I well knew how useless it was to try to hurry her.

  ‘I think I make her sick to her stomach.’ Vima sighed. ‘I can understand it. I have to work hard not to hate her too. It’s not her fault. None of this mess is her fault. I have to keep away.’

  We left the busy part of the city behind as we headed south.

  ‘You’re going to leave, aren’t you?’ I asked. ‘Go away just as soon as you can.’

  ‘Yes. I’ve asked Willem. He says the university in Dunedin would be a good place for me. He’s got contacts there. I should hear sometime next week if I can go.’

  ‘I’ll miss you.’ I hated even thinking about losing her. ‘Will you be working or studying?’

  ‘Both, I hope.’

  I looked down at Wilfred, who was pulling faces as he slept. ‘How will you look after him?’

  ‘My family will be there, of course. They’d rather stay with everyone else, but they’ll come with me.’ She tipped back her head. ‘It’s so good to be out.’ Then she grinned at me, and for that moment the old determined, sassy Vima was back.

  ‘Any time you want to escape, just let me know,’ I said. ‘And thanks for coming.’

  The door to the dance school slid open as we approached, but there wasn’t anyone at the front desk. Vima didn’t hesitate. ‘We follow the music.’ She set off down a wide passageway lined with big windows. She looked in and out of empty rooms but there was no sign of life, except for the music. We kept walking.

  At the end of the passageway we stopped. ‘Oh, look!’ I whispered, for there behind the glass was a dance lesson in progress. I don’t know how long I stared at the leotardclad figures. I dimly heard Wilfred cry and was aware that Vima sat leaning against the wall feeding him.

  The class ended. I turned away from the window, taking Wilfred from Vima so that she could get up. I tucked him up in his pram, dropping a kiss on his head. ‘Gorgeous boy.’

  Somebody tapped my shoulder. I spun around. A girl a few years older than me was smiling at me. ‘Her Highness wants to talk to you,’ she said, nodding in the direction of the teacher, before strolling off down the corridor.

  Vima whistled. ‘We’ve probably broken sixty-five different rules by coming in here. Come on, let’s face the fire together.’

  The teacher’s entire body registered astonishment when she saw the pram, but she didn’t comment. She didn’t introduce herself either. She shot questions at me.

  ‘Who are you and why aren’t you at school?’

  ‘I’m Juno.’ I paused. She might as well know the whole truth. ‘Juno of Taris.’ Which should explain why I wasn’t at school. In any case, she made no comment on that either.

  ‘You are interested in dance?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Show me. Take off those boots.’ She raked her eyes over my jeans and jacket. ‘Remove the jacket. And the sweater.’ She waited while I complied. ‘Now, dance.’

  Music swelled, filling the room. I stood with my eyes closed, feeling the rhythm, watching the pictures in my mind. After some minutes I looked at her. ‘Can you start the music from the beginning again please?’

  No comment. She did as I asked.

  I danced. For the first time in my life, I danced the steps in my head. I let the music carry me, let it show me where the dance needed to go. When it finished I felt the loss of it and sank to the floor, hiding my face in my hands.

  ‘Now go to the barre,’ she ordered.

  I scrambled up and did as she told me. I managed the stretches. I kept up with the first of the exercises.

  Tendu front. Grande battement side. Full plié in first.

  When I didn’t understand what she meant, she switched to something else. ‘Show me an arabesque.’ She rapped out a combination of steps, started the music, then watched me dance them.

  I forgot about Wilfred, forgot about Vima, and I danced.

  Finally the woman said, ‘Your musicality will do. Your technique is appalling. How old are you?’

  ‘Fourteen.’

  ‘Find a teacher. A good one. When you have finished your schooling, come back. Maybe we can do something with you, maybe we can’t.’

  She turned away. We were dismissed.

  Dazed, I stumbled from the room. Vima stopped, grabbed my arm and commanded, ‘Breathe. And again. Good girl. Now try walking. It’s quite easy once you get the hang of it. One, two. One, two. That’s the way!’

  She teased me until my mind cleared. I looked around to make sure the woman was nowhere in sight. ‘That teacher! She was scary!’

  Vima grinned. ‘You know what? I’d love to have seen her in an argument with Fisa. The battle of the giants. I wouldn’t be putting any bets on who’d win.’

  Nor me. My genetic mother’s style had been completely different from Her Highness’s, but it was equally as forceful.

  ‘I wonder what her name is?’

  Vima shrugged. ‘I’m guessing it’s lucky you didn’t call her Your Highness.’

  We ambled down the hill. ‘We’d better go back,’ I said. ‘I’m starving, and it’s nearly lunchtime.’

  ‘Fancy seeing what we can get with this?’ Vima asked, pulling something from her pocket. It was her five dollars.

  We turned right into the old area called Newtown.

  ‘Café’, Vima said, pointing at a sign. ‘That should do.’

  We crossed the road and pushed open the door, only to face a flight of narrow stairs. I picked up the end of the pram and between us we negotiated the stairway. At the top, Vima gave a silent whistle.

  ‘This can’t have changed for the last hundred years.’

  I pushed her towards the counter. ‘Look later. Let’s see if we can buy something to eat.’

  We were dithering in front of a cabinet of food when the woman behind the counter asked what we’d like.

  Vima smiled at her. ‘We have a slight problem. We’ve only got five dollars. Do you have anything for that amount?’

  But the woman laughed. ‘You’re the Taris girl!’ She glanced at me. ‘Taris girls. Can I see the baby?’ She bustled out from behind the counter as she spoke. ‘Oh! Isn’t he just ducky!’ She pointed at a table. ‘Go and sit down. I’ll bring you food. And would you like a coffee?’

  ‘Um, we’ve never had it,’ I said. ‘We couldn’t grow it on Taris.’

  She shook her head. ‘Fancy that! No coffee! The world spins on coffee. We’ll try you with a latte.’

  ‘That sounds lovely,’ Vima said, ‘but I’m sure we don’t have enough money for drinks and food.’

  The woman waved the objection away. ‘You can pay me by telling me about Taris. I’ll pop over between customers. Okay?’

  Food and drink in exchange for telling our story? ‘More than okay,’ I said.

  It was the best lunch we’d ever had. We ate thick, fragrant soup from white china bowls, and bread that was salty and crunchy. Neither of us could drink the coffee. The woman – Magda – laughed and gave us hot chocolate instead. And we talked. Other customers clustered around us, fascinated by the life we described, peppering us with questions, wanting to know how Outside seemed to us. ‘Outside!’ they cried. ‘We live Outside and we are Outsiders!’

  None of them asked Vima who Wilfred’s father was. Instead, they simply admired the baby, and Vima herself relaxed and sparkled in a way I hadn’t seen before. But then I’d rarely seen her when we weren’t having to fight against evil or against the danger from the impending collapse of our world.

  But it couldn’t last. Suddenly, a piercing, wailing shriek tore through the room. Vima and I clapped our hands over our ears and gaped at the other customers, who appeared frozen to the spot. What was it? Why? Why had their faces lost colour? Why were they huddling in on themselves? Vima picked up Wilfred, rocking to calm him.

  The sound died away. Magda rubbed her eyes. ‘The pandemic signal. In a minute we’ll know how bad.’

&nb
sp; We said nothing. The whole place was silent except for Wilfred’s crying, and Vima saying, ‘Sh, sh, little one. It’s all right. Everything’s going to be all right.’

  Magda was watchful, her face so sad it made me shiver. Everything was going to change. I could feel it. Nothing would be all right.

  A voice thundered in from outside. ‘Code red pandemic alert. Code red pandemic alert.’

  ‘So it comes again,’ an elderly man said.

  ‘Wait here,’ Magda told Vima and me. ‘I’ll sort out these others first.’

  She went back behind the counter and began giving out packages to her customers. I watched carefully, but nobody used their plastic cards, nobody handed over money. She opened the food cabinet. The people took the cakes and savoury items, slid them into paper bags and hurried away.

  After the last person had gone, she came back to us, more packages in her hands. ‘Pandemic procedure. When you hear that siren, you run straight for the nearest business. We’re all supplied with these packs to hand out.’ She ripped open one of them. ‘Mask and gloves. You have to get home as quickly as you can.’ She pointed down to the street. ‘There’s a monorail stop outside. Just jump on. You won’t have to pay.’

  Vima tucked up Wilfred in the pram. ‘Can we help you tidy up before we go?’ I asked.

  Magda looked as if she might cry. ‘Bless you, child. But no, you have to go now. Take any food that’s left. I have to leave too – that’s why I want the food gone. We’ve found it’s best to clear the streets as soon as we can.’ She shrugged on her coat as she spoke. ‘Come on. Let’s get the wee one down those stairs and I’ll come with you. Didn’t they explain all this to you at the Centre?’

  We shook our heads.

  ‘Stupid. That’ll be old Willem’s fault. As good a man as ever walked the earth, but he’s head-in-the-sand about what he doesn’t want to see.’

  When the train stopped, Magda grabbed Wilfred from the pram, shoved him into Vima’s arms, then collapsed the pram down into a flat parcel. She hustled us onto the train. ‘Carry the baby inside your jacket,’ she ordered Vima once we’d found seats. ‘Keep his nose as covered as you can.’