Retra’s discomfort deepened. She wanted to be free of this conversation and the sparring between Kero and Krista-belle. ‘Can you help me find Joel?’
Kero shrugged; his favourite gesture.
Retra counted several breaths then got up to leave.
‘Wait,’ he said. ‘Look, no promises but … can you keep something to yourselves?’
Retra waited.
‘There’s a meeting of the gangs right after the next Early-Eve. It’s real important that the Ripers don’t find out about it.’
‘When’s Early-Eve? I’ve heard of it but no one has explained.’
Kero made an impatient noise and tugged on this hair. He looked at Krista-belle for help.
‘Because we don’t have night and day, we call things differently here. Twice in every twenty-six hours, the darkness lifts a little. Not sunlight, of course, but something more … dusky. The lightest of the two is called Early-Eve, the other one is called Night-Eve,’ Krista-belle explained.
‘Oh. And the meeting?’
Kero leaned forward. ‘The meeting’s about them. Krissie’s not the first one Brand’s touched. We’ve gotta work out what to do about it,’ he said, in a lowered voice. ‘Thanks to you, at least Lenoir knows about Brand now. Not that we think he’ll do anything about it.’
Hearing Lenoir’s name gave Retra a shiver. ‘What about the Youth Circle? Lenoir said that you should tell them. So did Charlonge.’
‘Wasters,’ said Kero.
‘Too busy taking black beads and sucking up to Varonessa and Lenoir,’ concurred Krista-belle.
‘Why should I come to the meeting? Do you think Joel will be there?’
‘You said he was outspoken. If he is, then he’s probably joined one of the gangs, and they’ll all be at the meeting. If you come along, you might recognise him.’
Retra nodded slowly. Kero’s logic made sense to her. ‘After next Early-Eve?’
‘Yeah,’ said Kero. ‘In the Grotto.’ He beckoned her to lean down closer.
Retra bent stiffly, until her ear was near his mouth.
‘Password to get past the gate is “the-age-of-rage”,’ he said.
She nodded and straightened. ‘Thank you.’
‘Kero will help you find him. Kero knows everyone,’ said Krista-belle. She leaned across and pulled her boyfriend into her arms, wiggling her tongue out near his lips.
He opened his mouth and latched onto it, making loud sucking noises.
‘Gross,’ announced Suki.
Retra looked at her.
Suki inclined her head. ‘Let’s get some food.’
‘You gonna go to this meeting?’ asked Suki through a mouthful of streaky bacon and red chilli beans.
The pair had taken seats at the table furthest from the refectory curtain. While they’d piled food on their plates at the servery, the White Wings had drifted out, following Kero and Krista-belle, leaving only a handful of newbies at the tables. Though they were still getting curious glances from them, at least Charlonge had stopped hovering.
Retra nodded. She’d chosen a bowl of sweetened meal and some wisp bread. The bread melted on her tongue like buttery air. She glanced over at the servery looking for the uther. By concentrating hard, she could see it scraping egg-mash from one silvery dish to another. Did they do the cooking, she wondered? She imagined the dough in their thin, grey, prehensile fingers and felt a little squeamish.
‘So who’s Joel?’ Suki was still asking questions.
Retra hesitated.
‘Come on, I told you about Liam and our blood pact,’ said Suki.
Retra glanced around. There was no one close enough to hear their conversation. It went against all her Seal instincts to tell Suki more about Joel, but Kristabelle and Kero knew of him now. Suki had been nothing but kind to her and Retra liked the way she spoke her mind. Envied it, in fact.
‘He’s my brother,’ she whispered.
‘Oh?’ Suki chewed for a bit. ‘Well, I guess that’s happened before. Sisters following brothers here, and the other way around. My sister is a shicka. I wouldn’t follow her to the end of the road.’
Retra raised her eyebrows.
‘A stay-at-home type. Likes to cook and grow high-country lavender,’ Suki finished.
Retra wanted to explain to Suki that she hadn’t followed Joel here to be part of Ixion, but to convince him to go somewhere else. But even Suki’s forthrightness and honesty couldn’t convince her to share that. ‘Other sisters following their brothers?. I suppose so.’
Suki slapped her head in mock exasperation. ‘You gotta start talking less stiff. You sound so old. Like my Granna. It’s “I guess so”, not “I sup-pose so”.’
Retra smiled. ‘I suppose it is.’
They both laughed.
For Suki the sound came out easy and naturally. For Retra it was like opening the door of a cage that had been closed for too long; an uncertain, rusty sound.
Suki whacked her on the back as if she was choking.
And then they laughed more.
Until Charlonge appeared at their table.
The tension still played through the supervisor’s body. Retra could see it in her stiff shoulders and neck. ‘What were the White Wings saying to you?’
Retra stared at her bowl but Suki spoke up.
‘They just wanted to thank Retra for helping Kristabelle out. And they asked us to join the Wings.’
Retra wished Suki would be quiet and stop telling Charlonge everything. But it wasn’t in the Stra’ha girl’s nature to be silent.
Charlonge drew a chair back and sat down with them. She folded her hands inside the long sleeves of her dress. ‘That wouldn’t be wise.’
Her counsel made Retra curious even though she had no plans to join the Wings. ‘Why not? It seems like a place to belong. As good as another,’ she said softly. It was the truth. There was something alluring in the way they banded together.
‘Ixion is a place of freedom and expression. The White Wings and the others impose their own rules. Why would you want that? Especially coming from a province like Grave. Besides, the Ripers only tolerate the gangs, but they don’t approve of them. You will attract more attention to yourself by joining one. It seems you have done enough to be monitored already.’
Retra thought of the warden at home in Grave. ‘What happens when you’re monitored?’
‘The Ripers watch you. Everywhere you go. Everywhere.’
As if hearing Charlonge, Forlorn entered the refectory, his sweeping gaze pausing to linger on them.
Charlonge got to her feet again. ‘Brand won’t forget what you did,’ she whispered. ‘Be careful.’ She moved to another table and sat down with the girls Retra had seen in the dressing room earlier.
‘She’s right about one thing,’ said Suki. ‘Brand is scary – all those scars and things. It might be safer being part of the Wings.’
Retra didn’t answer.
‘Oh, well,’ said Suki, stuffing the last of the bacon in her mouth, ‘it’s still a few hours until Early-Eve. While we’re waiting, let’s go out. I heard that the guy you fancy is playing at Club Abraxas. Markes, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t fancy him,’ said Retra quickly.
Suki scraped the last of her bacon through her sauce. ‘Yeah, right.’
The Abraxas line ran downhill from Vank; a weaving, rocking trip that gave Retra time to stare out of the window at the mountainside’s brilliant nightscape while Suki’s prattle became faster and more excited.
They’d gone to confession before leaving Vank but Test had been dispensing and hadn’t forced Retra to ingest the pod. Afterwards she’d dropped hers over the edge of the platform as they got on the kar.
‘You have to take it,’ Suki warned, as she swallowed a whole red bead. ‘They’ll know.’
‘I don’t like them. They made me see things – visions.’
‘What-kinda-visions?’
‘Demons.’
Suki pulled a face. Then she gi
ggled. ‘It-made-you-dance-all-sexy,’ she said.
Retra noticed that most of the people in the kar were speaking in the same kind of high-pitched, jerky voices as Suki. Had she sounded the same?
When the kar stopped, they piled out, pushing and shoving and mock-arguing. Retra searched the faces on the platform, looking for her brother, but she saw no one that could be him.
She and Suki followed the crowd as they walked the lamp-lit path to Club Abraxas.
Unlike the Drop, which they’d accessed from a bridge, the Club Abraxas entry was deep in the hillside.
As they walked along, the warm air played over Retra like a wet tongue, making her skin pimple.
‘Want you,’ a voice whispered from the dark. ‘Soon.’
Retra glanced to either side of the path but saw nothing save shadowy, low bushes, stretching away into the night. The smell of musk made her look up into the sky. The black rainbow of bats was back, cutting through the starlight in a long arc of black.
‘Suki, do you hear that?’
‘What?-Hear-what?-What’re-you-talking-about?-All-I-can-smell-is-stinking-bats-Can’t-hear-nothing-’cept-myown-heartbeat-bang-bang-bang,’ Suki raved. She jigged as they walked, unable to keep her limbs still.
Retra pressed closer to the people in front of her. She felt relieved when the stars blinked out and they entered Abraxas’s cave system.
The first cave was small, more like an entrance hall, with Ripers standing around watching new arrivals.
She and Suki passed through it quickly into the next, which was wider with a raised stage cut from the rock wall, and passages running off it in different directions. A band of musicians spread across the stage, tuning instruments, most of which Retra didn’t recognise.
‘Krissie-says-Abraxas-has-performers-in-all-its-caves-We-just-have-to-find-the-one-with-Markes-now.’
Suki’s fast talking unnerved Retra. So did her jerky movements.
‘We could look separately,’ she said, feeling the sudden need to get some distance from Suki’s glittering eyes and fast mouth.
Suki danced on her toes a little, agitated. Tears filled her eyes and she ran off without a word.
Retra went to follow after her but fingers gripped her wrist and swung her around.
Modai.
‘In a hurry, baby bat? Why is that?’ He curled back his lips to show off sharp teeth. ‘What did you see? Who did you see?’
Two more Ripers joined him. Retra recognised Forlorn as one of them, but not the other. They crowded around her, blocking out most of the light from the club. She tried to squeeze between them but Modai caught her wrist again and held it, crushing the bones.
Retra made herself think outside the pain, the way she’d practised in Grave. She had survived the agony of the obedience strip where others had died from it. So could she think through this. ‘No one.’
‘Why were you running?’
‘Is there a rule not to run?’ she asked.
‘The rule is not to keep things from us.’
She held his dead gaze with one of her own. She would tell him nothing.
‘You’ve caused trouble among the Guardians,’ hissed Modai. ‘I knew you needed to be watched. Tell me what you are doing or –’ He lifted his other hand as if to strike her.
Retra twisted away, feeling his fingernails scratching her skin as she wrenched her wrist from his fingers.
She ran towards one of the passages but somehow the Ripers were in front of her before she could reach it. How could humans move so fast?
Retra glanced behind her to the crowd collected on the dance floor. The Ripers’ movements had caught their attention and they stopped dancing as a tall figure cut through the middle of them.
‘Modai?’
The Riper stepped back, head bowed in immediate obedience. ‘Lenoir.’
‘What has this batling done that you seek to harry her?’
‘I sense her falseness.’
‘Has she broken any of our rules?’
‘No, Lenoir.’
‘Then I suggest you and Leyste find other amusements.’ Lenoir’s voice was soft, almost gentle, and yet Modai became rigid.
Leyste? Retra searched the face of the unknown Riper – was he Leyste? Why did Leyste and Modai wish to taunt her?
She glanced back at Lenoir but he continued to stare at Modai.
Both of them had pale skin, dark, straight hair and lean, muscular physiques. How was it that on Lenoir the combination was so magnificent, and yet on Modai it was repellent?
‘Hey there! Sorry, did I interrupt something?’ A body barrelled into the middle of the group, breaking the tension.
It was Rollo. His red hair was dyed black and plastered to his head with sweat; his bare chest covered with snaking tattoos. He grinned and grabbed Retra around the waist, planting a wet kiss on her lips. ‘Been looking everywhere for you.’
Retra stiffened but didn’t move. Rollo felt hot and damp, his skin slippery against her bare arm and neck. His breath smelt sweet like her father’s, after prayer meetings and prayer wine, when he came to her room and spoke in maudlin tones of his disappointment in his son, and his marrow-deep conviction that she would not be allowed to follow the same path. Stay pure, Retra, Father had said, over and over. Stay pure.
But Charlonge’s warning chafed against her father’s, as if one sought to rub the other out. Modesty is a sin in Ixion.
She leaned into Rollo’s arms, pretending to welcome his affection. ‘M-me too,’ she stammered. ‘Where were you?’
Modai gazed at them with suspicion.
‘Come on,’ Rollo said. He began to steer her away from the Ripers towards one of the passages.
Retra felt Lenoir’s gaze follow her.
‘What did they want?’ asked Rollo, when they entered the next cave.
‘Nothing. I mean, I was running.’
‘So what?’
Retra shrugged. ‘Modai wanted to know why. I wouldn’t tell him. I didn’t think I should … have to.’
‘Stubborn, huh? Most people would tell Modai anything he asked. He’s so frossin’ scary.’
They walked over to a dark nook furnished with low couches. Couples huddled together on the seats, some kissing, others more than kissing, hands roaming each other’s bodies.
Retra wanted to turn away from it but walking in the near dark required concentration.
Rollo crooked his head against hers, clamping her body against him. ‘Don’t look behind but Modai’s followed us,’ he whispered.
They walked, entwined to an empty couch where Rollo fell onto the plush seat, pulling her down with him.
Modai stood at the cave entrance, watching.
Retra slid closer to Rollo and he put his arm around her again. They looked like any of the other couples there, she told herself. She tilted her face up to look at him and he pulled a face at her.
‘I saw you come in but I was kinda annoyed at how you ran off on me at the re-birth, so I was going to ignore you,’ said Rollo with disarming honesty. ‘Then I saw Modai hassling you.’
‘You know him?’
He rolled his eyes and licked a bead of sweat from his upper lip. ‘Everyone does. They say he’s the one who makes you disappear if you’re a troublemaker. But he seems real interested in you. Even back at the Register he was.’
‘You noticed?’
‘I notice a lot.’
Neither of them said anything more for a moment or two, letting the dance drumbeat fill the gap.
‘You’re here looking for someone, aren’t you? I mean like … someone who came before you,’ Rollo said, breaking their silence.
Her eyes widened in surprise.
He shrugged and frowned. ‘’S obvious you don’t really wanna be here. You’re a Seal, and not the rebel type Seal who wants to run away. You’re way too tight and rigid. And you’re not looking for this …’ He stroked her face.
She flinched.
‘See,’ he said.
‘It
’s not that I don’t want …’ she protested. ‘It’s just that … you didn’t ask and I … I …’ She let the words fade. How could she tell him she found him unappealing?
Conversation lapsed between them again.
Rollo stared openly at the couple making out across from them, his expression envious. Retra thought about getting up and leaving but Modai still lingered at the railing near the lift.
‘What if I tell you about me? Will you trust me a bit more? I mean … I’m making most of the conversation anyway, I might as well.’ Rollo laughed then, just as easily he had frowned before. ‘I ran away from home.’
Retra stared at him. ‘We all did that.’
‘No … I ran away from home. Not to Ixion. See … my dad is … he’s on the Grave Council.’
Retra swallowed to wet a sudden dry patch in the back of her throat. A councillor’s son. She’d never met one before. Council lived in the wealthy part of Grave North, in rich houses behind the giant, growing wall that protected them from … everything. Not like the grim mesh fence of the Seal Enclave. No wonder Rollo knew so much about history. Councillors were allowed free reign of the library. They decided on what people learned. They made Grave’s rules. The Council had ordered the warden to keep surveillance on her family. ‘I d-don’t understand. Why did you leave then?’
‘He wanted me to be a councillor too. It usually works that way. Father to son.’ Rollo screwed up his face as if he was nursing a mouthful of bitters. ‘I hate what they do. My dad took me to court sessions to prepare me – all these creepy old men in wigs and masks. Making rules. Making people’s lives a misery. Telling what they can and can’t do. How they should think.’
‘Hush,’ whispered Retra, automatically. ‘Don’t speak of them like that.’
The air squashed from her lungs at the memory of the Council’s clicking electro-eyes on her nakedness.
‘Why? They can’t do anything to us here –’ Rollo broke off in sudden understanding. ‘You’ve been on probation, haven’t you?’
Retra crossed her arms over her chest in an involuntary movement.
‘See. You must understand. That’s why I don’t want to be one of them. They have no right to do that sort of thing. No right!’ he cried out.
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