THE SHINING WALL
THE
SHINING
WALL
MELISSA
FERGUSON
MELBOURNE, AUSTRALIA
www.transitlounge.com.au
First published 2019
Transit Lounge Publishing
Copyright © 2019 Melissa Ferguson
This book is copyright. Apart from any fair dealing for the purpose of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without written permission. Inquiries should be made to the publisher.
Cover design: Josh Durham/Design by Committee
Author photograph: Tanja Rankin Photography
Typeset in Berkely Oldstyle 11.5/16pt by Cannon Typesetting
Printed in Australia by McPherson’s Printing Group
A cataloguing-in-publication entry is available from the
National Library of Australia: trove.nla.gov.au
ISBN: 978-1-925760-18-7
For those born on the wrong side of the wall
CHAPTER 1
If you don’t clutch at foolish hopes, life’s miseries can’t wound you so bad – that’s what Mum always said. Still, Alida held on to a smidge of hope that Mum’s fever would break. Leaving her weaker and thinner for sure. But alive.
The virus was brutal. It had moved through the Demi-Settlements like the rumour of an overturned LeaderCorp supply truck. Until three days ago Alida had reckoned they’d got lucky. The outbreak had nearly burnt itself out when Mum started coughing.
Mum’s hand was hot and clammy. She’d stopped moaning and writhing at least, and her face was calm in the dim light. Graycie was zonked out, sucking on the edge of her blanket, her fingers tangled in Alida’s hair. All around them the neighbours slept in their own flimsy homes, their lamps out for the night.
Alida had been awake for two nights straight, keeping Mum comfy. Falling asleep was usually a trick she played on her brain. She’d pretend she wasn’t interested, turn her back and let sleep creep up on her. Now that she needed to stay awake, for Mum, sleep wouldn’t leave her alone. Her thoughts wriggled free of her grip, only to come back together as a soothing gobbledygook.
Mum shuddered, pulling Alida back from the threshold of a dream. Alida pinched the fleshy inner part of her upper arm to give herself a jolt. She pushed the curls off Mum’s damp forehead. Her skin was pale and patchy, her lips split and flaking. Alida memorised the terrain of Mum’s face, all the healed breaks along her nose and the sunspots across her cheeks. Mum’s shallow breaths caught rhythmically in her throat, hypnotising Alida until her eyelids drooped.
Some people bounced back from the virus. Maybe Mum could too. At thirty-six she was still youngish – only seventeen years older than Alida. But the melanomas spreading through her body, and the harsh chemicals she swallowed to fight them, had left her weak, susceptible to every passing sickness.
Alida closed her eyes, just for a moment, to ease the burn of her dry eyeballs, and opened them to light and people banging around, shouting and laughing, and littlies squealing.
Morning.
Mum’s hand was cold. She hadn’t been there for her last moments. Had Mum wanted to say some last words? Had she felt alone and unloved? Alida would never know and she would never forgive herself.
Graycie sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She reached for Mum.
‘She’s gone.’
‘No!’ Graycie punched Mum’s chest with her little fists, her white-blonde hair whipping around. ‘She’s supposed to look after me. She said always.’
Alida lifted Graycie away and held her in her arms. ‘It’s okay, little bird.’
When the tears dried up and Graycie was juddering with hiccups, Alida’s thoughts turned to practicalities. They’d get by. She’d have to flog more scavenged goods from the burbs to keep them from going hungry, but they’d get by. She dried her sister’s cheeks and cleaned away the yellow crust around her eyes.
There were things they had to do. First was to show no weakness to their neighbours. Alida would have to be as fearsome as Mum had been if she wanted to hold on to what was theirs and keep Graycie safe. And they’d have to remove the body, before the bugs and rats rocked up.
‘I have to take Mum to the bio-recycler.’
Graycie curled up in the corner, her back away from Mum, sucking on her blanket again.
‘Do you wanna say goodbye before I take her?’
Graycie rolled over and touched Mum’s hair, then rolled away again. Alida blinked away tears and tucked Mum up in her own ratty blanket. Alida didn’t even know what Mum reckoned happened after death. Mum had spent her childhood in an anti-tekker, nature-revering cult called the Rewilders and her grandmother had filled her with all sorts of religious stories about heaven and hell. Wherever she ended up, Alida hoped Mum could finally rest.
She didn’t want to hand Mum over to a corpse collector. They needed the bio-recycler credits for themselves, and the idea of strangers with their paws all over Mum’s body was icky. She had suffered enough of that in life. Alida hoisted Mum over her shoulder. The virus had stripped the meat from her bones and she weighed shit-all.
‘I’ll be back soon.’
Graycie nodded.
Mum’s hair swung limply over Alida’s heart. Why did her mother have to die? Every other virus had passed them by with no hassle. It wasn’t right that Mum had died so young and those plasticised oldies in City 1 were shiny and smooth well after their hundredth birthdays.
Alida wove her way out beyond the roof of what had once been an open-air market. She pulled the hood of her SunSuit over her hair and went out into the hottest part of the day. People wouldn’t meet her eye, but she suspected they were taking note. Sweat trickled down her sides and her breath came fast. The LeaderCorp Hub that housed the bio-recycler was a ten-minute slog without extra weight to carry. The uneven ground jolted her knees with every step. She walked on the side with a little shade, close to housepods, shacks and tents.
Littlies skipped around her legs, trying to see what was in the blanket. Alida couldn’t remember the last time she’d played like them. There would be even less chance of playing now that Mum was gone. When she was five, like Graycie was now, she’d been a pro at looking after herself – already bringing home treasures from the inner burbs. But Graycie had always been sickly: runny tummy, titchy for her age, red crusty eyes and sores that wouldn’t heal. It was a miracle a virus had never nabbed her.
Shapes at knee height moved at the edges of Alida’s vision. On the left she clocked two mutts, their heads low. Alida scowled. She was no good with mutts. They had a history.
‘Rack off!’ She stamped her foot. She stumbled forward a little, trying to right the weight on her shoulder.
‘Alida.’
She turned slowly and spied Zave in the curtained doorway of a shipping container. He smoothed down his streaky blonde hair, picked up some rocks and chucked them at the mutts. They bolted, lips curled into gruesome smiles, tails over their buttholes.
‘Zave.’ Tears squeezed out and Alida blinked them back.
Zave put a hand on her waist. ‘Your mum?’ he whispered.
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
‘Let me help.’
She wasn’t too proud to accept help when it was offered. Especially with hungry mutts and curious littlies circling.
Zave stood behind her and took some of the weight of the blanket. They continued towards the hub.
‘Fuck off,’ Zave yelled at the littlies. He chucked another rock at a mutt that came close enough for a sniff.
Alida held her head a bit higher with Zave helping her. She could almost imagine they were taking Mum for a prop
er funeral and burying her somewhere beautiful. Alida wondered if Mum would like that and then she remembered Mum was dead and had no more opinions about anything.
There were three other corpses ahead of them at the recycler chute. When it was their turn they hoisted the body onto the polished metal, blanket and all, and waited for verification of death and the calculated value of the organic materials.
Alida wished she had prepared some kind of speech or something. Would she look back one day and regret that she hadn’t made more of a ceremony of these last moments with Mum? Maybe if she could remember one of the religious stories Mum sometimes told. Even just a phrase. Alida’s mind was as blank as her credit chip. And there were people waiting behind them to ditch their own dead.
‘Death verified,’ said the bio-recycler artificial intelligence. ‘Please scan your wrist chip for credit transfer.’
‘Goodbye, Mum.’
The chute closed and Mum disappeared.
CHAPTER 2
Alida squashed her nose up against the passenger-side window. Dust billowed around the car. A week ago, before Mum got sick, this would’ve been the most exciting thing ever: her first time in a car. Shame it was taking her somewhere she didn’t want to go. She waved at one of her gawking neighbours. Grief made her weak. She couldn’t let anyone clock that.
‘They can’t check you through the tinted windows.’ Ganya took one hand off the steering wheel to scratch the kaleidoscope of flowers tattooed on her scalp.
‘How do I open the window?’
‘Don’t open the window.’
‘This button?’ Alida tapped a button below her window and it rolled down.
‘Eish! Close the bloody window, Alida.’
Hot air gusted into the car, carrying the stench of unwashed bodies, ash and smoke, melting plastic and hints of someone’s breakfast cooking. Alida’s curly black hair bustled about, riding the air currents, like a dancer in some music tube. She stuck her head out the window. ‘It’s me, Alida. I’m in a car,’ she yelled.
‘Classy.’ In the back Zave chuckled, his legs spread wide, his arm draped across the top of the seat. Playing it cool, like he got to ride in cars regular or something.
Ganya tapped the dashboard. The window whirred and the glass came up, closing off the outside.
‘Hey!’
‘Don’t push me, Alida.’
Alida sat back in her seat, swallowing a smart reply. Cool air came through a vent and blew gently on her face. Soon the car stank fresh and bland once again.
‘So I’m guessing Freel wants to ask me about the rent situation.’ Alida clenched her jaw and stared out through the windscreen.
‘Firstly, he wants to offer condolences for your mum.’ Ganya slowed and pounded on the car horn, scattering a pack of mutts from the road.
Alida’s throat was suddenly dry.
‘I liked your mum. I grew attached to her over the years. She did everything for you kids.’
‘Yep, I know.’ Tears stung Alida’s sinuses. She had always suspected Ganya was sweet on her mum, and Mum had insisted Ganya had a kind heart.
‘Secondly, rent hasn’t been paid on your digs in three weeks.’
Yep. Freel was a businessman. He wouldn’t have squeezed out any tears over Mum. His workers were nothing but credit machines to him.
‘Hell. Can’t he give me a break for a stretch? I was planning on doing some scavenging in the burbs today, before you rocked up and nabbed me.’
She’d have to flog a shitload more scavenged goods if she wanted to make rent and keep them from going hungry.
‘Well, I think Freel has some other ideas.’
Alida grunted. She wiped her sweaty palms on the canvas bag in her lap. She had her hopes set on Freel paying enough for her slick private book collection to cover their rent arrears and a couple of weeks in advance. She also suspected he might offer her a gig now there wasn’t a Mum-shaped barrier between them.
Zave leaned forward between the front seats. ‘Do you reckon he has any work for me?’
‘I doubt it, Zave. He didn’t ask to see you.’
Zave sat back, out of Alida’s vision. ‘Hey, Alida wanted me here. She’s fragile right now. Where she goes, I go.’
That wasn’t exactly legit. Zave had been keeping her company since Mum died. When Ganya rocked up to collect Alida he’d practically begged to go with them to see Freel. Alida would’ve preferred it if he’d stayed behind and watched Graycie – then she wouldn’t have had to pay creche fees. Alida had never really clocked how much dosh Mum shelled out every day.
Ganya turned the car out of the Market settlements and onto one of the sealed roads LeaderCorp maintained for its armoured vehicles. The ride became smoother and quieter and the dust fell away. Alida pressed into the seat as Ganya sped up.
They turned off the sealed road and onto another dirt road, the edges less crowded with shacks. The large rectangular building that loomed ahead had once been a museum. Ganya parked the car to the right of the main entrance. Alida’s mind groped for the word to describe the lush, unbroken blanket of green that surrounded it. A lawn. An expanse of grass without shacks, shipping containers, housepods, fire pits, vegie gardens or grazing animals. A bit of a waste of space, really, and a waste of water, too. A clear line separated the sprawl and chaos of the Demi-Settlements from Freel’s domain.
They got out of the car and yanked the hoods of their SunSuits over their heads. Ganya led the way.
Alida craned her neck to get a good look at the whole building. The windows along the front had been barricaded with riveted metal. On the bright side, she’d finally get a look inside. Ganya placed her hand on a panel beside the wooden door and a computerised voice spoke.
‘Welcome home, Ganya.’
The doors swung open.
‘Ta, BIS. I’m bringing in two guests. Please register them.’
‘As you wish. Please ask your guests to place their hands on the bio-security panel and state their names.’
They registered and followed Ganya. In the cool foyer, goosebumps came up on Alida’s arms. The glass eyes of hundreds of mangy-looking taxidermied animals glinted beneath electric lights. The bones of an enormous creature hung from the ceiling.
‘Whoah.’
‘I know – cool, yeah?’ Zave said.
Alida hugged the bag of books to her chest and shivered.
Three hallways led from the foyer. Alida would’ve liked a tour of the whole building, but that seemed as likely as a Citizen inviting a Demi for dinner. Ganya took them down the left hallway, walking past several closed doors and stopping at the last one.
‘Freel’s with someone right now. He’ll be done in a sec.’ Ganya waited with them, her face slack and her eyes moving rapidly, watching a tube on her brain implant or something.
Alida waggled her fingers in front of Ganya’s nose and poked out her tongue.
‘I’m not blind.’
‘Right. Just checking.’ Alida had always been fascinated with Citizens, and ex-Citizens like Freel and Ganya, who were lucky enough to have brain implants.
Zave fussed with his hair and wiped under his bottom eyelashes to remove smudged eyeliner. ‘I need Freel to find me another client. The one I had moved to City 3. I’d gotten used to the income, you know?’
Alida suspected she did know. She and Graycie had never stressed about getting by while Mum was gigging. She rolled her head around to loosen the tension in her neck.
The door to Freel’s office opened and a young boy with red swollen eyes stepped out. Alida’s stomach lurched. Mum had tried so hard to keep Alida away from Freel all her life that in her imagination he’d grown into a combination of an all-powerful god and a cagey monster.
‘Come in.’ Ganya held the door open.
Inside wasn’t as shiny or lofty as Alida had expected. She’d imagined Freel would have a large room with a stage and a kind of throne he lounged upon to receive petitioners. The walls were lined with glass cabinets filled with
browning skulls, insects pinned to boards, statues of weirdly shaped humans, ancient weapons and tools, and other objects in metal, wood, cloth and stone that Alida had no names for. Her fingers itched to touch them all.
‘This is the last straw,’ Freel said to himself.
He sat behind a desk in a big comfy-looking chair. Alida had only ever spied him from a distance. Up close he had almost fluorescent green eyes beneath black brows, and cheekbones that made her suck in her own cheeks. Glossy layered hair fell to his shoulders and brushed against his charcoal-coloured shirt. He was inhuman, or maybe extra-human – enough for his real age to be impossible to guess. He fussed with an OmniScreen on his desk. ‘Give me a moment.’
‘What’s going on?’ Alida whispered to Ganya.
‘Another of our girls kicked it from a virus. That was her son, come to tell Freel.’
‘Ah.’
Freel looked up from the OmniScreen. His eyes narrowed for a second as he clocked Zave and then settled on Alida. He smiled. ‘The elusive Alida. Ganya was right. You have grown into an attractive young lady.’
Alida wrinkled her nose and Zave fidgeted beside her. Mum was right. Freel was a creepy perv.
‘Sorry about your mum. She was one of my best workers before her illness took hold. Those LeaderCorp pricks …’ Freel said this more to himself. He stared beyond them.
Alida glanced at Zave. He shrugged slightly.
‘Um, I know you sent for me to chat about this rent situation, but I have something to show you.’
Freel’s attention snapped back to her. ‘Oh yeah? Pitch me a deal then.’ His eyebrow quirked.
She held up the bag of books. ‘I’m selling off my personal collection. Reckoned I’d give you an exclusive preview.’
Freel waved her over and cleared a space on his desk. ‘It’s a pleasure to finally deal with my best book procurer in person.’
He went through the books, making greedy sounds. It was a mixed collection. Some hardcovers, some paperbacks. Some shiny and others ragged around the edges. Of all the books that had passed through Alida’s hands, these were the ones she had clung to. Each of them had made her life a little cheerier, either by taking her to fantastic worlds, shinier than her own, or by showing her worlds much nastier. Alida breathed deeply and slowly. She still held these stories in her mind. She might never be able to hold the books again, but the stories would always be hers. It was stupid to hold anything too close in the Demi-Settlements.
The Shining Wall Page 1