Toxic Treacle

by Echo Freer

  He felt ridiculous walking around town dressed as a nurturer. It was one thing to cycle out into the rurals like it, where no one was likely to see him, but to brazen it out in the middle of town was ranged! He kept his head lowered,partly to avoid the cameras but also so that he wouldn’t be recognised by any marauding Mooners or passing pre-nurturers from school. The last thing he wanted was Moni Morrison to see him in a skirt and get Security on to him - apart from anything else, there was no way he’d be able to leg it in court shoes!

  A pile of wilting flowers round the base of the clock tower brought him to an abrupt stop. They were in memory of Fuse and he paused for a moment, paying his respects to his mate. As he stood by the flowers, the interminable advertising screens flashed their slogans across The Plaza. Slogans that, a few weeks ago, he would never have thought to question: RESPECT BREEDS RESPECT. Respect? he thought, bitterly. What does The Assembly know about respect? Where was their respect for breeders and providers? He was on the point of turning away when one of the plasma-screens flashed up the next advert and Monkey stood frozen to the spot.

  WANTED

  FOR CONSPIRACY TO COMMIT

  ACTS OF TREASON

  Below the headline were two photographs, one of himself, the other of Angel. He went cold. His eyes darted around the people making their way home - females to their families, males to their segregated zones - checking that he hadn’t been recognised. Monkey pulled up the collar of his nurturer’s coat and dropped his head again, walking as quickly as he could to Leadlow Chambers.

  Eric’s practice was on the ground floor of a large office block at the north side of The Plaza but, when Monkey arrived, the building was in darkness. He pressed the entry-phone and rattled the doors. He checked his ring-cam - 18:05. He’d wasted time. It had taken him ten minutes to walk there. But, even though he was late, the building was in darkness and the last thing he wanted was to be hanging around dressed as he was. Nervously, he pressed the buzzer by the door again.

  If he didn’t get any response this time, he told himself, he was getting out of there - pronto. A light flickered on and Monkey could just make out an elderly post-nurturer as she shuffled through to the front of the office and buzzed him in. Eric, she said, was still in court. He’d been due back an hour ago but Roxanne was welcome to wait.

  ‘Erm...’ Monkey’s mind went blank. He hadn’t planned for this. ‘Fine,’ he muttered in as high-pitched tone as he could manage.

  He took a seat in the corner of the waiting room, relieved to be able to take the weight off his feet. How nurturers walked all day in those shoes was beyond him! He looked at his ring-cam again - 18:10. Idly, he scrolled through the plasma-journals on a low table in front of him but most of the news was of the election. He pressed the Sports button and saw an account of a pro-football exhibition. Any other time, it would have been interesting but, today, he couldn’t focus. Time was running on. The elderly secretary was hovering, obviously keen to leave. Monkey was sure she was eyeing him suspiciously. Perhaps she’d recognised him from the wanted posters in town? He kept his head low, checking the time every few minutes.

  Monkey had just decided to leave it and make another appointment when a tall male figure came through the door and spoke distractedly to Monkey and the secretary at once.

  ‘Good evening, I’m sorry I’m late. Thank you, Frances, you can go now. Roxanne, if you’d follow me, I’ll see you now.’

  Monkey stared at the back of his head as he led him through to an office at the back of the building. Was this really his father? This brusque individual who hadn’t even given him a second glance? Since seeing Tragic with Tom, Monkey had played through this moment a hundred times; sometimes, Eric had recognised his son instantly and had clutched him to his chest, others it had taken a few moments to register. In none of his imaginings had Eric walked past him without even a hint of recognition. Monkey swallowed to hide his disappointment and began to wonder if this had been such a good idea after all.

  The office was large and disorganised. Books, files and plasma-papers littered the desk. Eric poured himself a cup of coffee from a machine on the side, flicked on a large screen and indicated for Monkey to sit down.

  ‘I understand,’ he said, rubbing his head and staring at the screen, ‘that you’ve been referred to me by...’ His voice trailed away as he scoured the screen for the information he required. ‘I’m afraid I don’t appear to...’

  Monkey’s heart was racing. He could feel his cheeks flushed and hot. He pulled the wig from his head and said falteringly, ‘P.A.R.E.N.T. I’ve been referred by Jane Patterson and some other members of P.A.R.E.N.T. who’ve been arrested for...’

  Eric looked at him coldly. ‘I’m aware of the circumstances of Jane Patterson’s arrest. Now perhaps you can explain who you are and why you are wasting my time by entering my premises under false pretences. You have two minutes before I summon Security.’

  Monkey felt his throat constrict. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. ‘It’s me,’ he faltered. ‘Mickey - Michael Gibbon.’ Eric remained expressionless. ‘Your son!’

  Eric nodded slowly. ‘Are you aware that you are wanted for treason?’

  Anger rumbled up from Monkey’s guts. ‘Is that it? Is that all you can manage after fifteen years?’

  ‘What did you expect?’ Eric poured another cup of coffee and sighed. ‘A sentimental male bonding experience, perhaps?’

  Monkey rose to his feet. ‘Yes, actually, that’s exactly what I was expecting. Stupidly, I thought you might be happy to see the son you gave your genes to.’

  Eric eyed him over the rim of his coffee cup. ‘It was a business transaction; nothing more. I gave Vivian my...’

  ‘I know what you gave her!’ Monkey held out his arms as if to say: here I am - look at me. ‘I just thought you might be a little more interested in what you got in return.’

  ‘A son who’s a dissident and a traitor,’ Eric mused. ‘Not a good investment, I’d say.’

  ‘Cheers! So that’s all I am to you is it? A bad investment?’ Monkey shook his head in despair. ‘So why did you invest in the first place? Because The Assembly required you to?’

  Eric raised an eyebrow. ‘You’ll understand when your time comes.’

  ‘Nice of you to keep track - but guess what? My time has come - and I don’t understand. Perhaps you could explain why you chose to breed - three times - with the same nurturer and then walk away. You’re clearly a bloke with a brain,’ Monkey’s voice was rising, ‘but you’re telling me that you’ve never questioned the system? Never wondered what happened to your children?’

  ‘Vivian let me know when you and Penny were born - and I put two and two together when I saw the posters.’

  ‘And that’s it? That’s the extent of your input? To know that I’d been born?’

  Eric shrugged. ‘It’s for the best.’

  Monkey slapped his hand to his head. ‘Jeez! You sound just like Vivian! What is it with you people? You know, a month ago, I was buying into the whole Assembly thing too - but my excuse is that I was young and didn’t know any better. Now, I may be only a few weeks older, but I’ve seen better - with my own eyes. I know there’s an alternative. What’s your excuse?’

  Eric sighed and looked at his ring-cam - gold, flashy and obviously expensive. ‘It’s better to maintain the status quo. If it’s not broken, don’t fix it and the system works very well.’

  ‘How?’ Monkey was exasperated. ‘Have you walked round town at night recently? You might get to sit in your nice penthouse with your flashy furniture but the movs can’t cope! There are hoods running riot out there. My friend was shot - practically on your doorstep - because the pres are out of control and you big fat providers are happy just to sit back and maintain the status quo.’ He sucked in air through his teeth in disgust. ‘I really thought more highly of you than that.’
>
  Eric remained impassive. ‘If you can’t be honest with me, at least be honest with yourself, Michael. Admit it: if you weren’t in trouble with The Assembly, you wouldn’t be here now. Amazing how you’ve shown not one iota of interest in who bred you until you’re on the run. Then, hey presto, you come knocking at my door - wanting free legal representation I’ve no doubt. Well, let me tell you - I’ve worked hard to build up this practice and I will not jeopardise it for the likes of you and your little band of revolutionaries.’

  Monkey slumped down in the chair again. ‘For your information - Dad – I didn’t even know I’d been accused of treason until I was on the way here. I’ve wanted to trace you since a friend of mine showed me how fathers and sons could work together, supporting each other, caring about one another...’ He swallowed, determined not to let his bitter disappointment affect him. ‘...even love each other!’ He leant forward in the chair and held Eric’s gaze. ‘I risked my own life, and the lives of other people, to find out who you were and where I could find you. It’s got nothing to do with wanting anything from you - except a relationship.’ He leant back, emotionally drained. ‘But it seems that I was expecting too much. I was thinking I’d find a man with balls. Instead, I find someone too old, or too tired, or too selfish to care about anyone except himself. And,’ he said, standing and pulling on his wig, ‘traitor or no traitor, I’m ashamed to say I’m your offspring. I won’t trouble you again.’

  Eric rose. ‘I’ll show you to the door.’

  ‘Don’t bother.’

  Eric followed him out of the office. ‘You should be grateful - I really ought to have held you here and informed Security.’

  ‘So, why don’t you?’ Monkey challenged. ‘I’m clearly nothing to you so go ahead - don’t do me any favours.’

  As they reached the door Eric turned to his son. ‘For what it’s worth, it’s been good to see you. I’m sorry about the circumstances. I had every intention of looking you up when you graduated, but there isn’t any room for sentimentality in the Providers’ Zone - you would’ve understood if you hadn’t...’

  Monkey ground his teeth. ‘Save it.’

  He made to open the glass door but stopped and stared at the scene of chaos outside in The Plaza. A stealth beamed its intermittent light around the square like a crimson strobe. Security officers had surrounded two females. The mov was shouting and being restrained; the younger pre was being arrested. Monkey recognised the nurturer first: it was Sally Ellison, Angel’s nurturer. A cold shaft of dread filled his being. He looked towards the pre who was being dragged into the stealth - and his worst fear was realised. They’d got Angel.

  Parental Responsibility

  A scream froze in his throat. All rational thought deserted him. He wanted to run out there and save her. He’d be arrested, too, he knew that but, without Angel, what did it matter? His own life, Tragic’s - they all meant nothing if she wasn’t there with him.

  Monkey turned on Eric. ‘You bastard! You did this - didn’t you?’

  Eric’s eyes flashed from his son to the scene outside. ‘Don’t be absurd.’

  Sally Ellison’s cries were blocked by the triple-glazed door but the anguish on her face howled volumes. Monkey watched as the Security officers tossed her to one side and the stealth, with Angel inside, crept slowly from The Plaza. He lashed out, catching Eric with his fist but Eric caught his wrist and held his son at arm’s length.

  In rage, Monkey kicked out. ‘Satisfied?’ he railed. ‘Are they coming for me next? You got what you wanted?’ Eric watched his son’s grief and anger without comment. ‘Well there’s more of us you know! Hundreds - thousands! All over the country!’ Monkey shouted. ‘And you won’t beat us. You can arrest as many radicals as you want but you won’t win because in the end there are more people like us who are interested in their offspring than the likes of you and my sad excuse of a nurturer.’ He shook his hands free and glared at Eric. Calmer after his outburst, he looked his father in the eye. ‘I knew it was a long shot coming here but I never dreamt you’d betray your own flesh and blood.’

  ‘I didn’t,’ Eric said.

  ‘Yeah, right!’ From the corner of his eye Monkey caught a flash of movement in the glow of the street lights. He looked again. It couldn’t be. The interior light of the foyer was turned off, making the office darker than outside. A figure was standing in a doorway, not twenty metres from Leadlow Chambers. And there was no mistaking her features. Moni Morrison was standing against a wall, arms folded, a look of smug satisfaction on her face. Then she turned and a second pre-nurturer came out of the shadows. It was his sister, Penny, and she, too, was grinning.

  ‘Shiltz!’ Monkey swore under his breath.

  ‘Now, who’s betraying their own flesh and blood?’ Eric asked.

  Monkey spun round. ‘You recognise her!’ It was an accusation rather than a question. ‘You’ve seen her before, haven’t you? How?’

  ‘Come through to the back office,’ Eric’s tone was gentler.

  ‘Why, so that you can keep me here ‘till I’m arrested too? Forget it.’ Monkey made to open the door but Eric blocked his way. ‘You must be very proud of how your daughter’s turned out. Ironic though - don’t you think - that I’m the one wanted for treason? Nice work, Dad! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back.’ Monkey’s voice was laden with contempt.

  ‘Where will you go?’ Eric asked.

  ‘Like I’m gonna tell you,’ Monkey sneered.

  ‘Look, I didn’t have Sally’s girl arrested and I’m not going to hand you over, either.’

  ‘Sally’s girl?’ So, Eric not only recognised his own daughter, but he also knew Angel’s nurturer. Monkey didn’t trust him. ‘When are you gonna come clean and tell me what’s going on?’

  ‘Sit down,’ Eric told him, but Monkey remained standing.

  Eric raised an eyebrow. ‘Explain to me how you think the re-introduction of fathers into families will help?’

  ‘Adolescent males need role models. It’s that simple.’

  ‘Need them, why?’

  ‘To model how we’re supposed to be!’ Monkey clenched and unclenched his fists with exasperation. ‘It’s not rocket science.’

  ‘Go on,’ Eric encouraged.

  ‘We’ve got no one to aspire to - except females; no one to teach us how to act; what we’re supposed to do, what we’re supposed to enjoy. That sort of thing.’ He was expecting a response from his father, but none came. ‘When I was at alpha- school I tried to sit in the urinals because I didn’t know what they were for. You know, there’re even some pres who can’t piss standing up - because no one’s ever taught them! No one can show us how to be adult males except adult males - and we don’t see any until we graduate.’ He began pacing the floor. ‘It’s too late by then. The damage is done. Have you been out on the streets lately? We’re killing each other because there’s no one to keep us in line. If this carries on, there won’t be any breeders or providers - they’ll have killed each other because the only training we’ve had is “love conquers everything” and “respect breeds respect”. And it’s all horseshit!’ His eyes scanned the room. ‘And, if you’ve got this place bugged, I don’t care that I’ve used profane language. That should be the least of The Assembly’s worries. Kids need dads. There has to be a balance.’

  Eric nodded, and Monkey thought he looked as though he was addressing the Court. ‘You’re supposed to be advocating fathers being involved in their families and appear to cite your main reason as being one of discipline - and yet you won’t even sit down when I - your father - ask you to.’

  He’d walked right into that, Monkey grudgingly conceded. ‘What do you want?’ he asked, sitting down. After all, what had he got to lose? Angel had gone. He was wanted for treason. In two days, he’d be packed off to The Ridings. What’s the worst that could happen?

 
Eric paced the floor of the office. ‘In the past, I have worked with Sally Ellison,’ he explained. ‘That’s how I recognised her. As for your sister - yes, you’re right - I have made it my business to follow her progress - and yours. From afar, you understand. I have never breached Assembly laws.’

  ‘Perish the thought!’

  Eric shot Monkey a look. ‘I was a little older than you when I went off to fight in the Oil Wars. Of course I was only involved for a year or so...’

  Monkey made to rise. ‘This is hardly the time for a potted family history. In case you didn’t notice, my...’ He hesitated, unsure how to describe Angel. Friend? She was more than that. Girlfriend - as Tragic had described Zoë in the village? It sounded old-fashioned. The girl I love, he wanted to say. But he couldn’t. Love wasn’t allowed between genders: procreation, not pleasure. No emotional attachment. That was The Assembly’s rule. But the reality was, he did love her. He ached inside and wanted to get out of there, find her and rescue her. ‘I need to go,’ he said, simply.

  ‘I was in love once,’ Eric said.

  Monkey stopped, shocked. This was treasonable talk. He looked round, anxiously, checking that they weren’t being filmed: that he wasn’t being led into a trap.

  ‘Long before Vivian came on the scene. She was called Juliet and, when I went off to the war and left her, it felt as though a hole had been cut out of my chest.’ Something had changed. Eric’s previous harsh demeanour had softened and he spoke quietly. ‘I saw terrible things in the war and lost many friends but none of it compared to leaving Juliet.’ Monkey wasn’t sure where this was going. He hadn’t even known that his provider had been in the war, and all this personal stuff was too much information. ‘Sally’s girl - the one who was arrested...’

  ‘What about her?’ Monkey said defensively.

  ‘You love her, don’t you?’

  ‘Look, cheers for the overdue interest, but I’m outta here.’