Janux half-smiled back. “Yes, a Human does get superb treatment, sir.”
“Don’t be silly, ma’am,” he said cheerfully. “Everyone here is treated the same way, with respect, dignity and open friendliness. We’re so lucky to have such wonderful government workers on this beautiful island.”
A young woman then appeared and asked the tall man if he preferred tea or coffee. He asked for coffee and the young woman disappeared again, telling him she wouldn’t be long.
“See what I mean, ma’am? They’re very welcoming here.”
“Yes, of course they are,” Janux replied. “You are a Human, after all.”
The tall man’s smile faded as he turned to face Janux. “Are you trying to tell me something, lady?”
Janux looked straight ahead and watched impassively as the young woman returned with a mug of coffee for the tall man and a biscuit wrapped in cellophane, addressing him with warmth and camaraderie.
“Janux Lennan,” a man’s voice barked.
Janux jumped, and turned to see a white-coated, small, stout man with a beard, standing in the far doorway holding a clipboard.
“Yes, that’s me.” She rose from her seat and turned to look at Curtis.
“Go on, you’ll be okay.” He watched as she walked away.
Janux followed the man along a narrow corridor and into a room where a female photographer stood waiting. The stout man smiled at the woman, then abruptly left the room without speaking.
“You are Janux Lennan?” the photographer said.
“Yes, I am,” Janux replied.
“Take this card and hold it in front of you while I take your photograph. I’ll need one frontal shot and two side ones. And I’ll also be photographing your hands and feet. Stand facing this light, please.” Janux was directed where to plant her feet and how to hold the card on which were printed her name, species, birth date and marital status.
“But I thought I was going to be microchipped,” Janux protested.
“You are, ma’am, but first of all I need your photos so they can be stored on our microchip identification system. If people tamper with their chips then their data and photos won’t match up when they’re scanned. It’s purely a security formality which everyone must have done by law. I hope you’re not going to object, for that could be considered a serious breach of national security.”
“For Kieran’s sake, just hurry up and take them.” Janux blinked against the bright light, holding the obligatory identification card.
The photographer took her time, and in between each photo wrote notes in a small notebook. Finally it was time for Janux’s hands and feet to be done.
“Place both your hands onto this glass table,” the woman said and as Janux obeyed, “No, I want your fingers to be splayed.” Janux’s ID card was then placed next to her hands and several photos taken. “Remove your sandals now, Mrs Lennan, and stand on this glass pad.”
Janux had ordinary five-toed feet.
“Which of your parents is or was Human?”
Janux felt vulnerable in front of this efficient, businesslike Human government employee. She knew she could do nothing but succumb to this perfectly legal intrusion into her private life. She also knew that from now on these facts would be available to anyone in the government who might want them – forever under her skin and open for every police scanner on the island. Muritai seemed no longer the safe sanctuary she had once sought.
“My mother is Human,” Janux said.
“And where does she live?”
“In Ireland.”
“Father?”
“In Ireland, with my mother.”
“You can sit down now while I type your details into the computer. After that I’ll take you to the microchip room. Any questions?”
“Yes, I do have a question. Do Humans also have their hands and feet photographed?”
The woman looked surprised then laughed. “Of course not, Mrs Lennan - there is no need. They have no Ryxin blood. Why do you ask?”
“I’d like to be treated equally with Humans,” she replied abruptly.
“That’s not possible, Mrs Lennan. Of course you’re free to make a written complaint before you leave here, but I must urge you to think twice before doing so since complaints are treated very seriously by our government. In fact, complaints mean you will need to go before a committee of eight people and be questioned to see if you’re a potential troublemaker.”
“You mean intimidated so I won’t dare complain again?”
Just then the stout, bearded man appeared in the doorway. “It is time for Mrs Lennan to receive her microchip,” he stated sombrely. “Are you done with the photographs, Jane?”
The photographer looked flustered. “All done, sir. You may go now, Mrs Lennan.”
Janux followed the man down another corridor and into a brightly lit room that smelled of disinfectant. She was asked to take off her sandals and lie face-down on an examination table covered with a white sheet. She did so and soon felt something cold and wet being wiped over the nape of her neck just below the hairline.
“Try and relax, Mrs Lennan. You may feel a slight stinging sensation, but you must not move your head. This will take only a few moments.”
Janux felt frightened but knew she must obey these all-powerful H-government officials. Not to could bring down the full force of their ugly new laws.
“Hold still now, it will be over in second or two.” His hand pressed her down on the table.
Janux felt a sharp, stinging pain as the syringe pierced her skin and embedded the tiny glass tube containing her personal details into the subcutaneous skin of her neck. She wanted to cry or scream but she just lay there until it was over.
“You may get up now, Mrs Lennan. You’re all done. Please don’t remove the tape for twenty-four hours or get it wet. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand. Can I go now?”
The small man, whose name she didn’t know, studied her face carefully. Then he smiled as if satisfied. “You look fine, so yes, you may go.”
Janux didn’t say thank you. She hated his smile and hated everything about the H-government workers. They all looked smug and self-righteous and thought they were better than everyone else. She felt like screaming.
When she reached the reception area it was empty, except for the stern-looking woman behind the desk. Janux sat down to wait for Curtis to return. The woman looked at her for a moment, frowned and continued typing. Janux felt very alone. The back of her neck hurt and a tear ran down her face.
After about fifteen minutes Curtis came out. She noticed his pallor.
“Are you okay, Janux?” They both headed for the exit as he spoke.
“No, I’m not okay. My privacy and freedom have been invaded. We should have objected and refused to have it done.”
As they walked down the steps and back into the damp coldness of an early autumn day, Curtis put his arm around her shoulder. It had been raining and the wind was picking up. If only Curtis would agree with her.
“Do we want to end up in prison, eating nothing but the left-over scraps from the guards? That’s what happens in prison. Come on, let’s go to my place and I’ll cook us something nice. I want you to write up a report on your interview with Uxxl and we can discuss it tomorrow. Did it go well?”
“Yes. I’ve taken heaps of notes. He’s not in such good shape though – from the blood-sickness, I guess, after his soon-to-be-Wife-Number-Two was killed. I asked Zelene a few questions too.”
Curtis stopped and stared at her. “Well done, Trainee Assistant.”
“Hey, we’re not working right now. Let’s forget my title for a while.”
He took her hand as they walked. “All right, my darling.”
CHAPTER 7
Janux now often heard static in her mind. Sometimes after she and Curtis had a telepathic conversation she encountered a low humming sensation, which on occasion had grown louder before fading away. At other times, when resting
or just waking in the morning, she thought she heard faint murmurs or whispers in her mind.
She knew two things. First, the message sender or senders were female because of the distinct flowing quality of the sounds, and secondly that she wasn’t the only Ryxin woman who was capable of sending a message in this way. Ma Keoghan had confirmed that for her. And she knew that the others, like her, would have kept this information secret, perhaps their whole lives. All the same she had to find out, though she would have to be careful – just as whoever was apparently trying to communicate with her was being careful. Not that there was any way of knowing for sure if that was what they were trying to do.
It could be a trick to fool her and then she’d be brought before the Ryxin pure-blood authority who would give her a one-day mock-up trial, her crime being that she was considered an aberration and could not be tolerated. Even if she assured them she would never have children so the gene could never be passed on they would take no notice. The rule had been made a long time ago and never changed. Aberrations were considered an abomination and must not be allowed to live. The very next day she would be vanished, probably out over the sea like so many before her, to drown in the Pacific Ocean and then be eaten by fish.
While in Ireland, Janux had told her father how Curtis had levitated Sly Onyx up over the sea at Chamonix Beach when Sly threatened to rape her. At the time she’d wanted more than anything for Curtis to let Sly to fall into the sea and drown but he’d refused, telling her such an act would shorten his own life. She hadn’t known why.
“Why would that happen, Dad? Please tell me, when Sly was the one in the wrong?”
That was when her father had taken her to see Ma Keoghan, a ninety-five-year-old Irish-woman who was a pure-blood Ryxin. She lived in a small grey-stone cottage with a thatched roof. The house was surrounded by a stone wall with a rickety wooden gate.
Janux had to lean close to hear Ma Keoghan’s words. The old woman was weak and fragile, with a craggy face framed by thin, wispy white hair. A faint scent of lavender filled the air as she struggled to speak.
“This legend was told to me by my mother, Garxie, you understand, dear. She’d been ordered to marry Iggy Tretze 1st. My father, Iggy, and my mother, Garxie, had both come to Earth on the first spaceship. They had five daughters and I was the youngest, dear.
“I was only fourteen when I married Rogan Logopex. He was twenty-five, dear. But Rogan loved his whisky, you know. He’d come home drunk every night and expect me to have his dinner hot and ready to be eaten, no matter what time it was. Can you come closer to me?” the old lady whispered, beckoning Janux. “We don’t want anyone to hear what we’re discussing, do we, dear?”
She edged close to Ma who was semi-reclined on the couch and covered by a sheep-wool blanket. They’d deliberately chosen a time when the housekeeper was away shopping but she was due back soon to make the old woman’s lunch.
“Did you have any children, Ma?”
“No, dear, you see my father came round to teach Rogan a lesson. He’d knocked me out and broken my arm. But after my father beat Rogan senseless, he never regained consciousness. Rogan was in a coma for weeks and then he died. Dad wasn’t held to blame as the police accepted his story of self-defence. I was only fifteen by then and my father took me back home to live with him and my ma. Later on, when I was twenty, I met Leo Keoghan and he was such a kind man. We married but never had any children, dear.”
Janux was getting impatient. She wanted to ask Ma about the telepathy gene. The old lady had begun to cough and Janux passed her a glass of water. “Please tell me about the telepathy gene, Ma. I very much need to know.”
“I was waiting for you to ask me, Janux Lennan. I know all about your gift, my dear. It was also inherited by you through a direct line to my mother, Garxie. We’re distantly related. Your father should have told you more.”
Janux was astonished. “Dad wanted me to blend in, Ma. He was afraid for me. He always told me never to tell anyone about it. So I didn’t.” Janux felt privileged at what Ma Keoghan had told her.
“Did he also tell you that the telepathic power of women is different than that of men? Did he tell you we can programme our abilities so that only the person we’re sending the message to can hear it?”
“No, he didn’t tell me that,” Janux said. “I assumed we all had the same powers.”
Ma Keoghan’s eyes took on a glassy look. “One of the Ryxin Queens from long ago ordered the geneticists to give women this special power and deny it to men. She saw how controlled Ryxin women were, dear. She wanted to give them something to have as a way of regaining some power for themselves.”
Janux now understood why King Dymon had hated the telepathic powers Ryxin women had – why he’d banned it from future generations of women to disempower them. “That explains the fear Ryxin men have of us,” she said.
“And why they’re jealous too,” Ma Keoghan said in a quiet voice.
Janux watched Ma’s face. Slowly it changed and she looked Janux in the eyes with an intense expression. “The time is drawing near, child. Evil is all around us and I have to warn you. You must take great care, even more than you ever did in your life. There is a man known as The Controller. I’ve heard rumours the like of which I…”
“Yes, Ma, what rumours?” Janux was yearning for the old woman to continue. But she seemed in doubt as to what to disclose to Janux.
“I must warn you to be careful who you tell about the legend,” the old lady whispered. “Even now there are those who are loyal to the king and still agree with what he did.”
Then she told Janux a story from the planet, Ryxin, around the time Queen Ryxina 1st died and her son became king. For generations women had used their special telepathic powers to help each other avoid punishments and cruelty from the dominating males, and the men hated them for it. Men could send messages too, but theirs were like radio waves, so the messages were picked up by those they were not intended for.
When the prince became King Dymon 3rd everyone, except his allies, feared their days of bliss were about to end. Dymon wasn’t liked or respected because he was known to be bad-tempered, cruel, childish and spoilt. So it was no surprise that his very first law change concerned the disempowering of women. The new king deemed it was unnecessary and unsuitable for female Ryxins to have the telepathy-gene and summoned the geneticists to a special meeting. Afterwards a proclamation announcing a new law was issued by the king. Genetic changes were to begin immediately so that females would no longer be able to communicate telepathically in any way. He had watched how his mother, the queen, could summon other important woman to her side, simply by sending them individual mind messages, and he hated that women had such power.
Males were henceforth the only Ryxins to have that privilege. All women, including pregnant women, throughout Ryxin were therefore ordered to attend their nearest gene clinic. The eradication of the telepathy-gene was a simple procedure that must now be performed even on a foetus, once it was confirmed to be female. It posed no risk to the pregnancy, the proclamation stated. To refuse to comply was considered treason and both parents would be charged accordingly.
“But we’re on Earth now, Ma. Shouldn’t it be different here?”
“Shh, I must tell you what happened after the law was passed,” the old woman replied, her eyes only half-open now as she fought the fatigue of the elderly.
Since that day Janux had thought a lot about what Ma Keoghan had told her concerning the secret revenge Queen Ryxina 1st had planned to be carried out after her death. The Queen had already known of the law her son was planning to pass once she’d died. He’d told her about it often enough when he was in one of his many rages and temper tantrums.
So before her death the queen had confided in certain trusted female relatives – a sister and a niece, plus three young and trustworthy female loyalists. She told them she’d arranged for their documents to say they’d already been to a gene clinic and had the banned gene removed as t
hey would be ordered to once her son was made king.
To this end the Queen had also had a secret meeting with a female geneticist whom she trusted implicitly not to let her down. The geneticist agreed enthusiastically to carry out the queen’s request. Misogyny was something Prince Dymon was known for and the women of Ryxin had plenty to fear.
The geneticist helped to ensure that all female descendants of these women would still have the telepathy gene, just as it used to be for all women, and that any male babies they had would become carriers and pass it on to their female offspring. But females who had the gene must vow never to disclose their forbidden power. King Dymon would eradicate them just like he would any stray mice or insects that dared to inhabit his household.
CHAPTER 8
It was a chilly autumn day and Janux hauled out Roscoe’s old Vespa motor-scooter from the shed at the back of the bach. There was still petrol in the tank and it started okay so she decided she’d travel to The Base that way.
Today she was to meet with Curtis and discuss the report of her interview with Uxxl Aogan. They sat in his study and went through it together. This was the first of three interviews she must conduct on her own with a witness, suspect or anyone who knew the victim and might have vital information that could assist in solving the case.
“Is Uxxl a suspect?” she’d asked Curtis. “Because I believed what he told me, you know. I don’t think he could have harmed the woman he loved.”
“Your report is very thorough and revealing and throws a new light on what really happened, but right now we’ll continue to investigate everyone. You’ve done well, Janux.” He leaned back in his chair. “I’ve been instructed to keep the island branch of the RJD posted on what we’re doing. They have a small, home-based office on the west coast, but when necessary can call in reinforcements from the mainland – so they can give us backup if we need it. I’ll be feeding them information by phone from time to time.”
“Does a copy of my report go to the island office?”
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