by Teri Terry
‘What is it? What’s going on?’ Melrose says.
One of her friends comes over to us. Her eyes are red.
‘I can’t believe it, I just can’t. She was there just this morning, and – and—’ Her words catch.
‘Who? What’s happened?’ Melrose says.
Another girl looks up. ‘It’s Jezzamine. She’s died in a car accident.’
16
Jezzamine is the talk of school Monday morning before class. She wasn’t universally liked but everybody knew her, and she was a presence. It is as if something immutable has been taken from the landscape. Like when Jason described the skyline of London with the dome of St Paul’s Cathedral missing.
The midnight party ended soon after we arrived, but not before curious eyes noted I was there. It twists weirdly inside that the one person who’d have been in my face about it – Jezzamine – isn’t here. Like a ghostly echo, half-heard whispers of others follow me down the hall.
Even Goodwin seems saddened by the news about Jezzamine, but that doesn’t stop her from dragging me into her office just as the bell goes for first class. And I’m nervous she’s heard about me plugging in. That someone told her, and she’ll be at me now to leave the Refusers class.
‘So, dear Luna, how did the tests go?’
I stay silent. So, she doesn’t know; this is some other sport.
She smiles, a grin of pure evil even though her clown face and snakes are completely gone now from her red face. She must have spent the whole week scrubbing them off.
‘I can read you quite easily, you know,’ she says. ‘So transparent. Poor Luna. Don’t worry; if you didn’t pass the tests, we’ll find you something to do after graduation. I’m sure there are toilets somewhere that need cleaning. I’ll make it my personal mission to ensure you get a suitable work placement.’
I make myself smile widely. ‘Thank you so much! I really appreciate that. Should I go to class now, so I can learn as much as possible to prepare for my shiny new career in porcelain?’
Her smile slips a little, then comes back. ‘Ah, I will miss our chats. But have no fear: I’m sure your new career will crush the attitude out of you in no time. Now, go.’
Out in the now silent hallway I pass the doors to the PIPs where Melrose and all the others will be plugged in by now. Hex, too, his exclusion having been lifted at last. I wonder what virtual school is like? There is some part of me that wants to find out. There is more that doesn’t. If Hex can make me see and feel things that aren’t there so easily, who knows what PareCo educational programmes do? Even Implants have more effect than I ever realised.
Rachel smiles when I sit next to her in class. After all that has happened in a week, it feels like aeons since I’ve been in this classroom. Counting down the minutes, and wishing I was somewhere – anywhere – else.
The test results are out tonight. Is there any chance of escape? Some little part hopes, inside.
As arranged, I’ve plugged in, and am with Melrose and Hex in Melrose’s space. Waiting for the results. The second they’re released he’s hacked the list onto a virtual wall. Not paper, nothing as normal as that. It is like a thin screen, names in green for passed, red for failed. Details follow of placements.
Melrose finds her name first. ‘I passed! And I’m going to London University!’
Then Hex whoops. ‘Oh my God! Think Tank for me.’
And they’re scanning down the list, all the names, noting how friends have done. No Luna Iverson.
‘Maybe they forgot me?’ I say, almost hopefully. Neither a pass nor a fail; somehow I’m OK with vanishing.
‘No. Wait – you’re last,’ Hex says. ‘There you are.’
I can’t look; can’t make myself. They’re both silent. I finally turn and meet their eyes. Despite having taken the recommended two ANDs and a spare, just in case, my stomach is churning. But they’re smiling?
‘Did I pass?’
‘Look for yourself. Look, Luna.’ I follow Melrose’s finger to the pulsing entry.
Luna Iverson: in green. ‘I passed!’
‘That’s not all,’ Melrose says.
‘I really can’t believe this.’ Hex is shaking his head.
‘What?’ I focus back on the screen. Placement: Think Tank. ‘What does that mean?’
‘You don’t know? It’s like the top-notch best possible amazeballs with awesome sauce PareCo ultimate: off solving the problems of the world on some tropical island or something. Awesome benefits, pay, the works. I don’t get how you got it.’
‘Gee, thanks. But neither do I.’
‘Will you be together?’ Melrose finally registers that we’re going away, and she isn’t. ‘Where is it?’
Hex does something weird with his hands, and calls up an information screen. He reads it out: ‘Think Tank placements – report for transport to Heathrow in seven days’ time to begin journey to Inaccessible Island. Prepare for an extended time away. Clothes and essentials will be provided.’
‘Is there seriously a place called Inaccessible Island?’ I say. ‘Where is it?’
More hand waving, and a world map appears around us. A pulsing light marks an island in the middle of nowhere.
‘It’s like fifteen hundred miles from the coast of South Africa,’ Hex says. ‘Other than a few uninhabited islands, nothing else is closer.’
‘Why so isolated?’ I ask. ‘What is PareCo hiding away there?’
‘Don’t be a dys.’ Hex scans info tracks on Inaccessible Island, then looks up. ‘It’s because it’s a world heritage site, so it’s neutral. Not part of any country, so none have control or influence over PareCo.’
‘Just fifteen hundred miles from SA, is that all? So I can come and visit on weekends, then.’ Melrose’s eyes are filling up.
I stand up. ‘Three’s a crowd; I’m going. Bye.’ I’m not sure they even notice, doing the girl crying/boy comforting thing, murmuring that they can always meet in Realtime. I back out of Melrose’s space and go through the door. It shuts behind me and I stand in my hallway, stunned.
Did Rafferty pull off my needed miracle, and somehow get them to accept my reason for breaking the rules with the RQ test? Was it my high IQ result that got me this placement? What on earth is a Think Tank?
Distracted, I pace up and down my hallway. Absently hit ‘no’ to an Astra Remembered club as I pass a pulsing invitation; a door disappears. I lean on the wall.
A flicker above catches my eye. I look up. A silver line is moving across the ceiling; it becomes a square. The square solidifies into something that swings down, leaving an opening to a space above. A ladder drops through it.
What the hell?
I’m peering into the shadows above when feet appear, and someone starts climbing down the ladder. I jump back.
‘Gecko?’
‘Luna!’ He grins and reaches to give me a hug, but I pull back, startled, freaked out and a little annoyed.
‘How’d you do that?’
‘The hatch and ladder? S’hacking one-oh-one.’
‘Shacking?’
‘Sorry: silver hacking. Easier to say as S’hacking. Just like silver Hackers are S’hackers.’
‘But how can you get into my hall without an invitation from me? It’s against all the rules of Realtime.’
‘But I sent you one.’ He grins, and gestures at the wall where I’d nixed the Astra group invite moments ago.
‘That was you?’
‘Yep. I didn’t expect you to accept it, though it would have made things easier; I just used it to trace where you were when you rejected it.’
‘Sure. I see.’ So Gecko is in Astra Remembered: he really is a weird fan clubber like I suspected, isn’t he? But some part of me has still gone warm at all this effort just to see me. I smile.
/> ‘Aren’t you surprised to see me here?’ I say. ‘You know, given that I’m a Refuser and all.’
He grins back. ‘You tried the ANDs, right? I traced that you were plugged in last night, but couldn’t get a fix on location.’
‘So, now that you’ve tracked me down…?’
‘It’s time for an adventure.’
‘An adventure?’
‘This way,’ he says, and starts climbing back up the ladder. He looks back when I don’t follow. ‘Come on: escape with me for a while.’
Sounds good to me.
17
At the top of the ladder is darkness and nothing, and lots of both.
‘What is this place?’ I ask as I step from the ladder, and stare around me. Not complete darkness, after all: as my eyes adjust, pinpoints of light whistle past in all directions, adding to the sense of vastness of the space where we stand. My hair whips around, first one way, then another, as we’re buffeted by strange winds, without pattern – up, down, from one side, then another.
‘This is the virtual void. It is what all virtual spaces and worlds are made from.’
The darkness intensifies, and I spin round: the hatch and ladder are gone.
‘Whoa. How do we get back down from here?’
‘Don’t worry. I can make another exit when you need it.’
There is a vague sense of rising panic inside mixed with excitement, and I involuntarily step closer to Gecko. He grins. Takes my hand. ‘Stay close,’ he says.
‘Why?’ I say, and peer all around for danger.
‘The void is a big place. If you get lost, I could look for you forever and never find you.’
‘Getting lost sounds like an adventure, but one I could do without.’
He laughs. ‘Exactly. We’ve got more interesting things to do. Come on.’ He tugs on my hand, and we start walking into the void.
I’m holding my hair with my free hand to keep it out of my eyes. Gecko notices, stops. Gathers my hair in his hands behind my head, lets go. It stays there. I touch the back of my head: it’s in a ponytail, a clasp around it.
‘Neat trick,’ I say, and we continue on. ‘Where are we going?’
‘It’s a surprise. A new world I’ve come across recently.’
‘How do you know the way?’
‘It’s one of my S’hacker things. I think about where I want to go, and see?’ He points ahead; some of the pinpoints of light are not so random. They’re forming a series of shadowy arrows.
‘How do you do that? Is it like how Hex can make furniture and stuff in Realtime?’
‘Hackers are different. They work in existing virtual worlds, and play with the world’s code; they’re all very logical and scientific. With S’hackers it is more like magic.’
‘Sure. If you don’t understand it well enough to explain it to me, fine.’
He laughs. ‘I do, it’s just not something we talk about it with outsiders. It’s hard to find words that will make sense. But I’ll try. It is logical and scientific too, but at a deeper instinctive level, so I’m not thinking code in my head even if that’s what I’m doing. It’s more like…well, how do you walk? Do you think about raising one foot, shifting your weight to step forward, keeping your balance, all that stuff? It’s more like that. I just kind of do it now, without consciously thinking of all that’s involved.’
‘When you were learning did you fall over all the time like when you were learning to walk?’
He laughs again; it’s a good sound – it is so silent here that it seems to fill my mind. ‘Very much so. I was dangerous. I made stuff accidentally sometimes from my nightmares, too – like snakes. I really hate snakes.’
‘Not any more though, right? As far as being dangerous goes. I mean, you know what you’re doing.’
‘Most of the time. Ah, here we are!’ He stops, and faint silver lines appear in front of us. They move across empty space to outline a rectangle, then silver spreads inside the lines to become a door.
He reaches for the door handle. ‘Ready?’
‘For what?’
He raises both eyebrows, says nothing. Holds the door open. I peer through. Bright sunlight. A lush green space: a high waterfall surrounded by tropical-looking plants. A gleaming turquoise pool under the waterfall.
‘Any snakes?’
‘No. I promise,’ he says. I step through, Gecko close behind me. Like at the beach party that wasn’t, there’s an instant wardrobe change: a bikini? The pool beckons, and it’s hot.
But this suit is way too skimpy to swim in without risk of swimming out of it, and Gecko is grinning at me in it in a way that says he knows it, standing there safe in his respectable swim shorts.
‘Why don’t you cool off a bit,’ I say, and give him a push; he splashes into the pool, and starts swimming across to the waterfall. I wish my suit was more like the one-piece I had at the school beach party, and suddenly, it is.
I dive in after him, and follow him to the other side.
‘Check this out,’ he says, and pulls himself out of the pool. He climbs steps along the side of the waterfall to the top, waves, and dives: straight through the centre of the waterfall.
My stomach lurches as he hurtles down. But he slows as he nears the bottom of the waterfall, then leisurely splashes into the pool. ‘It’s anti-grav,’ he says. ‘Pretty much impossible to hurt yourself here, anyhow. It’s good fun: try it.’
I go up the stone steps, stand at the top of the waterfall. Hesitate. It is so high: what – ten metres? Rocks to the sides, at the bottom. They look hurty. But this is virtual. Even if the anti-grav fails, I’ll be all right. Won’t I?
‘Go on. It’s a blast,’ Gecko calls up.
I step off the rock above the waterfall into the water. It swirls all around me as I plummet down, in a rush of fear and adrenaline – then slows as I near the pool, splash gently into it. I swim across to the steps: I’m doing that again. Soon I’m jumping as high as I can, and diving into the waterfall; Gecko is doing somersaults.
‘Were we gymnasts in another life?’ I ask him when we pause for a rest.
‘Taking fear away makes you go for it. But the world enhances your coordination and motor skills; it’s part of it.’
‘Damn. I thought it was me.’ I laugh. ‘This is seriously the most fun, ever. What is this place exactly?’
‘It’s like a holiday camp for the rich and famous. This is just one room; there’s deep sea diving, skiing, mountain climbing, everything you could think of, and all in infinite multiples so we can be on our own whichever we choose. Or, if you’d rather company, there are themed parties going on all the time.’
‘One problem with that. Last I checked we’re neither rich, nor famous. Why’d they let us in?’
‘Well. Most people buy a door in their Realtime hallway. We came in the back way; they don’t exactly know we’re here.’
My mouth hangs open. ‘We’re trespassing?’
‘I didn’t see any Keep Out signs. Did you?’
‘Well, no, but—’
‘Trust me. No one knows we’re here. Besides – they like S’hackers. We’re cheaper than PareCo if they want enhancements. Want to try skiing next? You’re guaranteed to be good at it here.’
I’m yawning, suddenly aware of the passage of time. ‘No, I don’t think so.’ And I’m tired; properly tired, to the bone. My body back in the PIP is aching as if it has been along for all the diving and swimming.
‘Are you nervous about getting arrested or something? I promise: we’re good.’
‘No. It’s not that. I just – I need to get back.’
‘OK. No problem,’ he says, disappointment lurking in his eyes, and I want to tell him why, but I can’t, can I? He’ll think I’m a freak.
He climbs out of the
pool, turns and offers me a hand. I take it, climb out. His eyes are dark, staring at me. I stand next to him, mouth suddenly dry. ‘What? Bad hair day, is that it?’ I say, and wring it out in my hands.
‘Your hair is fine. But wish it dry if you want to.’
‘Really? I can do that here?’
‘Give it a try.’
I wish for dry hair, and not just dry but loose about my shoulders, gorgeously styled and wavy and soft, as if I’d just spent hours at a hairdresser I could never afford.
And…it is.
He reaches out a hand, touches it. ‘Nice,’ he says, something serious and undefined in his eyes.
‘I could get used to this place. Maybe I should become rich and famous?’
‘Or maybe there is another way?’ He smiles as silver appears in the air in front of us, gradually solidifies, forms a door. We step through it into the void.
I’m back in my own clothes. It’s neither hot or cold in the void, but after the heat of the waterfall world I feel cold, goose bumps on my arms.
We walk silently. My hair is still loose but so soft I don’t mind it moving around my face in the strange winds of the void.
He stops. ‘Here we are,’ he says, and a silver square forms near our feet. When it is solid he pulls it open, and a silver ladder drops down. I turn back to Gecko.
‘Thanks for the adventure,’ I say, feeling suddenly shy. ‘It’s been fun.’
‘Before you go, I need your help with something,’ he says.
‘What’s that?’
‘I need to find Jezzamine Taylor from your school. For some reason her space is blocked. I’ve tried some invites to trace her, but she hasn’t responded.’
The warm feeling left from our adventure disappears. Jezzamine is – was – one of the most gorgeous girls in our school, no question. But, still: I somehow didn’t expect this of Gecko. Not any time, but especially not after today. Does he want to take her to the waterfall, too?
‘I can’t help you there,’ I say. I start down the ladder, and Gecko follows me into my hallway. I reach out back in my PIP, ready to unplug to get away.