‘Slow down, Jocasta,’ her mother instructed. ‘And fetch us all a drink so that we can relax a little and discuss this proposal.’
‘But it’s only two weeks till the end of term, Mama, how on earth can I relax?’ Jocasta squealed. ‘I’ve got this life changing decision to make and you’re asking me to RELAX! Relax?’
‘You’re quite right, Jocasta,’ intervened Dhan. ‘But at least try to sit down so that we can discuss this decision. All this spinning reminds me of an out of control satellite, you must be getting dizzy. And you’re making me feel nauseous.’
‘No, that’s just your age!’ teased Jocasta, coming to a standstill at last. ‘I’ve heard it can affect your blood pressure when you learn that your eldest child is going on the biggest adventure of her life!’
‘So you’ve definitely decided to leave us?’ said her father, with a twinkle in his eye. ‘Think my blood pressure might go sky high, just like your trip, if I’ve got to take out a loan to pay for all the expensive Elite equipment you’ll no doubt be needing.’
‘Will they really make you pay for all of it?’ gasped Jocasta, trying quickly to do some additions in her head.
‘Don’t be silly.’ Evie placed a hand on Jocasta’s shoulder and guided her to one of the window seats and sat her firmly down. ‘And even if we do have to pay towards it, I really think it’s an opportunity much too important to turn down. I do wish however, you would start acting your age and remove your I.D. ring from the middle of your nose. It looks so unattractive. How many times have I asked you to place it where it should belong?’ And she shook her left index finger under Jocasta’s nose. ‘That was the condition after all, of allowing you to have that so called fashionable tattoo punctured onto your face.’
Jocasta decided to ignore her mother’s nagging and sank into the warm, cosy seat, looking towards her father for allegiance. He just smiled in reply.
‘What do you think Imogen will say?’ she asked him, imagining that her younger sister would be just a little jealous of her achievement.
‘Oh, Imogen will be just fine,’ Evie replied, carefully crossing her legs and placing her hands around her knees. ‘It’ll give her another challenge; to see if she can be invited to join the Elite at a younger age than you.’ They laughed at this remark as Imogen never liked to be second at anything; she was highly competitive, very intelligent and had decided at a very young age that she was going to explore the universe and discover whole new solar systems and be the first to discover other civilisations. At just twelve years old she had already been on several trips to the Moon and various satellite stations and even once, won first prize in a global competition and visited the Earth Elite Headquarters at Delhi. An event she would inevitably remind Jocasta about when she heard her exciting news.
Oh yes, Jocasta might be going to Mars at fourteen years old, but Imogen had won a global competition at ten.
‘When should we tell Mr Stratton?’ Jocasta asked her parents. ‘Or do we just find Officer Delaney and inform her?’
‘Why don’t you check out that greencode pin with your mother and I’ll go in search of Mr Stratton,’ said Dhan. ‘I’ve got a feeling he’d rather not entertain us all again, after the talking down he received from your mother.’
‘I was only pointing out the facts,’ retorted Evie. ‘The stupid man should have done his research.’
‘Quite, quite…’ Dhan quickly hurried off in the direction of the head’s office, knowing that it would be pointless to try and say anything in defence of anyone that his wife considered a fool.
Jocasta approached one of the link junctions on the wall and sat down at a nearby screen so that she could view the pin’s information. A CGI face smiled welcomingly from the wall. ‘Welcome to the Elite Home Page, my name is MICA. Please enter your personal digital number and right thumb recognition so that we may proceed.’
She quickly typed in her 14 digit ID number: each earthborn baby was issued with a personal number at birth, usually five letters, followed by 14 digits. The letters related to the place of birth, while the numbers were randomly chosen by computer. Jocasta had learnt hers at a very young age; probably because Evie had recited it to her, without fail, every morning at breakfast and again last thing at night; and directly she could talk Jocasta would be made to repeat it back again to her mother. Jocasta sometimes wondered that if her friends had been subject to the same treatment they might be rather better at recalling theirs’, and not suffer the indignity of the frequent visits to the security office to retrieve their personal information.
‘Clearance given.’ The face of MICA positively beamed back at her. ‘I hope you are well today Jocasta Jackson, how can I assist you? Do you require further information?’ The voice had a strange kind of lilt to it, rather unusual for computer generated speech patterns, which were often very formal.
‘Well…’ Jocasta began, but before she was able to continue with her question a rather forceful presence burst into the room. Imogen almost collided with her mother as she skidded to a standstill, her eyes gleaming and face flushed with exertion.
‘Is it true?’ she exclaimed, her voice sounding strangely high pitched as she tried to control her excitement. ‘Is Jocasta really going to join the Elite? Is she really going to Mars?’
‘I think, Imogen,’ Evie answered, placing a restraining hand on her younger daughter’s arm, to stop her jumping up and down, ‘that you’d better ask your sister; after all she’s the only one who can answer that question.’
Imogen turned to Jocasta, her eyes bright with anticipation. ‘Are you going Jocasta, have you been chosen for the great Elite?’
‘Well they’ve offered me a place, but I really don’t know if I can accept such an honour…’ Jocasta’s voice trembled as she struggled to remain deadpan. ‘After all, how I can possibly bear to leave my little sister?’
It took Imogen a few seconds to realise her sister was just teasing her and then she let out a squeal of indignation, which made the chimes hanging at the windows echo with a reverberating hum.
‘Oh I’m so jealous!’ she wailed. ‘I do so wish it was me. Of course I’m really pleased for you,’ she added quickly, recognising the look on her mother’s face and guessed it would be a reprimand for not congratulating her sister first.
‘Come along girls,’ their mother spoke softly, glancing at the time display on the consol. ‘Is there somewhere we can go that’s a little more private? I’ve a feeling your Planet Room is going to be overtaken by hoards of excited students soon.’
‘Yes we can go to my room,’ Jocasta replied. ‘It’s quicker if we leave through this door.’ She turned and headed towards the far end of the room. ‘We can take the lift to the top floor,’ she explained, seeing her mother’s questioning look. ‘And then back track down the service stairs.’
Their footsteps echoed noisily on the sharp, metal floor and Imogen complained loudly how much she disliked the clinical smell that always seemed to permeate the service areas. It was eerily quiet as the morning staff had finished their routines for the day and the afternoon staff had yet to start. The academy had a large complement of workers who contributed to the smooth running of the establishment, where Jocasta and Imogen boarded during the week.
Jocasta’s room was tiny, but much to the envy of most of her friends, she was the sole occupant and had an exquisite view of the gardens and estuary from the rather oversized window, which dominated one wall. On clear nights Jocasta liked to leave the curtains drawn back and lie in her bed gazing at the stars. That night Jocasta tossed and turned in her bed, unable to sleep as the events of the day kept replaying in her mind and the knot of excitement in her stomach refused to let her rest. Most of her friends had been pleased for her, although there had been one or two sarcastic remarks from those who felt they were better qualified to train with the Elite. Jocasta had done her best to ignore them, although a small, persistent voice kept echoing their remarks and making her doubt herself.
Sh
e wasn’t the quickest mind in the school, she admitted that, but then why had the Elite chosen her? Didn’t they realise there were cleverer students? And then she would scornfully remind herself that this was the Elite, and the Elite didn’t make mistakes. Of course they didn’t.
The best news, though, had been about one of her best friends, David, who had also been selected to join the Elite. So he and Jocasta would be making their epic journey together. She had to admit that she was rather relieved, as well as pleased about that. David was a studious boy with wayward, curly hair and slightly protruding eyes. He chose to wear glasses even though, after laser surgery, his eyes were perfectly fine; he told people that he felt the glasses improved his appearance; he’d even had special goggles made to wear in the swimming pool. Jocasta didn’t believe that they were strictly necessary for mere aesthetic improvement, but obviously he did.
He and Jocasta had been friends from their first day at the academy when the other children had teased him about his spectacles and Jocasta had whispered in his ear not to take any notice because everyone else was just jealous of him. Not that anyone could be unjustly jealous of David today, Jocasta thought, as everyone, yes everyone, had predicted that he would be on his way to Mars: after all, he had the best intelligence rating of the whole school.
I wonder who else is going to be travelling to Mars with us, Jocasta thought to herself before she drifted off, at last, into a fitful sleep. She wouldn’t have long to wait as around the world other students had been thrown the challenge of joining the Elite; to change their lives for ever and travel to Mars to train to be the force of the future.
*
Bleep, bleep…..bleep, bleep. The insistent noise wouldn’t go away. Bleep…bleep.. Jocasta reached a languid arm out to the search for her wrist com buried under a pile of clothes on the floor next to her bed and sleepily gazed at the incoming message. Within an instant she was sat to attention in her bed rubbing the sleepy dust from her eyes and staring at the message before her.
INCOMING TRANSMISSION FROM ELITE CADET CONTROL
Insert authorisation code for clearance. Incorrect code will result in deletion.
It took Jocasta several seconds to recall the greenpin code and nervously punch it onto her wrist com. She waited anxiously while the message downloaded.
ELITE COMMUNICATION FROM CADET CORPS
TO JOCASTA JACKSON
Confirmed and verified Code KW 54
AUTHORISATION PASSED
CADET JACKSON TO JOIN ELITE CONVOY TO BAIKONUR SPACE CENTRE
DEPARTURE: WOODSIDE STATION
DATE: 25/05/45
TIME: 10.00 HRS
CADET NUMBER: JJ7554 AC
INTELLIGENCE RATING: LEVEL 2X
PHYSICAL RATING: HIGH 65
ABILITY: UNKNOWN
RANKING: UNPLACED
Jocasta stomach took a dive and her mouth suddenly became very dry. Okay, she’d got her authorisation, but what did all the other stuff mean – intelligence rating; level 2X? That didn’t look too special and neither did the physical one, but at least it had the word ‘high’ in it. What really bothered her was the ability and ranking remarks. If they were unknown and unplaced what did that mean? She had a feeling this was one aspect of the communication she wasn’t going to share with anyone: not even David. She was somehow sure that his would be at the top of the scale and as much as she liked him, this was a comparison she would rather not know about.
Chapter Three
The next two weeks passed by in a blur of activity. Jocasta had so much to do and a great deal to learn – though she barely had a spare minute to sit and try to analyse everything she was supposed to be achieving. MICA became a familiar, friendly face: even if it was a computer generated one. Jocasta found it was easier asking a smiling, unbiased animated computer person, rather than an officer of the Elite all the personal stuff that she needed to know. Things like sharing a room; did they get free time, and when were they allowed to wear their own clothes. Somehow she couldn’t imagine walking around the Elite’s cities on Mars dressed in old jeans and a faded t-shirt. She couldn’t picture her trainers even existing under the Biodomes; the two just didn’t seem to belong in the same dimension.
Also, she made it a priority to discover if they would have access to the newly developed film and entertainment uplink that she had just discovered on the Vanta channel.
MICA did her best to answer these important questions. Jocasta was convinced that she was female by the way she phrased her answers; although she had to admit that David was right when he pointed out that MICA’s features might be interpreted as androgynous. There were also seemingly endless tests that had to be carried out, just to make sure they would be able to cope with the long space flights and the restricted conditions on Mars.
Jocasta’s immediate problem, next to her worries about the Elite message and its referral to her ability and ranking, was trying to decide which of her belongings to take with her on the journey. Each cadet was restricted to a limited weight allowance for their personal baggage, and she stared in dismay at the ever growing pile of clothes, books, semi precious gems and small collection of well worn cuddly toys that lay on the floor next to her bed. She’d already been informed that under no circumstances would she be allowed to take a musical instrument, not even a tin whistle or recorder, so she rightly guessed that her saxophone was out of the question. Someone had speculated that one of the Martian Cities supported a full performing orchestra and students were occasionally allowed to practice with them. Whether this was a human or robotic group she had been unable to find out. Of course books and music were no problem, as every book or piece of music ever written was stored on data stix and could be transposed and restored at the press of a button.
Jocasta sighed as she moved several items to the ‘not needed’ pile and for a moment wondered if she was really doing the right thing. The only person she would really know on Mars was David and life would be so completely different living under Biodomes, she wouldn’t see her family for at least two years, probably longer. Also, while being an Elite trainee was certainly prestigious, it was by all accounts quite a tough life. She’d heard rumours of harsh punishments for students who didn’t follow the rules and Will had told them that the food was bland and boring. Although, as David had pointed out, food was the first, and possibly the only thing Will really cared about, and he and Jocasta would have far more important things on their minds.
‘Oh, like Elite Academy lessons and trips around the Biodomes, thrilling,’ Will had teased, as if being left behind didn’t bother him at all.
She remembered his reaction when he’d found out that she and David had been ‘enlisted’ as he put it. She and David had tried hard to suppress their excitement while Will had reminded them that he’d never expected to be chosen anyway.
‘I’ve been in far too many scrapes, in my time,’ he’d reminded them. ‘And hey, I’m sure I’ll have more fun left here at Woodbridge than I would cooped up on some space liner, sharing my personal space with heaps of other trainees.’
‘Yuck,’ answered David with a worried expression on his face. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’
‘Yep.’ Will continued smirking at Jocasta. ‘All that farting and belching. It’ll be quite an experience for your delicate nature.’
She gave him a playful slap in reply.
‘Mind you, I do hope to get there someday.’ His voice became quieter and more serious. ‘You guys know that’s where my mum died. And I’ve never been able to find out how or why. Dad refuses to talk about it and there’s no-one else who’s been willing to help me find out. Perhaps you’ll be able to make some headway for me.’
‘Not sure about that, Will,’ Jocasta reluctantly answered. ‘Can’t see the Elite exactly letting us snoop around, asking questions.’
‘I’m not asking you to snoop around,’ he snapped back. ‘Just if anything turns up…’
‘Yep, sure thing,’ David had intervened
. ‘We’ll bear it in mind.’
And Will had seemed satisfied with that, much to Jocasta’s relief. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to help. It was just that she couldn’t see what they’d be able to find out. By all accounts Will’s mother had disappeared in mysterious circumstances and no body had ever been found. Will had always believed that there’d been a cover up, but as he’d only been a toddler at the time, she wasn’t sure exactly how his conspiracy theory had taken shape.
Jocasta sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to recapture the feeling of elation that she’d experienced on that first day when Officer Delaney had told her she’d been chosen. Oh, what an honour for the academy and her family. She had felt proud then and so special, but now she realised how small and insignificant she really was, just a tiny part of a universal organisation. The enormity of her decision began to weigh heavily on her mind and a fear of letting her family and friends down if she didn’t succeed began to take hold.
Besides, she couldn’t think of any discernable reason why the Elite would have chosen her. For all her mother’s fierce maternal pride of Jocasta and her abilities as a potential cadet: had Mr. Stratton had been right? She remembered the Meyer triplets, who’d been recruited from the Academy – and it was obvious why they had been chosen, they were easily three of the best minds that Woodbridge had ever taught. A little difficult to control at times, by all accounts, but there was no denying that they had each excelled academically far further than Jocasta had.
But this is no good, she told herself, I’ve made my decision and I’ll just have to do my best. No one can ask more than that; after all, I must have proven myself to somebody to get this far.
And with a greater sense of determination she returned to her packing.
At last, most of her possessions were organised into two fairly neat piles. One extremely large: the items that had to stay behind, and the other a tidy little pile which represented her most precious items. Now she turned her attention to her gemstones. She had studied geology in one of her previous years, and though not every type of rock was a source of marvel for her, she couldn’t deny that the semi-precious stones she had begun collecting had become treasures for her. She placed them, one at a time, carefully in the palm of her hand turning each one over and over trying to determine which ones to take. Finally she picked three of her favourites. Agate, for luck, black onyx for safety, and a tiny, precious sapphire for intellect. Luckily they were all quite small and she predicted that they wouldn’t put her over the weight allowance.
Deborah Hockney Page 2