Black & White

by Nick Wilford

  She lay down on her front and buried her face in the pillow, tears coming out but vapourising almost immediately. Welles’ friendship had taken her by surprise. She’d never felt like she had any true friends, and here was someone who felt like a kindred spirit, who shared her sense that things weren’t as they should be. Well, what had happened had proved that people like them were sure to fail.

  Sitting up, she realised she had to see Wellesbury. They couldn’t deny that, could they?

  *

  Wellesbury had his head over the waste vapouriser when the door opened, throwing his guts up. It was happening increasingly often now, but it was the first time someone else had seen it. He watched as the yellowy substance disintegrated into nothingness.

  “Noon?” said Kitson, with obvious distaste. “It’s time for your meeting with the Examiner.”

  Wellesbury wasn’t in a position to respond. He wanted to get this episode over with, then he could use what little strength he had left if he needed it. This was definitely the worst one yet. His hands gripped the sides of his stomach, rubbing the skin, where it felt like sharp needles were trying to stab their way out from inside.

  Up until a couple of days ago he’d never known the sensation of pain; now he was on intimate terms with it. Made it even harder to do this, but it was the only plan he had. Of course, it probably wouldn’t even work.

  The vomiting abated, and he straightened up and sanitised his hands. Not a lot of point – it was more for appearances’ sake. He nodded at Kitson, but didn’t make a move to follow him yet. The guard was standing with his arms crossed, tapping his feet, his face a mixture of horror, contempt and fascination.

  “Can I ask you something before we go?” said Wellesbury.

  Kitson sighed. “For what good it may do you.”

  “I know I’m going to see Tharl now, but do you think I would be allowed to go and see my friend Ezmerelda soon? I don’t see that anything’s happening to cure me, and she’s my best friend. Just wanted to... say goodbye. I’ll probably be dead in a couple of days.”

  A smirk played across Kitson’s lips. “You’re really melting my heart. But no can do, son. We’re trying to get you both rehabilitated into society, and any contact with each other is going to have a negative impact on that. Now come, the Examiner is waiting.”

  Okay, time for Plan B. Kitson was an oldish man, and although he had no health problems (of course), he looked as if his reactions were on the slow side. He had a large build, but didn’t look used to fighting. Fights were rare in this world, of course, as it was impossible to inflict pain or injury. Wellesbury just had to surprise Kitson enough to get a head start.

  He walked towards the guard, and Kitson turned to start heading out of the cell. Wellesbury fell into step beside him for a couple of paces, before bringing up the hand that he had balled into a fist at his side, and punched Kitson hard on the side of his face.

  The guard wheeled, but Wellesbury was already running down the corridor. Kitson followed, but although it was impossible for him to get tired, he couldn’t match the young man’s pace. Wellesbury heard him calling for help over the radio before he rounded the corner at the end, opting to go right. Just how big was this place? He had no idea. Maybe not that huge. How much was it needed, with most citizens staying meekly in line? There was no point shouting for Ezmerelda. The rooms were soundproofed, so she wouldn’t hear him even if he knew which room was hers and stood outside it. He didn’t slow down, though. This was his only shot, and though it seemed inevitable he would be caught and thrown back into his room to rot, he had to give it everything he had.

  He had lost count of the identical, featureless corridors he’d run down. And running was getting harder and harder. His guts felt like they were... on fire, like the fire he’d seen in the house at Fusterbury. That was the only comparison he had for the roaring pain. He didn’t want to, but he’d have to stop soon.

  And then he saw her. She turned the corner at the end of the corridor as he was nearing it, walking alongside her own guard. He redoubled his pace, grunting as his stomach protested and tried to deaden the nerves in his legs. She wasn’t far away, and it must have taken just a couple of seconds to get there, but he had time to see her face bloom into an expression of astonishment and glee, as if she was seeing the most miraculous thing ever.

  Her mouth hung open in the shape of an “O”. He didn’t even see the guard’s reaction, and at that point he didn’t care. He grabbed Ezmerelda by the shoulders, put his own mouth over hers, and their tongues touched. The sensation was amazing, and for a millisecond he forgot both the pain and the motivation behind what he was doing. The guard wrestled him away, but she needn’t have bothered; at the same time the disease kicked back with a vengeance, and he shrugged off the guard’s hands, putting his own on his knees and throwing up seemingly everything inside him. It vanished before it hit the floor.

  The sound of a door humming open and shut made him look up and glance about. Ezmerelda and her guard had gone, and he guessed her room was on this corridor, and she had just been coming back from her own meeting. It was possible she’d been on the way to it, but it was unlikely they’d schedule them both to start at the same time, to avoid the very scenario of their meeting.

  Wellesbury collapsed onto his back. He’d never known the sensation of tiredness until recently either, but now exhaustion hit him, blurring his vision like the fog he’d seen in Fusterbury. Kitson would be here soon to take him back to his room. No more meetings, probably. No more faces. They’d just let him die. At this point he couldn’t care less. He’d accomplished the mission he’d set out on, and experienced the sweetest fraction of a second of his life. Although of course the vomiting wouldn’t have been too attractive.

  Chapter 13

  Back in her room, Ezmerelda was led to her bed and sat down. Instead of leaving straight away as she normally did, the guard – a burly woman with black hair scraped severely back from her forehead – stood by the door with muscular arms folded.

  The shock wore off, and Ezmerelda started giggling uncontrollably. She glanced up to see the guard’s steely gaze, and put her hands up to her mouth to try to stop the laughter, succeeding only in producing a loud snort.

  “If you’ve quite finished,” said the guard, “have you any idea what that idiotic boy was doing?”

  “Kissing me,” she answered, and stifled another laugh. “And it was really good! I’ve never been kissed before. Have you?”

  The guard drew herself up to her full height. “And have you forgotten what he did afterwards?”

  The vomiting. Just like what she’d seen in Fusterbury... The whole thing had happened so fast that she hadn’t really taken it in. Her mirth disappeared. “No... He couldn’t have caught the disease? How is that possible? Our bodies can’t come to any harm.”

  The guard twitched one shoulder almost imperceptibly. “The demons must have compromised his defences. You had a lucky escape yourself. Clearly they’ve poisoned his mind too, because he tried to pass the infection on to you. But in our world, you’re perfectly safe.”

  There was a silence which only lasted a few seconds, but seemed to grow heavy very quickly. “What? Why would he do that? And did you know about this? I’ve been asking about him all the time, and the Examiner didn’t say anything!”

  “None of your business. Your own readjustment to normal society is what you should be concerned with. And for a smart girl, you’re remarkably slow on the uptake. One kiss and you’re falling all over the place.” The guard narrowed her eyes and sneered.

  “You’re not my mother. Although, come to think of it, my mother probably wouldn’t take so much of an interest. It’s not like she’s been to see me. Can you leave me alone now, please?”

  The guard turned. “One tip. If you want to get out of here faster, forget about that boy.” Ezmerelda rolled her eyes, and watched the guard leave the room.

  She sat hunched over on the edge of the bed, resting her chin on
her hands. Wellesbury had the disease? Well, surely they would be working on curing him, even if not Mallinger, who couldn’t have much time left if he was still here at all.

  So why did he kiss her? Was it to pass on the disease? Maybe it had possessed him in some way – he certainly looked as if he wasn’t in his right mind, but she felt the same being cooped up here. The people it had come from weren’t demons, she was still sure of that – maybe it was just how he reacted to it. He must have known he couldn’t pass it on here – but then again, they couldn’t really trust anything said by the authorities.

  That kiss, though! Despite herself, she couldn’t get it out of her mind. In the short time she’d known Wellesbury, she hadn’t thought of him as anything other than a friend. There was definitely an uncanny connection, but that was more to do with their shared dissatisfaction at the status quo. But that kiss had changed things, at least for her. In the middle of a bizarre and chaotic situation, it was like a moment of delicious stillness – short, sweet and tantalising.

  What came after was horrifying, though. It was like watching him reduced to – well, an animal. It had been strange enough seeing those things in Fusterbury. She wished with all her being that he survived – he was a good guy and didn’t deserve to die – but there was no way at all she would be allowed to see him when she got out of here.

  Ezmerelda lay down and tried to clear her mind for sleep. It wasn’t easy. There was so much to be angry about it felt like she was going to go crazy.

  *

  Early the next morning was when it started. She had been woken from a fitful sleep by what felt like someone trying to pull her stomach right out of her body. As a first taste of pain, it was a shock to the system, to say the least. At some point she’d ended up on the floor – maybe she’d tried to get up, or just fallen out of bed. And she’d been sick, just like Wellesbury and the others, but of course it had vapourised.

  She drifted in and out of consciousness until she vaguely registered being picked up and put back on the bed. Her eyes opened, seeing nothing but a fuzzy blur at first, until the face of her guard slowly swam into focus. Her expression seemed less fierce than normal. “H-hello,” she whispered.

  “You poor girl!” said the guard. “He infected you after all. How on earth did this happen?”

  Ezmerelda blinked. Now the pain had subsided, she had a chance to think. Was this Wellesbury’s plan after all? What had he done to her?

  “Listen,” she said. Speaking felt like a great effort. “You need to tell me, is there a cure? Are they curing Wellesbury?”

  “I told you, don’t think about him,” said the guard. “I’ll alert your father. He said he was to be told if anything drastic happens.”

  Really?

  “You should try and get some rest now. He’ll be here as soon as he can.”

  She nodded and fell back onto the bed. This was too much for her to process.

  “You don’t have to see the Examiner today. I’ll just go and, er, explain to her.”

  The guard left. Ezmerelda had been half-hoping she’d stay. Any company was better than none at the moment.

  She must have gone into another catatonic fug, because the next thing she knew, her father was standing over her.

  “My poor baby,” he murmured. “What have they done to you?”

  She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. She blinked at her father. Yes, it really was him. But these words of sympathy didn’t chime with the man she knew. Or the world she knew, for that matter.

  “I thought you didn’t care about me.”

  He looked at her wide-eyed, all open and caring. The image was incongruous. “My darling, what could have given you that idea?”

  Was this some sort of joke?

  “I can’t believe what’s happened to you,” he went on. “That boy, Wellesbury, is going to pay for what he’s done, and the government will make sure no demons can ever come here again, trying to destroy our lives.”

  “Father.” She tried to get her mind straight. This was a big moment which she didn’t feel at all ready for; it was like the direction of the future hinged on trying to convince him. “Do you really care about me? Do you love me?”

  He held his hands up. “Of course! I know I’ve not always shown it very well – always busy, you know, and I’m under a lot of pressure at work –”

  “It’s fine,” she said. “Okay, so if you love me, I want you to listen to what I have to say. What I believe. Take it in, and don’t just brush it aside. I think this is really important.”

  He nodded, but frowned, as if he was trying to work out a complicated geometric equation.

  She told him the story of everything she’d seen in Fusterbury, including the Monument of Bones and the little kids coughing their guts up. Occasionally, she was interrupted by her own hacking coughs.

  “I want you to help them,” she finished. “Just like there’s no disease here, couldn’t we do the same for them? Didn’t that happen in the Reforms?”

  “It isn’t the same,” said Dontible. “Ever wonder why nothing bad happens here, Ezmerelda? Of course you have; you’re sharper than most. There’s such a thing as crime; people taking things that belong to others, even taking each others’ lives. All the wicked people from our land were banished underground during the Reforms to live a miserable existence. The wonderful Reformers would not stoop to their level and kill them. Unfortunately they managed to immortalise themselves as demons, and they’ve been trying to get back here ever since. You’ve been told several times, but I’m going to have to tell you again. Everything you saw was an illusion. Do you understand? Because you won’t be released from here until they’re satisfied these ideas are out of your head.”

  Ezmerelda swallowed, trying to fight the spinning feeling inside her which might signal another crippling onslaught. On the other hand, an attack might be the best way to convince him. She wasn’t surprised at her father’s reaction; she was going to have to play this smart.

  “It does make a lot of sense,” she said, slowly. “I mean, just look at me.” She shuddered, and another coughing fit had her running for the vapouriser. Glancing at her father, she was pleased to note his look of abject horror. “I didn’t even pick up the disease down there, it was Wellesbury that passed it on...” She averted her eyes from her father’s gaze. Surely, he had been told what happened? “Why would he do that, if he wasn’t possessed somehow?” Yeah, she still did need that question answered. “So father, how are they going to help me? Can I be cured?”

  “My darling, I hope with every bone in my body that you can.” Dontible sniffed. “I’m going to have to ask my superiors, because this is an unprecedented situation. But it’s at a very early stage for you. If we can apply the technology that eradicated disease in the first place... You have to understand it’s not been used for a long time. But, my sweet!” He leaned forward as if about to hug her, but pulled back, perhaps because of the threat of the disease. “It looks like your mind is unpolluted so far. If fortune favours us, we can fix this before it gets any worse.”

  She managed a weak smile, playing along. Everything inside her told him he was faking to make himself look good. “So what about Wellesbury? It’s worse for him, clearly. You must have started work on curing him?” Although she desperately wanted news on Mallinger, too, it wasn’t the best time to ask.

  It might have been her imagination, but she could have sworn his eyes swam out of focus for a millisecond. “Of course,” he said. “A much more challenging case. But we can apply what we’ve learnt so far in your own treatment.”

  “So will the treatment take place here? It looks like Wellesbury’s still here, after all.”

  “Ah... yes, that’s right. Excessive transportation won’t do any good for your condition. This is a treatment centre, after all.” His eyes cast about the floor for a moment as if he’d dropped something, then he looked up and went on, “I hate to leave you like this, but I had better go and speak to those higher up and get th
e ball rolling with the treatment. And your mother hasn’t even been told yet. I’m sure she’ll be here to visit you later today.”

  “Any particular reason why she hasn’t visited up until now?” As soon as she said the words, she wanted to suck them straight back in. Play the game!

  He shrugged. “You know how health-conscious she is. I think she was worried about the disease even before we knew you had it. It doesn’t mean she’s not thinking about you every minute of every day.”

  Yeah, right.

  “Look, let me go and find out as much as I can. I’ll be back to let you know what’s happening. Take care, angel.” And he was gone.

  She lay back on her bed to think before the next attack started. What had been in Welles’s mind? She didn’t believe for a moment that he was possessed. He’d had a plan. She was ready to trust him a thousand times more than she was her father. He’d done his best to sound sincere, and she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but his eyes were just the same... cold and flat.

  She fell asleep, and was prodded awake some time later, which led to another vomiting attack. When that was done, she found herself looking at three people wearing unfamiliar green uniforms. It didn’t occur to her to wonder where her parents were.

  Chapter 14

  After leaving his daughter, Dontible made his way back to the waiting hovercar to begin the trip back to government HQ. Mentally he was wringing his hands. Developments would no doubt have made their way to Histender already, and he couldn’t help feeling he was going to be blamed for having a wayward daughter. But they would help her, of course, wouldn’t they? The child of an adviser? He didn’t allow himself to dwell on the possibility of it being otherwise.