by Nick Wilford
Travelling through the blank landscape always calmed his mind, but it wasn’t working today. The challenge was going to be getting her cured without her discovering any secrets, and he gulped at the prospect of facing Histender.
After being dropped outside his house, he went in and spoke briefly to his wife – not telling her anything about Ezmerelda, that could wait until he knew more; in any case, she didn’t ask – then made his way through the tunnel.
“Ah, Dontible. I knew you would come,” said Histender, after Dontible had been granted permission to enter the Leader’s presence. “I was awfully sorry to hear of events at the Centre. I take it you’re here to discuss your daughter?”
“That’s right, your Lordship.” Dontible folded his hands behind his back and focused on his usual spot. He’d never discussed personal matters in this office before.
“Let’s get everything out in the open, Dontible.” Histender leaned back to examine his employee, hands gripping the edge of his desk. “We fully intend to help Ezmerelda. I hope any thoughts to the contrary never crossed your mind. Not only because she’s related to a government official, though of course that’s reason enough; but the very future of this Government is riding on her.”
Dontible’s eyes flicked to the Leader wildly before he remembered himself and returned to his spot. “Lordship?”
“Your daughter is a very intelligent girl, with impeccable credentials. This government needs people able to think outside the box, unlike most of the drones out there. Unfortunately, Ezmerelda has shown that she is capable of being... led astray. But if her energies can be channelled in the right direction, she will make an excellent addition to our staff here. I’m due to retire in five years, Dontible; I’m almost eighty, and though I may not look it, I’m ready to put my feet up. I think Ezmerelda has the right stuff to be President!”
An uncharacteristic burst of pride surged within Dontible, but he managed to contain himself. “Err... thank you, Lordship. So, if I may be bold enough to ask, when will you be able to help her? The scientists mentioned in the meeting that it would take a lot of work.”
The issue of the unfortunate Wellesbury hung in the air between them, before Histender blew it away. “They are already on the case. Your daughter will have to be brought to their laboratories for the treatment, and in fact, she is already on the way. I’m aware that her rehabilitation is not complete, so she may have to be returned to the Centre. The scientists will work as quickly as they can, so you and your wife can rest easy, Dontible.” He smiled thinly at the adviser.
“Thank you, Lordship. I will now return to my duties.”
“Good man. Remember, don’t worry about a thing!” Histender called as Dontible left the office.
*
Ezmerelda was, indeed, at that very moment travelling from the Centre to the hidden underground labs of the government scientists. The same escort who had taken her to the Examiner was with her, as well as another woman. Although they obviously had no experience of dealing with sick people, Ezmerelda found it reassuring to have them on either side of her. The motion of the car was making her stomach heave in all directions, but luckily she wasn’t sick. It was so undignified in front of other people.
The journey seemed to be interminable, much longer than coming here. In fact the distance was slightly longer, because they didn’t enter via the city gates, but followed a road which skirted the high, impenetrable wall until they came to a large door. Well, she couldn’t have known it was a door until it opened. The car simply stopped at a particular section – as white and featureless as any other – and after they had been hovering for a few moments, some of the wall slid upwards and disappeared, allowing them to enter. They had essentially been swallowed up.
Ezmerelda looked out of the windows, trying to ignore the swirling in her guts. There were no lights in the tunnel; instead, the white of the walls and ceiling seemed to be luminescent, so it was almost as bright as the outside, which, with its lukewarm, hidden sun, was never that bright anyway.
They were going sharply downwards. This road must lead to all the government’s secret lairs, and she was going to find out as much as she possibly could.
Eventually they came to another door, this one more clearly visible, which slid open to each side as they approached. They entered what seemed to be a large carpark full of identical hovercars, all resting on the ground. The driver parked, lowered the car, and her escorts led her out with firm hands on her arms. What was she going to do, make a break for it? And go where?
She was led through a human-sized door and through corridors that looked just like the ones at the Centre. Every now and again someone passed her, and a couple of people gawked at her and pressed themselves against the wall as they went by. Clearly, they had heard about the young girl with the demonic disease.
At one point they walked through a larger, open area, which seemed to be some kind of relaxation lounge. People sat around on couches reading computer pads, or talking in small groups. The hubbub of chat ceased just after they entered, though, and she heard it pick up again after they left the space.
“They’re not really used to seeing kids here,” offered Ezmerelda’s original escort.
“Or maybe it’s because they think I’ve mutated into some deranged demon.” As if to hammer home the point, Ezmerelda stopped and doubled over, hands on her knees, as the first coughing attack since entering the Government building hit. Two middle-aged men passing by flattened themselves against the opposite wall, their faces drawn in horror.
Luckily, she didn’t bring anything up this time, but it took a few moments for the corridor to stop spinning after she straightened up.
The other woman patted her hand, her round, wrinkly face creasing into a smile. “There, there, dearie. This’ll all be over soon, and everything will be back to normal!”
Normal. That was the last thing she wanted. But she’d have to play along for now.
Several minutes later, they arrived at a door which was larger than all those she’d seen up to now. It was set in what looked like complicated machinery, with cogs and gears visible. As well as the usual hand plate next to it, it also had a large keypad and screen.
“We’ve reached the scientists’ laboratory,” said the first escort. “They’ll look after you from here. I’ve never been inside, in fact, I’ve never been near the door. A lot of weird stuff happens in there, I heard. Don’t worry, though! They’ll have you feeling good as new in no time.”
The woman’s forced bubbliness fell flat, as far as Ezmerelda was concerned. Nerves about what they might do to her in there caused another episode of nausea, but she kept her cool in front of the woman. She was going to have to keep her wits about her if she wanted to find out any information.
The escort waved her hand over the plate, before punching a couple of buttons and waiting. Seconds dragged by until a face appeared on the screen; an elderly man with thin white hair and circular eyeglasses. They would just be for show, of course. Everyone had perfect vision until the day they died.
“How can I help you?” asked the scientist. His was a voice with genuine kindness in it. It reminded Ezmerelda of gathering round the fire in Rottifer’s hut after the biting cold of the exterior. Straight away, she felt better.
“Hello, Dr Tindleson,” said the escort. “I’ve brought the girl, Ezmerelda Dontible. She’s in need of your ministrations.”
“Ah, yes. We were informed of this. Hello, my dear!” said the man, eyes swivelling to Ezmerelda. “A fascinating case. We’ll have you fixed up in no time, don’t worry.” He smiled a smile that was unlike those of every other adult she knew. It was because he did it with his whole face, even the crinkles at the edges of his eyes curling up to make mini-smiles.
“Well, I’ll leave her in your capable hands. We need to get back to the Centre. I’ll just let her in.” The woman punched a few numbers on the keypad, doing it slowly to make sure she got the sequence right. The door slid open to reveal a ti
ny chamber with another door at the other side.
“What’s this?” Ezmerelda took a deep breath and stepped into the space.
“Airlock. Just a precaution, I heard, in case the scientists are cooking up something obnoxious. Stops it from polluting the outside world.”
“Ah.”
“Don’t worry, you can’t come to any harm. Any more than you already have, I mean. Good luck! I think you’re coming back to the Centre afterwards, so I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay.” Ezmerelda managed to raise the corner of her mouth in a half-smile. She’d got to like the woman, but there was no way she was going back to the Centre if she could help it. Seconds later, the two faces were obscured from view by the sliding door. She turned to see its opposite opening in front of her, revealing a sight that made her heart surge with excitement.
A cavernous space stretched away into unseen corners, filled with tables covered in beakers filled with liquid – coloured liquid – some of which bubbled and smoked. There were large, complex-looking machines with a plethora of buttons, levers and wheels. Computer terminals abounded. And everywhere, men in long coats scurried urgently from one thing to another, topping up beakers, dumping strange substances into vats, tapping frantically on handheld pads.
She had a few seconds to take it all in, before she noticed the kind-faced man who’d answered the escort striding toward her. This place must be what kept the world working. All the food dispensers, the vapourisers, how everything stayed spotlessly clean... and she was going to find out as much as she could, discreetly, of course.
It was a massive breach of security. That made her smile. Every empire had a few cracks somewhere.
“Ah, Miss Dontible!” said the scientist, reaching her and extending his hand. “George Tindleson, Chief Scientist, at your service. If you’d care to follow me?”
She took his hand and shook it. Already she liked him more than most adults she’d ever met. “I’m not supposed to be here, am I?”
“Strictly speaking, no.” He shrugged as if the matter barely concerned him. “But this is an unprecedented situation. How is the disease treating you?”
“Like a gravball being bounced off all six sides of the pitch. It’s horrible, sir, and if you’ve never felt pain, it’s hard to describe.”
“Poor girl. Please, come to my office and we’ll discuss the treatment.” He turned on his heel, and walked off at a more leisurely pace than he’d used to approach her. As they walked past the machines, and the scientists who paused in their work just briefly to look at her, she asked innocently, “What do all these things do?”
He looked at her sideways. “I’m not allowed to tell you very much. But suffice to say these are the wheels that keep the world turning. Or our part of it, anyway.”
They kept walking, and the various hums and clicks of the equipment were still there, but somehow a strange silence descended. Should she push it? Could she risk being sent back to the Centre to die?
What the hell.
“Our part of it? I thought Harmonia was the world. How big is it, exactly? Are there other places out there?”
Tindleson laughed. “I’ve probably said too much already. I might get disciplined for this, but at this point, I don’t really care. They need me here to keep things running smoothly. Look, I’ve heard a lot about you, Miss Dontible – you’re a smart cookie and you’ve got a big future ahead of you. You’re going to find these things out one way or another.”
Although he hadn’t exactly answered the question, Ezmerelda smiled to herself. Tindleson was going to be a good ally to have.
Nothing more was said until they reached the far wall of the laboratory, which featured a number of doors. Tindleson passed his hand over the panel of one right in the middle; it opened and he gestured for her to enter.
Inside, she gasped. The office featured many of the things she would expect – perfectly white floor, ceiling and walls, and a white desk with a computer station. But splashes of actual colour! Things she didn’t recognise, like a sort of orange pot on the desk with flat green things on a brown stick. A rug on the floor which drew her eye towards it. It had a swirling design in many colours. Shelves on the walls with multicoloured objects, different sizes but roughly the same shape. They were arranged in a line; the sides she could see had various words printed on them. It looked like a regular room with fantastic things imported from another universe.
“Please, sit down,” said Tindleson, indicating the chair in front of the desk. She did so, and he sat in the one opposite. “Still feeling okay?”
“For now. Never know when the next attack will come, though.”
He nodded. “You just look a bit overwhelmed.”
“It’s... I’ve never seen so many colours in one place!” Not even in Fusterbury. That place was almost as monochrome as her own world, seeming to consist of various shades of brown.
“You mean my personal effects?” Tindleson waved a hand dismissively, as if these things were commonplace. “I like to keep them to brighten the place up a bit. They’re from before the Reforms. Most government employees have some – but in the workplace, never in their homes. Some aren’t interested. But looking at blank white all the time turns you into one of the drones.” He got up. “Would you like to look at one of my books?”
“Is that what those are?” He was looking at his collection on the shelves with some measure of pride. Ezmerelda had read many books on her computer pad, of course – more than most of her peers. But they weren’t a physical thing.
Tindleson lifted one down and placed it on the desk in front of her. On the front, it said: “Oliver Twist, by Charles Dickens”. There was a picture of some buildings, in the same murky hues as she’d seen in Fusterbury.
“Open it,” he said helpfully.
She ran her hands gingerly over the surface. The top of it seemed to be a kind of lid, which revealed page after page of words. She’d never seen so many outside a computer. Very occasionally they worked with pen and paper at school, but only once in a blue moon. Like that, this book felt in some intangible way like a link to a past time. It was pleasing that it was being looked after well.
“Only copy left in existence, as far as I know.” Tindleson seemed to glow, like a doting father. “I’d let you borrow it, but there’s no way I can let it go outside Government HQ. More than my life’s worth. But you’d love it. Books these days... well, they’re much of a muchness. Boring.”
She flipped through the pages, entranced. Now that Tindleson had mentioned it, she’d be hard pushed to pick a book she’d read that had really stood out to her.
“Maybe you could read it during your recovery,” he said.
“Oh... yes.” She snapped back to the present, and remembered why she was here. As if to emphasise the fact, her stomach tightened and her whole body was shaken by a particularly violent coughing fit. She looked up to see the scientist regarding her gravely.
“I’ve never seen anything like that,” he said. “You poor thing. We’re wasting time here – we need to get started. Now, it will be quite a complicated process, but it boils down to a simple idea – we need to reprogram you.”
“Reprogram?”
“Your genetic structure. You, like everyone else, were born with a hyper-developed immune system – so you should be incapable of contracting any disease, or indeed coming to any physical harm. You have reinforced veins so you cannot shed blood, and your pain sensors soften the impact of any blow. More than that, your skin is lined with what we call ‘shock absorbers’ so there is no actual effect on you at all. Of course, now everything has been compromised, so we need to start again. Things have been this way for over two hundred years, since the Reforms, so as you can imagine it took some time to work out the necessary algorithms.”
She tried to absorb the information. This was just the way things were. No one ever wondered about the how.
“Can you tell me more about what happened – during the Reforms?”
He chuckled – a bit nervously, it seemed. “History’s not my strong point. Nor is politics. I just deal with the science. Let’s focus on the immediate problem, shall we?”
She nodded, although she intended to keep prodding him.
“We need to put you in a state of suspended animation, so all your systems will be shut down. Then, what I can only describe as little tiny robots – we call them nanobots – will be sent in to restructure the genetic code. They’ll bolster your system to be even stronger than before, and that should drive out the infection. Don’t look so worried! We’ll be in full control of them at all times, and we’ll see what’s going on by the use of microscopic cameras. I’m actually quite excited about the whole thing – this hasn’t been done for over two centuries, and it’ll make a change from the usual grind around here.”
Indeed, there was a vibrancy about Dr Tindleson that was absent from all other adults – and indeed children – she knew. She was quite surprised to find herself accepting his idea readily. It already felt like there were tiny creatures inside her pulling her apart – what more harm could a few little robots do?
She put a hand over her stomach, as if trying to stave off any more episodes before the operation. “When can you start?”
“In a few hours, if all goes well. My assistants are putting the finishing touches to the stasis chamber. You’ll be suspended in a low gravity field, and the nanobots will be injected via remote control syringe.”
“Err... how will they get out of my body?”
“The natural way,” he beamed. “Don’t worry, we’ve thought of everything – I think! Once the robots have done their job, they’re programmed to dissolve and be absorbed into the digestive tract. Then they’ll be ejected and vapourised in the normal way, after you’ve emerged from the chamber.”
“Um, okay.” It was hard to grasp what he was saying, but she felt there was something deeply trustworthy about Dr Tindleson. He was on her side.