by Nick Wilford
There was something else bugging her, though. About the operation... The scientist seemed to sense this and leaned back in his chair, waiting for her to speak.
“You said that no one had done this since the Reforms?”
“That’s right.”
“So when are you operating on my friend? Wellesbury Noon? He contracted the disease first, and was being held in the Centre with me. I kind of thought he would be looked at first.”
Tindleson looked wretched, and in that second she knew: they had done nothing to help him. He was a nobody after all, in the grand scheme of things, apart from being a high school league star of gravball; she was the daughter of a top-ranking government official. It was too much trouble to sort out the treatment for him, but for her? She thought she understood now the motivation behind his kiss.
Just as well it hadn’t backfired in a big way.
“I can’t lie to you,” said Tindleson, his voice sounding smaller than before, as if all the enthusiasm had been surgically removed. “Wellesbury hasn’t been brought here. I couldn’t even tell you if he was alive or dead.”
Seconds ticked past. Ezmerelda’s vision clouded. It couldn’t end like this. Wellesbury was one of the good ones. He was different. Maybe that was why it was convenient to let him die. Not to be forgotten, but to be held up as an example of what happened to deviants.
Screw that. She understood about Mallinger, but one of their own citizens? What sort of monsters were running this place?
“Tindleson,” she said, finally. “Can’t you go to him? I know they won’t bring him here, but is there any way you can get out to the Centre to help him?”
He shook his head. “No clearance to do that. It’s only you I’m to treat. Anyway, we can’t move the stasis tank and all the equipment.”
Once again the total silence hung oppressively. Ezmerelda felt like walking out of there and forgetting all about the cure. That would show them. She should have known better than to think Tindleson would be any different from the rest.
Chapter 15
Some time later, Ezmerelda was escorted through to the stasis chamber. She knew it was best to go through with the procedure - she could hardly do much in the state she was currently in - although the shine had completely come off Tindleson. Once this was over, she would have to come up with another plan.
“Okay, I just need you to change into this gown.” Tindleson handed Ezmerelda a folded garment. “There’s a waste compartment in the corner; use the vapouriser if you need to.” He seemed apologetic, and could clearly sense that she had turned cold towards him. She knew she should be grateful that she was being cured, but...
She started towards the corner compartment, but staggered on her feet. Tindleson supported her to get to the door and opened it for her. She could feel the disease was attempting to make one last defiant stand. Clutching the pile of cloth, she went in and sat down heavily on the bench. Tindleson shut the door.
She stood up and shook out the gown, which turned out to be a long, shapeless piece of material that reached almost to her ankles. Well, that was good at least. No way did she want Tindleson seeing her body. She looked at the waste disposal unit, and that was enough to set her off. Her whole body shook as she was violently sick into it. The relief of knowing it was the last time was tempered by the awareness that the boys were still suffering. What was she going to do about them?
Re-emerging from the compartment, she saw the scientist was busily tapping buttons and checking levels on a control panel on one of the large glass tube-like constructs that occupied the room.
“Just making sure the tank’s ready,” he said, without looking up. She stopped next to the tube and looked at it dumbly.
“Right. If you’d just like to climb in and make yourself comfortable...” He was pressing a button which slid the lid of the tube off so it hung down at one side.
There were three steps at the side of the chamber, which she climbed before stepping into the capsule and stretching out. It was lined with some comfy, synthetic material at the bottom. The last thing she remembered was Tindleson closing the cover over her head.
*
Waking up what seemed like a mere instant later, she immediately knew she was cured. Her head was clear again; the churning in her guts had gone. She waited while Tindleson slid back the glass lid.
“You can get out now,” said the scientist, but she was already upright and starting to manoeuvre herself over the side of the container. “How do you feel?”
“Just like my old self.” It was like she could suddenly think much more clearly too. She wanted to get to work on saving Wellesbury and Mallinger right now.
A thought occurred to her. “Thank you, Doctor,” she said.
“You’re welcome.”
“So, what happens now? Do I have to go back to the Centre?”
“No, I’ve heard the authorities don’t think it’s necessary. There’ll be a hovercar coming to escort you home; you can go and get yourself dressed.”
He turned away and started busying himself with the settings on the machine. To Ezmerelda, he seemed embarrassed, probably about refusing to help with Wellesbury; all his former warmth seemed to have evaporated. She went behind the screen, glad of being cured but frustrated about her friend’s continuing plight.
*
Ezmerelda was dropped at the front gate of her house by the hovercar driver and allowed to walk up the front path by herself. She was surprised to see her parents waiting by the front door. They had smiles on their faces, even if they looked somewhat forced.
“Hello, darling!” said her father, extending his arms for an embrace. She looked at her mother, who was hanging back but maintaining her grimace-like grin with what looked like some amount of effort. Well, that was more in character at least.
She accepted the rather awkward hug from her father, who went on, “We’re so glad you’re all better and back to normal.”
“Yeah, I feel great,” she lied.
“Come on in. It’ll be dinnertime soon. We have some rather exciting news for you.” He turned and went into the house, leaving Ezmerelda standing in front of her mother, who put one hand gingerly on her shoulder and said, “Welcome home.”
Well, one thing she could say about all the recent turmoil. It had made her parents more emotional than she had ever seen them, even if they still acted somewhat robotic.
She followed her mother into the house and they all took up their regular seats in the living room.
“Now,” her father began. “You’ve been through an awful lot, and you probably want to get some rest tonight. But first of all I’ve got a lot to tell you.”
Ezmerelda sat attentively, waiting for whatever it was he had to say.
“Now, I know you don’t know much about what I do for a living. Well, it’s about time you knew. I work for the government - at a very high level, actually, as an adviser to the Supreme Grand Ruler.”
“Really?” She tried to keep a straight face, and hoped she looked suitably impressed.
“Indeed,” he said, somewhat smugly. Probably too wrapped up in his own importance to notice if there was anything awry with her reaction, she thought.
“Now, we know you’re a bright girl. With a questioning mind. However, as we have seen, easily capable of being led astray - with potentially disastrous consequences.
“I think we need to channel those energies in a more fruitful direction. My employers are always looking for people who are a cut above the average - and we think you could be just that. So, for the next month we would like you to come and do work experience in various government departments.”
“Wow! That’s really exciting.” This time, she didn’t have to fake her enthusiasm. This was her golden opportunity to do something for Wellesbury and Mallinger. “But... what about school?”
Her father crossed one leg over the other. “It, er, came to our attention that there was a certain amount of teasing from some other pupils about this unfortun
ate issue with Wellesbury and that despicable demon. We wouldn’t want to put you in that position, and hopefully things will settle down if you stay away for a bit longer.”
Well, that didn’t seem likely. And it was more Wellesbury that had borne the brunt of the bullying - she was well able to handle herself. Finally, she didn’t believe her parents were really bothered if she was getting bullied - it was more likely that she knew too much and might infect other impressionable young minds.
If she had anything to do with it, though, their plan to indoctrinate her into the government’s maniacal power structure was going to backfire big time.
“Okay,” she nodded. “I understand. So when do I start?”
“First thing Monday morning. I’ll show you how I get to work.”
She already knew, of course. She was going to have to rely on her acting skills a lot over the next month. And if she still wanted to save Mallinger, she only had a few days.
Chapter 16
On Monday morning, after a tortuously long weekend, Ezmerelda got dressed and prepared to follow her dad into work.
“Bet you’re looking forward to seeing what I actually do,” he said over breakfast. Friendlier than usual, even if it was tempered with a little arrogance.
“Will I start at your department?” she asked, holding a half-eaten slice of toast she wasn’t really enjoying in one hand. Food wasn’t really the same now she knew it was entirely synthetic.
“Yes, you can spend the day at my office.” He had already devoured his meal with gusto. “I’ll have some errands for you, I’m sure. Should there be any high level meetings, I’m unsure whether you’ll be able to attend them, but we’ll soon find out.”
“So exciting!” she said. She wasn’t lying about feeling like that. It was her only shot at saving Mallinger; the thought of pulling it off made her feel all warm, but if she messed up, it would all be over.
Her father smiled indulgently at her enthusiasm, and she couldn’t help revelling in his attention just a little bit. It was like he’d just realised he actually had a daughter. She chanced her arm. “And what about tomorrow?”
“According to the schedule, you’ll be assisting one of my colleagues in the Communications Department.”
She tried to contain the surge of adrenaline she felt upon hearing this news. The idea she’d had last night might just become a reality. Better it was today, but...
“That sounds interesting. I’d like to know how the newsfeeds are actually put together.”
Wouldn’t she just.
*
She hoped she would get the chance to sit in on some top-level meetings that day, and hear more about what was actually going on, but frustratingly none came up. She helped her dad with various mundane tasks such as filing. It was obvious he wasn’t completely happy about her being there, but she shrugged it off and got on with things. It was still much better than school.
Tuesday, her dad took her to the Communications Department after they had silently trudged through the tunnel and introduced her to one of the Heads of Media Distribution, one Jeremy Salkeson.
“She’s a bright girl, I’m sure she’ll pick things up in no time,” said her dad as though she wasn’t in the room. Without another word, he scuttled off to his own department.
She was in a small office, much smaller than her dad’s was, or Tindleson’s. Like the former, and unlike the latter, it was completely plain and unadorned, just the desk and chair with the computer terminal. The desk was, however, strewn with a multitude of papers which she itched to leaf through to see what they contained. That would hardly go down well, though.
“I’m sorry, I’ll get you another chair,” said Salkeson. He was a short, stocky man who hadn’t smiled once, and she got the distinct impression he resented the intrusion on his space. Still, she wouldn’t let it put her off; she was here to learn, after all.
While he was gone, she had a quick glance at one of the papers on top of the pile, but it seemed to be a list of dry statistics much the same as what she read on the news feed every day. She shouldn’t really be surprised, but she was hoping to see something slightly more interesting.
She looked up quickly when the door slid open and smiled at Salkeson, who was manhandling a chair into the claustrophobic space. He grunted in return and eyed her suspiciously. By the time they both managed to get seated, there was barely room to move.
Salkeson started shuffling through his papers and trying to arrange them into some sort of order. It was as if he was determined to be oblivious to her existence, so she would need to be the one to make the effort.
“So, what do you do here exactly?” she said brightly.
Salkeson sighed and looked up at the ceiling. He seemed to be resigning himself to the fact there might be another human being on the same planet as him, let alone one sharing the same cramped room.
“Information comes in from the reporters at other departments,” he said. “Through the messaging service, and hard copies through there.” He pointed at a section of wall above the desk that jutted out slightly and featured a long, thin slot. As they watched, a sheet of paper slid out and joined its many fellows on the overcrowded desk.
He rolled his eyes. “I’d much rather everything was online, but for some reason they still insist on having a printout of everything. So we spend most of our time trying to deal with the paperwork. I bring it up at government meetings all the time, but they don’t listen.”
“So, you get to go to the meetings?” she said, perking up.
“Oh yes, well, as one of the heads of the department it’s my duty.” He sat up a bit straighter and cleared his throat. “I’m the main editor you see, in charge of what gets put out. We don’t use everything.”
“These meetings happen often?”
“Most days... I do wish they wouldn’t eat up so much time, though.” He clicked at his keypad, scrolling through messages.
Another uncomfortable silence elapsed. Ezmerelda folded her hands demurely in her lap and asked, “So, you’re not involved in gathering the reports, then?”
“Oh no,” he replied, screwing up his face as if such a concept was entirely beneath him. “That’s grunt work. I couldn’t be doing with all that running around. Of course, that’s how I started out, but I worked my way up bit by bit.”
Ezmerelda would have quite liked to be out there soaking up as much information as she could; surely it had to be compressed and polished to show the best possible side of the government. But right here was the best place to be if she wanted to carry out her plan. And she would still get the chance to spend a lot of time in those other departments... or maybe not, if everything kicked off.
“So, what would you like me to do, exactly?”
“Hmm? Oh, nothing. Watch and learn. And try not to get in the way.”
A real charmer, she thought.
*
Five hours later and Ezmerelda was bored. Reports had come in and she’d been given a rough overview by Salkeson on how to edit them to pick out the most pertinent information. On the one occasion she’d been entrusted with dealing with a report herself, he had got frustrated at her slow progress and taken it out of her hands. He definitely wasn’t a natural teacher.
She didn’t even get to escape the office for lunch, although she was able to leave her oppressively tiny cubicle. There was an open space at the side of the department, with a table for the employees to sit and eat their meal. Everyone came out of their rooms at the allotted time - it was the first time she’d caught a glimpse of the other writers - but they acted like she wasn’t there, not bothering to introduce themselves. There was a silence around the table that wasn’t malevolent, just mindnumbingly empty.
This was one department she definitely wouldn’t want to work in for real. The science lab seemed like the place to be at the moment.
It was just after two o’clock when Salkeson announced that he’d got an urgent message to attend a government meeting. “I wish they’d give
us a bit more notice for these things,” he said, standing up. “Don’t touch anything while I’m gone.”
And that was it. He left the room without a backwards glance.
Ezmerelda looked at his computer screen. The departure of Salkeson seemed to give her more room to think, and breathe. So this was her chance. Now that it had come, would she go through with it? What would the repercussions be? Pretty good chance she’d be thrown back in the Centre. Yes, but her work would be done. It’d be hard for the government to put a spin on what she had to say or explain it away. Wouldn’t it?
There was only one way to find out. And she didn’t know how long she would have before her supervisor returned.
She opened a new file on Salkeson’s computer and entitled it “Whitopolan Citizen Left to Die by Government”.
It took her about ten minutes to compose the report. She put in everything that people needed to know about Wellesbury’s current condition, how it was possible for the government to treat it, and how Mallinger was a normal human boy who also deserved a chance to live. She didn’t know if he had in fact died, but surely a triumphant statement would have been issued if that was the case. She still had questions herself about what exactly happened during the Reforms, but she had to stick to what she knew and what people needed to know. It was better to be as concise as possible anyway.
She’d been watching Salkeson fastidiously during his work as there was nothing else to do. It seemed a straightforward matter to publish the piece so it would arrive immediately on the government newsfeed. And everyone was subscribed to that; it wasn’t like it was optional. Those who didn’t see it right away would catch up with it later.
On the screen, the cursor hovered over the button marked “Publish”. One tap of her finger and it would be out there...