Elites

by Natasha Ngan

  He tipped his head back, letting the light warm his skin. As the sky cleared, the eerie hush of the valley gave way to gentle afternoon sounds; birdsong, the bubbling of the river. Butterfly thought how his mother and sister had died in a dark, smoke-choked place. It was not fair. They belonged here, in the light, in the warm golden rush with the promise of life carried on the air.

  It slammed into him again then; grief so hard it was like the sky had fallen and was crushing him to the ground. He let the tears be squeezed out of him, but he refused to give in to it. He’d not give the Council the satisfaction.

  Butterfly glanced over at Silver, where she lay beside the tree. She was still sleeping, curled on one side, her knees tucked into her chin. It reminded him of how they lay together in his bedpod back in the Stacks. That life seemed a whole world away now.

  He waded further into the river, the small boat balanced on his arms. The water was a solid coldness around him. He moved deeper in until the water was up to his chest and, standing there, he finally felt the full force of what had happened.

  An agony rushed through him, dragging tears from his eyes like fingers were scrabbling, scraping them out. Butterfly tried to imagine Leanor and Emeli’s blackened skin turning back to untouched white as the water washed over them. He knew he needed to let go now, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to hold the boat with his mother and sister’s bodies forever. He wanted to stay standing like this in the river with the water rushing round him until it rose up and took him into its cool arms too.

  There was a trill of birdsong in a nearby tree, and it was that that finally gave Butterfly the strength to let go, remembering how Emeli had told him she loved birds. He dropped his arms down, taking his support away from the base of the boat. The momentum of the water took the boat a couple of metres downriver before its weight grew too much and it dipped under the surface, just a dark, blurry shadow lowering to the riverbed.

  ‘Goodbye,’ he whispered. He felt he should say something more, but he had no words.

  Butterfly climbed out of the river, dark patches blossoming on the bank where he walked, the water dripping from his clothes. All of a sudden, a red-hot rage consumed him. He’d held it back till then. The grief had held it back. But now the river had taken all he had, leaving a hard, burning core. He didn’t think he’d ever been angry before. Not properly, not really. Not until he’d felt what it was like to have his whole world exposed as a lie and to know that he’d talked to – he’d worked for – the very people that had stolen years of happiness with his family away from him.

  They had told him his family were dead. They had made him put on a suit with arms too long for his six-year-old’s body, had made him go to a fake funeral to watch the boats drift out towards the gate over the waterfall. Small boats like two broken wings that the water tugged away from him. And now Butterfly was at their funeral again, knowing he would never have one more second with his family.

  It felt as though a hand was tightening around his throat. He needed air. He needed to be in air. Above, the empty blue sky glittered like a promise. Butterfly tore off his shirt and spread his wings. He was so blinded by rage that when Silver stepped out from the willow, the anger exploded out of him and, thinking her a Neo-Babel soldier come back to finish the job, he swung round at her, roaring, his wings flaring like sharp white flames behind him. Silver shrunk back. Her face and clothes were streaked with ash and dirt and blood. A cut split her bottom lip almost in two. ‘What … what happened?’ she asked. ‘Did you shock me to stop me going after the –’

  ‘Yes, I shocked you!’ Butterfly roared. ‘What were you thinking, running around like that while soldiers from Neo were taking every living thing down? You thought you could take them? You thought just because you’re a precious Elite, killing them would be easy for you? That it would mean nothing? Or what?’ His voice lowered to a hiss. ‘Maybe you hoped they’d realise you’re an Elite and throw their guns away. Maybe even ask you to join them? Is that what you wanted?’

  Silver narrowed her eyes. She said nothing, but her mouth was tight, and she didn’t flinch as Butterfly made a sudden movement backwards.

  ‘It’s because of you my mum and sister are dead. Your parents are probably fine. They must’ve left like mine to get away from the Council, and who can blame them after what we’ve seen? We should have let them leave. Instead, you had to follow them, and we led the Council straight to the village. Straight to …’ His voice broke. ‘To my family. Those birthchip blockers must have been fake. They were fake, and we just walked straight into the village, not caring or worrying that Senior Surrey might track our birthchips after finding out we’d disappeared. We may as well have shot them all ourselves. We as good as killed them.’

  Silver shook her head. ‘You shouldn’t have stunned me,’ she said in a cool voice. ‘You should have let me kill the soldiers.’ Then she turned and walked away.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Butterfly asked.

  ‘To check the village,’ she answered, not looking round. ‘There might be survivors.’

  He followed her through a gap in the gorse bushes and out into the open countryside.

  Silver glanced back at him. ‘Are you coming, then? If not, I’ll meet you back here when I’m done.’

  Butterfly stopped and stared after her. She looked so small, so vulnerable against the rolling green valleys and hills, the distant line of the forest where Yasir’s village was buried at its core, smoke still rising from the dying fires. He knew he should go. It was the right thing to do. But the thought of returning to the place where his mother and sister had died was too much.

  Without saying anything to Silver, he turned, launching himself into the air. Butterfly didn’t care where he was going. He just had to move. He flew for so long his body began to hurt with the effort, but he didn’t stop. The pain felt good. He needed it. As he flew, the pain dug into his back where his wings sprouted, achy and hard. It replaced the agony he felt inside with an agony he felt in his bones and muscles. Replaced an unbearable agony with a bearable one.

  At the same time, it did nothing to help at all.

  26

  Cambridge’s Weakness

  Akhezo scrambled through the metal hatch into the room at the base of the skylung. He was panting and red-faced, having been up and down the staircase that led to the tunnel to the Limpets what felt like a hundred times that day. As he pulled himself over the edge of the hatch for what he hoped would be the last time, someone grabbed his ankle.

  ‘Hey!’ he shouted, as the hand dragged him down and he fell forward onto the floor.

  ‘Thanks, Akhezo!’ Neve trilled. She crawled over him and out of the hatch.

  He jumped to his feet. ‘You complete –’

  ‘What about me?’ she gasped, batting her eyelashes and flapping a hand at her face. ‘Why, dear Akhezo – were you about to say that I’m wonderful? That I’m the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen? That I’m –’

  ‘A useless little rat that needs to shut her trap.’

  They jumped, turning to see Domino shuffling into the workroom. He was dragging an armchair behind him. ‘Well, don’t just gape at me. Come and take this chair down to the rickshaw.’

  ‘What d’you need that for?’ Akhezo grumbled. ‘Cambridge told us to only bring the essentials.’

  ‘This is essential!’ snapped Domino. ‘When you’re old and have a back like mine, you’ll understand the beauty of the perfect chair. Now, hurry and get it down. We should’ve been out of here by now.’ Not waiting for an answer, he lowered himself down the hatch, wheezing heavily.

  ‘That’s it – save yourself, old man,’ hissed Akhezo when Domino was out of earshot. ‘Don’t worry that we might be blown up with the skylung while we’re trying to drag your stupid chair out of here.’ But he took hold of the armchair anyway. He nodded at Neve. ‘Get the other end. We’ll bring it down together.’

  ‘Of course, my dear! I long for anything we can do together.’r />
  ‘Oh, if you’re gonna start this again –’

  ‘Fine, fine, I’ll stop!’ She grinned, holding up her hands and hurrying to help him with the chair.

  Neve had been teasing Akhezo for the past few days about something she’d apparently overheard him say about her while he was asleep. He’d denied it, of course, but it was true. Neve had been in his dreams lately.

  They carried Domino’s armchair down the staircase, Akhezo supporting its weight from underneath, while Neve held onto it at the top.

  ‘So,’ Akhezo said, keeping his eyes on the steps before him. ‘You gonna miss this place?’

  It was the sort of question Neve might have scoffed at before now, but their experience in the stairwell the night of the Council member’s appearance had changed something between them.

  ‘Yeah, I’ll miss it,’ she said quietly. ‘It was our home.’

  ‘It sure beat the Limpets, anyway.’

  ‘Yeah. It did.’

  The ringing of their clunking footsteps was the only sound in the narrow stairwell. All of the Pigeons had already left the skylung with essential supplies and equipment over the course of the afternoon.

  ‘Hey, Akhezo?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘What did you do before?’ Neve asked. ‘I mean, back in the Limpets. Before coming here.’

  ‘I worked for this Red who ran a forge,’ he answered.

  ‘What about your parents?’

  Akhezo hesitated. ‘My mum abandoned me when I was born.’ He forced a laugh, though inside he felt a stab of anger. ‘Mr Kwan was always saying he got a good deal, getting me free like that.’

  ‘I wish my parents had left me when I was born.’

  ‘What d’you mean?’

  ‘My dad liked malt beer,’ said Neve, her voice trembling. ‘He liked it more than he liked me and Mum. He used to … Anyway, that’s probably why he sold me, when Domino came looking. Beer money.’

  They made their way down the last few steps in silence. When they reached the bottom of the stairwell, they dropped the armchair, and Neve sat on it, drawing her knees up to her chest.

  ‘Is that what that was?’ Akhezo asked, remembering the day she arrived at the Limpets. There had been bruises on her face; blue-black shadows in the hollows of her eyes and cheeks.

  She nodded.

  He jabbed her with a finger. ‘So that’s why you threw a punch at me, huh? Wanted to even things out?’

  It wasn’t funny, but Neve laughed anyway. ‘Yeah.’ She smiled, fiddling with one of her ear piercings. She glanced down. When she looked back up her eyes glinted. ‘That and I could tell you were easy bait.’

  Akhezo grinned. He was about to reply when a voice rang down from the square of light at the top of the stairwell.

  ‘Hello? Is anyone down there?’

  ‘Cambridge!’ said Akhezo excitedly. He raised his voice and shouted back, ‘Here!’

  ‘Ah, good,’ Cambridge called, descending the stairs so quickly it looked as though he was skipping. ‘I was afraid you’d all gone. I see our chariot has arrived!’

  There was the unmistakable squeaking of bicycle wheels coming down the tunnel. By the time Cambridge reached the bottom of the stairs, a rickshaw had pulled into the stairwell.

  ‘Let us board, my dear friends,’ he said, throwing an arm around Akhezo and Neve.

  Since Neve had told him about their encounter with the Council member, they had been back in Cambridge’s favour. Akhezo was glad for that. Here was another shot to prove his worth to the leader of the Pigeons. All his feelings about wanting to leave the Limpets and hating Cambridge had vanished when, instead of reacting angrily to their spying and tossing them out of the skylung as Akhezo had thought he would do, Cambridge had thanked them instead.

  The rickshaw moved down the tunnel to the Limpets, the neon strips of light lining the tunnel blurred behind the material that was draped across the front of the passenger bench.

  Akhezo was squeezed in the middle of the bench between Neve and Cambridge. ‘Sir –’

  ‘Cambridge, please.’

  ‘Er … well, I’ve been thinking ’bout something.’

  ‘What something?’ Cambridge asked, smiling.

  ‘I wanted to know why you seem so sure about the skylung getting destroyed,’ said Akhezo hesitantly. ‘I mean, of course it was bad for the Council to know where we are, but that Council member did say he wouldn’t tell …’

  Cambridge raised an eyebrow. ‘And you believed him? I’ve been around long enough to know that Council members aren’t afraid of lying to get what they want, my dear boy.’

  Just as I am, thought Akhezo, glancing away. He’d not told anyone about turning off the Elites’ birthchips. He still wanted the money the Council member had promised, but now he wanted it to give to Cambridge as a sign of his loyalty.

  ‘But I do admit,’ continued Cambridge, ‘there’s more to it than that. You see, I wanted the Council to track the delivery.’

  Akhezo’s eyes widened. ‘You wanted …?’

  Cambridge nodded. ‘I needed explosives, and we didn’t have access to nearly enough materials to make the amount I needed. I also knew that asking the Council for explosives would enable them to track the delivery. That’s what they’ve been waiting for all these years – their chance to find our hideout once and for all.’

  ‘So we didn’t really save everyone.’ Akhezo scowled.

  ‘No, no!’ Cambridge said quickly, squeezing Akhezo’s shoulder. ‘That’s not true at all. Without you two, I wouldn’t have known for definite that they did track the delivery, and then we’d have moved out of our beloved home for nothing. Your input was essential.’

  ‘But, sir,’ said Neve. ‘Why would you want the Council to know where we were?’

  ‘Good question, my dear girl. You see, I know what the Council are like. They’re rash and trigger-happy. They prefer quick revenge over a more thought-out approach. I knew that if they discovered where we were operating from, they’d want to destroy all evidence of us. Quickly.’

  Akhezo shook his head. ‘But why would you want that?’

  ‘Because we’re ready,’ answered Cambridge.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For the Pigeons’ final flight!’ Cambridge grinned, and his face was alight with the same feverish glow Akhezo had seen that day when he’d first reported the news about those two Council snobs. ‘My dear friends – it’s finally time for us to take down the Council once and for all.’

  The Pigeons’ temporary hideout was in a large hall on the bottom floor of the Limpets. It felt strange to Akhezo to be so deep within the earth. It was difficult to tell what time of day it was without any windows or balconies to watch the sun rise or set, to look out at the night-time city full of multicoloured lights. The only light came from the lamps set into the walls, filling the hall with a flickering yellow.

  Most of the Pigeons were busy sorting things out from their move. Akhezo watched from where he was sat against the wall beside Neve. She was sleeping with her head resting on his lap, her arms curled round his crossed legs, and he forced himself to focus on the activity in the hall to block out thoughts of Neve so close to him, the feel of her body against his.

  ‘Akhezo? May I, ah, have a moment?’

  Cambridge had crouched down beside him so quietly Akhezo hadn’t even noticed.

  Akhezo nodded. Cambridge sat, leaning back against the wall. His green eyes were softer than usual. He reached out to touch Akhezo’s hand where it lay on the ground.

  ‘I wanted to apologise,’ he said. ‘On the shisha boat … I let those two women throw you overboard. I didn’t save you.’

  Akhezo remembered how betrayed he had felt, lying on the deck of the junk-boat, soaked through and shivering. He nodded curtly.

  ‘I wanted to help you,’ Cambridge went on. ‘But I couldn’t have. It would have shown the Council my weakness, and would have put you in terrible danger.’

  Akhezo raised his eyebrow
s. ‘Your weakness?’

  Cambridge squeezed Akhezo’s hand. He let out a long sigh. ‘Do you know how I became leader of the Pigeons?’ he asked.

  Akhezo shook his head.

  ‘I had a daughter,’ explained Cambridge. His voice was quiet. He looked down at the floor as he spoke, his eyes glazed. ‘I have a daughter,’ he corrected. ‘But she doesn’t want anything to do with me. Her mother and I separated when our children were young. At birth, my daughter had been streamed into the Council for their Elite training programme, you see. I didn’t agree with it, but her mother … ah, she always did care too much about her social status. She revelled in the newfound glory our daughter had brought us, and in time, our differences on the matter were too much to overcome.’

  ‘Sorry, sir,’ muttered Akhezo.

  Cambridge nodded absentmindedly. ‘I don’t know what the Council did to her, but as the years passed, my daughter grew more and more distant from me. Eventually, she refused to see me. She told me I would ruin her reputation at the Council with my anti-birthchip talk. That she was …’ He took a deep breath, stroking Akhezo’s hand tenderly. ‘That she was ashamed of me. Her mother felt the same. She wouldn’t even let me visit our son, and it has been so long since I’ve seen my children, I am terrified I would not recognise them any more.’ Cambridge looked up at Akhezo. His green eyes flashed with their usual brightness. ‘Ah, do you see, Akhezo? Children are my weakness. I may have lost my own, but I have found comfort in saving children such as yourself and Neve from pitiful futures in the Limpets, and exposing you to the ways in which birthchips tear us apart.’

  ‘I had no idea,’ breathed Akhezo. He thought he would have felt angry at Cambridge calling him a child, but right now, with Cambridge’s hand stroking his, talking to him as though a father, Akhezo didn’t care. In that moment, he felt like a child –