Pandora Jones: Reckoning

by Barry Jonsberg

  Gwynne sniffed and wiped at his nose. He glanced at Pan and then ignored her.

  ‘Right,’ he said. He paced up and down in front of the group of fifty or sixty students who had lined up, in ragged fashion, before him. ‘One-on-one combat. What are the rules?’

  There was a slight pause.

  ‘No rules.’ Jen’s voice rang clear.

  ‘Correct,’ said Gwynne. ‘Listen up. Go for the vulnerable areas. Eyes. Gouge them. Get your thumbs in. Push. Easiest opponent? One who’s been blinded. Nose is good too. Fingers into the nostrils. Pull. Painful. Bite. Kick. Whatever it takes. Volunteer?’

  The students glanced at each other and tried to edge away from the front row. They all kept their eyes fixed firmly on the ground and shuffled backwards.

  ‘You. Step forward.’

  It was the student Wei-Lin had taunted on Pan’s first session with Gwynne, the one who had seemed so confident. What was his name? Mitch. He looked around as if in hope he hadn’t been selected, that Gwynne was actually talking to someone else. Pan felt sorry for him. When he realised there was no escape, he moved forward reluctantly. Gwynne eyed him up and down. He sniffed.

  ‘You will attack me,’ he said. ‘Your job. Kill me. Understood?’

  The boy nodded.

  ‘What are the rules?’

  ‘No rules,’ said Mitch, but his voice trembled.

  ‘Correct. When you’re ready.’

  Mitch moved forward one pace. He crouched slightly, spreading and anchoring his feet. His fists came up in the classic fighting pose, left hand clenched and slightly in advance of the right. He narrowed his eyes.

  Gwynne sighed and kicked him between the legs. Mitch’s eyes widened for a moment and then he sank to his knees. Seconds later his breakfast was spread over the rocky ground. Gwynne stepped back.

  ‘Testicles,’ he said. ‘Protect them. Not protected? Game over.’ He looked down at Mitch and sniffed. ‘Girls different. Obviously. But breasts are targets too. Painful if you grab and twist. No rules. Repeat.’

  The group was too stunned to respond quickly, but a few voices muttered. No rules.

  ‘Again,’ said Gwynne. ‘Louder.’

  ‘No rules.’ This time the chorus was noisier, though distinctly lacking enthusiasm.

  ‘Another volunteer?’

  The students glanced at each other. Was he mad?

  ‘Me.’ Jen stepped forward. She stood at Mitch’s side. He was still convulsing, curled up in a foetal position. At least he’d stopped throwing up. A faint moan issued from his body, but Gwynne paid no attention.

  ‘Not you,’ he said.

  ‘Scared?’ asked Jen.

  ‘Not you,’ Gwynne repeated. He pointed at Pan. ‘You, girl.’

  ‘I didn’t volunteer,’ said Pan.

  ‘I volunteered you,’ Gwynne replied. Their eyes locked. Pan shrugged and stepped up to Jen’s side. ‘Girl who thinks she doesn’t need to turn up to classes,’ Gwynne continued. ‘Girl who knows it all. Thinks she knows it all. Is that right? You know it all?’

  ‘Most of it,’ said Pan.

  ‘What are the rules?’ said Gwynne.

  ‘No rules,’ Pan replied.

  ‘Correct. When you’re ready.’

  Pan took a step to the side, avoiding Mitch who was still twitching on the ground. Jen reluctantly backed off. Gwynne’s body language was alert, his eyes following Pan’s movements. She could see the tension in his every muscle, his body like a spring waiting for a signal to respond. He didn’t take his eyes from hers. Pan smiled and lifted her arms above her head. She raised one leg, stood like a crane. A strange keening noise issued from her throat. Gwynne took a step back. There was a giggle behind her, but Pan ignored it. She brought her arms out to her side slowly, a balletic sequence. And then she spun, arms swirling, one toe gripping the ground. Those dancing lessons, so long ago. She was acutely aware of how pathetic her movements were. That instructor . . . what was her name? Pan couldn’t recall. But she’d be spinning in her grave. If she was dead. Pan leaped sideways, went down on one knee, her left arm raised languorously, her head tilted. This time there were many giggles. And then she was up, twirling. Faster and faster, her legs skipping.

  The rock hit Gwynne squarely in the face and he went down without a sound.

  Silence. There were many students behind Pan, but not one so much as breathed. Pan walked over to the instructor. Gwynne was out cold, blood spread across his face, his nose a ruined mess.

  It starts now, thought Pan. We fight back.

  She knelt down and whispered in his ear. ‘No rules,’ she said.

  Chapter 11

  ‘First things first,’ said Jen. ‘Are we together in this?’

  The group sat at the foot of the cairn. Sam seemed upset, as if the slightest word would breach an emotional dam. Karl kept his arm around her shoulder, hugged her close. Sanjit, as always, maintained a physical and emotional distance, his face blank. Wei-Lin groomed the feathers in an arrow. No one said anything.

  ‘This is important,’ Jen continued. ‘Pan and me, we’re gonna try something. And the one thing we can guarantee is that it’s dangerous as hell. The probability is that we’re gonna die trying. The more of us there are, the better the chances, but it’s still a helluva long shot. You should know that before you commit.’

  ‘I’m in,’ said Wei-Lin. Her voice was soft, and she continued caressing her arrow.

  ‘Think about this, Wei-Lin,’ said Jen.

  Wei-Lin looked up. ‘Excuse me?’ she said. ‘ “Think about this?” What do you imagine I’ve been doing, Jen? All last night. And today? I’ve thought about nothing else and I know what I need to do.’

  ‘Yeah, okay . . .’

  ‘I’m in.’ Wei-Lin repeated.

  ‘Let me finish,’ said Jen. ‘Would you let me do that?’

  Wei-Lin shrugged.

  ‘Here’s the bottom line,’ Jen continued. ‘We fail, we die. What happens then? The rest of the world dies anyway and what have we achieved? Zilch. If we do nothing, then at least we survive. What Goldberg told Pan. Hey, it makes sense. Maybe the world would stand a better chance if there was just a few thousand of us to start again.’

  You’ve said that before, thought Pan. When we came back from the island, up there in the Garden on Top of the World. What were the exact words? “The virus did the earth a favour. The only downside was that it didn’t wipe all of us out.” Jen had changed her mind, but the argument remained. There was a pause.

  ‘I have a sister,’ said Wei-Lin eventually. ‘Her name is Jiao. She has her life ahead, too. You want me to sacrifice that because Professor Goldberg has a point?’

  ‘I’m just saying,’ said Jen.

  ‘I’m in too,’ said Sanjit. The rest of the group looked at him. He shrugged. ‘It’s the right thing to do,’ he added. He returned his gaze to the broader landscape of The School.

  ‘Sam and Karl,’ said Pan. ‘It might be okay for us to go tilting at windmills, but you guys are in a totally different position. You’ve got a baby on the way. That’s a future, something solid. It would be sensible if you two just walked away now. And no one here would blame you. We’re just risking our own lives, you’d be risking someone else’s, someone who doesn’t have a choice.’

  Sam’s face crumpled and Karl drew her closer. He looked to be on the verge of tears himself, but when he spoke his voice was strong and clear.

  ‘We’ve talked about this,’ he said. ‘And we’ve made up our minds. We don’t want our child to be born into a world that has been murdered.’ He stroked the side of Sam’s face. ‘How could she or he cope with knowing we didn’t do anything, knowing we didn’t even try to stop it happening? What kind of parents would that make us?’

  ‘She wouldn’t have to know,’ said Pan. She. A girl. Pan hoped that Sam and Karl hadn’t picked up on her slip of the tongue. ‘Not unless you told her. Or him.’

  ‘Yeah, but we’d know,’ said Sam. ‘And our child . . .’ She swallo
wed and fought to regain composure. ‘Our child would carry the taint with her . . . him, whatever . . . always. And it’s like Wei-Lin said. We have families too and we owe them.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Jen. ‘Anyone wants to change their mind, at any time, that’s cool. Now, the plan. This is the way me and Pan see it. There’s an elevator in the Infirmary, a place where no elevator should be . . .’

  Wei-Lin’s eyes widened when she saw the waterfall, and Pan guessed she gasped, though any sound was swallowed by the roar of falling water. Sanjit blinked. The two had volunteered to accompany Jen and Pan to a rendezvous with Nate. Sam and Karl wanted to come as well, but it had been agreed that too big a group might attract attention. Though darkness had fallen and it was an hour to lights out, students would be milling around the dormitories and the shower blocks, and the absence of the entire team could cause comment. Anyway, Pan had a job for Karl while they were away. She explained and he agreed to give it a go.

  There was a thin slice of moon and the mist from the waterfall spun its silver light into a milky veil. Wei-Lin held her arms out and turned her face to the sky. Sanjit smiled.

  They waited by the entrance to the cave. Jen had slipped inside to check for Nate, but it was deserted, so they waited at the side of the waterfall. Soon, they were all soaked by the spray.

  Pan felt the grip of Wei-Lin’s hand on her arm when Nate stepped into view. Nate didn’t see them until he was almost upon them; he stopped, looked at Wei-Lin and Sanjit, and alarm flashed across his features. Pan took one pace forward and touched his arm, pushed gently with her mind.

  It’s okay, Nate.

  It was difficult to read his reaction. There were images swimming and swirling, a chaotic confusion, a maelstrom of the mind. It was like trying to make sense of a film where the scenes were on shuffle and there was no semblance of narrative. Pan closed her eyes, attempted to focus.

  We cannot talk. They will hear us.

  It was a gossamer thought, blown away almost before she had time to pin it down.

  There is no device in your head, Nate, she thought. It’s an illusion. Just one of many The School has manufactured. It’s safe. No one can hear us. Trust me. Trust me.

  It was difficult to know if he understood, but as she repeated that phrase, his eyes switched from Wei-Lin and Sanjit to her face. He almost smiled. Almost.

  Trust me, Pan thought again and this time there was no mistaking his response. A calmness settled and he brought his own hand up, placed it on hers.

  ‘I hate to break up what is clearly a tender moment.’ Jen yelled into Pan’s ear. ‘But time is marching on and we’re all soaked. Can we go somewhere to talk?’

  They walked deeper into the forest and eventually sat down at the base of a tree in a tiny clearing. Not much light made it through the canopy and they could barely see each other’s faces, but at least the sound of falling water had diminished and conversation was possible. Pan settled herself and tried to ignore the way her clothes clung to every part of her body. Though the evening was warm, the dampness chilled her. She considered her opening remark, but Sanjit beat her to it.

  ‘I’m glad you’re not dead, Nate,’ he said. He put out his hand and, for a moment, Nate could only stare, as if not understanding the gesture. Then he reached out and the boys shook. Nate smiled.

  ‘No one can hear us,’ said Pan. She could still read the fear in Nate’s mind. ‘I know you remember the surgery, Nate. You have all the details imprinted on your mind, but that’s exactly what it was. An imprint. It never happened. It’s like our memories of the virus, something that was manufactured, to keep you under control. A bluff, that’s all. Trust me. I know.’

  How did she know? It was almost impossible, even in her own mind, to distinguish fact from fiction, from what had really happened and what The School wanted her to believe had happened. Yet she was certain. There was something about the nature of that particular memory in Nate’s head. It was too . . . clear. Sharp. The kind of distinction that made you aware, no matter how good the effects, that a 3D movie was not real life. Yet that hadn’t worked with her own memories. Maybe there was an investment for you to believe your own memories, especially when there was no reason to doubt it.

  3D movies . . . Pan shook her head to clear away the image intruding from the real world. She knew if she allowed that one in, the breach would permit a torrent to follow. And they had a job to do.

  ‘I’m glad you’re not dead as well,’ said Wei-Lin, though she didn’t look at Nate. ‘But I remember what happened on that island, how it seemed you’d died. Now I know you played a willing part in that fiction and that makes it difficult to trust you, whatever Pan says. What’s to stop you from taking all this straight back to The School?’

  Pan leaned forward, but Nate held up a hand.

  ‘You’re right, Wei-Lin,’ he whispered. It was as if he couldn’t quite believe his words were his own and wouldn’t be shared beyond the group. ‘You have no reason to trust me. All I can tell you is the truth as I know it. I’m as much a prisoner as you. More, in fact. Since I came back from the island, I’ve been kept in a cabin in the staff quarters, locked in all day and only allowed out at night.’ He smiled, his teeth a white flash in the dark. ‘I run at night,’ he said. ‘Sleep all day and run at night, along the wall and around the boundaries of the school grounds. It’s the only thing keeping me sane.’

  ‘You shot me,’ Jen pointed out. ‘On that tanker.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Nate. ‘I did. They put me in a helicopter, ordered me to bring you back. Tranquillise you. I didn’t have a choice.’

  Jen sniffed. ‘There’s always a choice,’ she said.

  ‘I could’ve refused. Then someone else would have done it and I would’ve stayed locked up, away from everything. I needed to see you guys, to talk to you if I could. What can I say, Jen? I’m sorry.’

  ‘So why would they choose you, Nate?’ asked Wei-Lin. ‘Of all people.’

  It was a good question. Pan stayed silent while Nate mulled it over.

  ‘I think they wanted to punish you, Pan,’ he said. ‘For all the trouble you’d caused. I think they wanted you to see me and despair.’

  No one spoke for a minute.

  ‘What cabin are you in?’ said Pan finally.

  ‘Cabin? Number One. The one closest to the wall. It’s a little apart from the others.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Pan. She stood and rubbed her hands over the seat of her pants. She was still soaked to the skin. ‘Tomorrow night, Nate. Meet us at nine-thirty by the sluice gate at the foot of the wall. If you want to fight at our side, that is.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘We’re going to bust this place wide open,’ said Jen. ‘We’re going over the wall, taking a boat and getting the hell outta here. Then we’re coming back with troops, and this place is history. Now, are you with us or not?’

  The hesitation was only slight, but it was there.

  He thinks it’s insane, thought Pan. He knows it’s a plan doomed to fail.

  ‘I’m in,’ he said.

  ‘Good,’ said Jen, getting to her feet. Pan, Sanjit and Wei-Lin followed suit. ‘We’ll see you tomorrow night.’

  The group walked off through the trees. Within seconds, Nate was lost to sight.

  They kept silent until well into the school grounds proper, the moon casting shards of light across the rocky terrain, the flames of a few torches dancing and weaving in the distance. It was twenty minutes until lights out and Pan needed a shower. The water wouldn’t be appreciably warmer than her drenched clothes, though her body heat had eased the icy chill. But she needed to wash the day away.

  ‘Why did you tell Nate that?’ asked Wei-Lin. She had brought herself level with Pan as they headed directly to the dormitory block.

  ‘The wrong plan, the wrong time and the wrong place?’ said Pan. ‘Because . . .’

  ‘Because she doesn’t trust him. Not a hundred percent.’ Sanjit had appeared on her other side. �
��And she wants to see what he’s going to do with that information.’

  Sanjit’s smart, thought Pan. And that intelligence is going to be vital to our chances of success.

  ‘You don’t trust him, but you’re giving him information anyway?’ Wei-Lin was confused.

  That was understandable. Pan was confused herself.

  ‘I do trust him,’ she replied. ‘I think.’ She paused. ‘Better safe than sorry,’ she added.

  Pan and Jen sat outside the shower block and waited for the showers to become free. Ten or eleven girls were shrieking in there, even though it was less than five minutes to lights out. It was a happy sound. How curious that happiness could bloom even under the most difficult circumstances. There was probably a moral in there somewhere, but Pan was too tired to think it through. She sat on the same rock she’d sat on before, Jen sharing it. There wasn’t much surface area, so Pan was forced to sit angled away from her friend. They both gazed out into darkness.

  ‘You got any sense how this is gonna work out, Pandora?’ said Jen.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I thought maybe you’d had a premonition. You know, like the one on the island. “Only six will leave this place.” Seeing the soldiers before we even knew they were there. Right each time.’ Jen sighed. ‘So I wondered if you’d figured out whether we’re gonna make it.’

  ‘I’ve thought about that,’ said Pan. ‘And I can’t see into the future, Jen. To be honest, I’m relieved. What I can do is scary enough.’

  ‘But . . .’

  ‘I think what happened was I tapped into Nate’s mind in some way, without even realising I was doing it. He knew only six would leave. He knew about the island and the soldiers there. I picked up on that. It seemed like I was seeing the future, but I wasn’t.’

  ‘Bummer,’ said Jen. ‘Makes sense, though.’

  ‘Definitely not a bummer,’ Pan replied. ‘How would I be feeling now if I knew none of us were going to survive? It’s better this way.’