The Territory

by Sarah Govett

  Chloe’s four years older than Raf and passed her TAA with flying colours. She’s now at an elite boarding school in the Second City. Raf said she’s doing pretty well there. I asked him if he saw a lot of her but then he seemed to get a bit defensive. He said she’d changed a lot since he was six and made it clear he wanted to talk about something else.

  I can’t quite make Raf out. Tonight he seemed like he was actually pretty clever. He knew stuff way beyond the syllabus. Like that energy can be both a particle and a wave, which makes no sense to me whatsoever but is clearly quite amazing. And he knew all these really useful ways to revise. He seemed a bit weirded out when I asked him about it. I mean, what’s the point when you can just upload? But he said his last school taught revision skills so I guess that explains things. I can’t imagine Hollets doing anything like that, but I guess it’s 85 per cent freakoid so everything is structured around their needs. Us Norms have just got to try and keep up.

  After studying, Raf actually walked me home. Like an old-fashioned gentleman. I don’t think even Jack would do something like that. I mean it’s not like it’s dangerous around here at all, in the sense of being stabbed or raped or anything. That’s the one upside of a massive police presence.

  When we reached my road I decided to do it. I told Raf about Daisy’s party at the weekend and asked if he wanted to come. I tried to sound casual. I failed dismally. There was what seemed like the world’s longest silence and I could feel this massive blush creeping up my face. I felt like crawling into the drain by the edge of the pavement I was so embarrassed.

  Then Raf started laughing.

  ‘Look at me,’ he said. ‘Look into my eyes,’ he continued in this fake magician’s voice waving his hands around in an intentionally malc way. I did, and drowned in pools of blue and green. ‘I would love to come to Daisy’s party with you.’

  ‘Not with me.’ I floundered. ‘I wasn’t asking you out or anything.’

  ‘Well, then I’d love to go to Daisy’s party without you.’

  And then he laughed again, hugged me and walked off. He didn’t look back. Which was lucky as I had this really malc grin on my face and must have looked like a right denser staring after him.

  Call-me-Marcus was on duty outside my apartment block. He smiled as he recognised me walking up the steps. ‘Good night then, love?’ he asked.

  ‘The best,’ I replied with a stupid smile on my face. ‘Just the best.’

  I wanted to call Daisy as soon as I got home to tell her all about it, but Mum and Dad were in the living room so I’d have had to practically sit next to them and they’d have heard EVERY word. It’s malc sharing a phone. Mum has a mobile for emergencies, but as a mere mortal without a special Ministry licence, I don’t get to touch one. And they’re bound to monitor calls so they’d know if I borrowed hers. I’ll tell Daisy first thing tomorrow.

  I’ve just realised why Jack was mad at me. I was supposed to be helping him revise Biology, the last of the three big science tests. He always does better if I study with him and explain it again. I hope he forgives me by tomorrow.

  The Biology test was pretty hard and I could see Jack sitting, head in hands, stylus hovering mid-air through the second section.

  As Mr Hanson called time and we all filed out of the classroom, I managed to weasel my way to Jack’s side and squeeze his hand. He stiffened and gave me a token nod, the sort of thing you’d do to a kid of a family friend you weren’t massively keen on but couldn’t just blatantly ignore.

  ‘I’m really sorry about last night,’ I mumbled. ‘I completely forgot and I feel terrible.’

  ‘Well that’s all OK then, isn’t it,’ Jack shot back. ‘You promise to help me. You don’t. I fail. But you’re sorry.’ He literally spat out the last word, like it was a particularly grim piece of mucor stew. ‘Do you want me to be a Fish, is that it?’ he continued, furiously. ‘’Cos that’s sure the way you’re acting. Get me out the way so there are no distractions from freakoid lover-boy?’ Jack’s right hand was now a fist and pulsing.

  I saw Raf out the corner of my eye, looking concerned and about to approach, so I desperately signalled him away with my eyes and tried a bit of telepathic channelling too. Raf swerved and kept walking. I got nothing in the way of telepathic reply though so that’s a ‘no’ to my having that particular talent.

  Just then Daisy waltzed over and wrapped one arm round each of us, joining us in an awkward sort of triangle.

  ‘Why are my best friends fighting?’ she demanded. I remained silent.

  ‘Noa broke her promise,’ Jack muttered.

  ‘Jack called Raf a freakoid,’ I countered lamely.

  Daisy rolled her eyes melodramatically. ‘So we’re in Kindergarten now are we? Jack – grow up. You need to learn to study by yourself. Noa – stop being a crap friend and by the way, Raf is a freakoid. And we’re having a party on Saturday that I’m not going to let you guys ruin. Now hug as if you mean it.’ And Daisy had us hugging again and again in the corridor and repeating, ‘I forgive you,’ until she was truly satisfied and we were all laughing. We got some odd looks and more than a couple of, ‘Uhhhh Fish losers,’ in the process.

  Knights don’t all wear shining armour. Some even wear police uniform.

  The day started badly. Mum announced that Uncle Pete might be coming to stay. Dad and I immediately let out massive groans. I am so embarrassed to be related to Uncle Pete. He’s supposed to be intelligent and everything, as he has some highish-up job in the Ministry doing something to do with statistics, but he has no social skills and offends absolutely everyone, me included. I mean he once told Jack that they had identified the ‘ginger gene’ and everyone who used a WombPod could choose to exclude it at embryo selection stage. ‘Which of course they all do!’ Guffaw, guffaw, guffaw. Idiot.

  I started ranting at Mum and Dad why couldn’t we have any decent relatives other than Ella (and sometimes, depending on mood, Auntie Vicki)? Dad said nothing but started putting on his coat to leave for work even though he didn’t actually have to go for another ten minutes and Mum shot evil looks at me.

  ‘What?’ I asked. Sometimes I think Mum forgets that I don’t have the same telepathic connection that she and Dad seem to.

  Her expression softened. ‘Sorry, love. It’s just that you know Dad’s really sensitive about any talk about relatives because of Uncle Max. It’s hard for him, you know.’

  I nodded but I don’t know really. I just know Dad had a brother who died before I was born and I’m not allowed to ask about it and if I ever try to, Dad just seems to go into standby mode.

  Anyway, this conversation, if you can call it that, meant I was late leaving for school and would have to run at least some of the way. I hurtled down the steps leading from our block on to the pavement and managed to run slap into the police witch who’d made me search through my garbage before. I mumbled an apology and thought there was no way she’d stop me this time as I had my Hollets uniform on and everything. I was wrong.

  ‘Please state your name.’ Her voice was ice.

  ‘Noa Blake,’ I replied, trying to avoid eye contact, trying to appear submissive.

  ‘Empty your bag,’ came her next command. I couldn’t believe it. Not again. Not when I clearly just had a school bag and was clearly running because I was clearly late for school. It wasn’t as if I was smuggling loads of subversive materials to some top secret Opposition meeting. But then it struck me. At the bottom of my bag was Jack’s scrunched-up picture. The one that could be ‘misinterpreted’. The one I’d forgotten to burn. My heart started to hammer and I was this terrible level of awake. Colours became more intense and all the energy in my body was buzzing around my legs. I opened my mouth but no words came out. It was like the dream in which I find out the TAA is actually a spoken test and I’ve turned mute so I fail. I’m terrible at hiding my feelings and a look of pure panic must have zipped across my face. The witch started to smile, as if she knew she was going to catch me with something t
errible and get to ruin my life.

  I was just deciding whether it’d be better to try and run or to eat the picture, when I saw the squat figure of Marcus approaching.

  ‘What’s up here, Officer Hicks?’ Marcus asked, nodding at me.

  ‘Standard stop and search procedures.’

  ‘We’ll let this one go, I think. She seems pretty harmless.’ And then he winked at me and tapped me on the shoulder with his baton. ‘Now off with you, love, and hurry. Don’t want you costing your family any rations, now do we.’

  And it’s the rare times when something like this happens, or I remember that the police have their share of Marcuses, that I think maybe the Territory isn’t such a bad place to live after all.

  I hate Hugo Barnes. I really, really hate him.

  We got our Biology test results back today. Mr Hanson read them out to the class.

  Jack got 45 per cent. He tried to look like he was OK about it and even did a hilarious fish impression, but I could tell he was pretty worried. I mean it’s now only five weeks till the TAA and there’s no way that 45 per cent is ever going to be a pass, even with a SAM.

  Daisy got 67 per cent, which was better than normal, but still not safe, and her mum always goes super-stressy at anything under 75 per cent. Raf got 83 per cent which was amazingly about what he’d got in the last Geography test that he uploaded for. Jack got really moody and said that Raf would just have uploaded after I left. I wish he’d give Raf a chance.

  Hugo got 89 per cent and was looking pretty smug (normal freakoid facial expression) until Mr Hanson read out my result. 92 per cent – in your face, Hugo Barnes!! Apparently Hugo (along with nearly every other freakoid) had done better than me in the recall fact section, but I’d whooped him in the ‘apply your knowledge’ part.

  You could tell immediately that Hugo was NOT HAPPY. His mean, ice-blue eyes narrowed and a muscle under his left cheekbone started to twitch. Amanda couldn’t help herself and reached over to stroke his arm, but Hugo shoved her away.

  Mr Hanson chose that moment to leave the room to photocopy some sheets.

  Hugo walked up to my bench, pushed my stuff onto the floor and called me a stupid, cheating Norm. This I could handle and I just laughed at him. I’d worked really hard for that test and had beaten him fair and square. This seemed to wind him up even more and that’s when it all went wrong. Hugo said I didn’t deserve to be at Hollets, that all Norms should be shipped off to the Wetlands at birth as they were like a sub-species. He said the Laboratory should never have employed my mum and that her decision to carry me, ‘like a fat whale’, and not to use a WombPod like every other government employee made her an embarrassment to the Territory. He said that he’d personally pay to have me and my ‘saggy’ mum shipped off to the Wetlands today.

  When he started on about my mum, that’s when I saw red. My mum’s one of the good guys. One of the very few properly, truly, good guys. Through her research she saves lives every day. I wanted to scream at him and hit him but I knew he’d like that, so I pretended like I wasn’t fazed and then did what I knew would provoke him most. I stood up slowly and jerked my arms around chanting, ‘My-name-is Hugo-Barnes-and-I-am-a-freakoid-robot-with-no-natural-intelligence.’

  Suddenly I noticed that the room had gone really quiet. I turned around to see Mr Daniels standing in the doorway. I could tell by his expression that he’d seen everything. I’ve got to go and see him in his office on Monday.

  He said nothing to Hugo of course.

  I hate Hugo Barnes.

  I guess we should have known that they’d find out about Daisy’s party. We’d been inviting other Norms (and the occasional OK freakoid such as Barnaby) in the lunch hall and they must have overheard or something.

  I find it hard to believe that I was ever friends with Amanda or that Jack and Hugo used to be pretty close at junior school. Hugo used to play football with Jack basically every Sunday morning and Amanda even came to my first sleepover. My friendship with Amanda, and Jack’s with Hugo, all changed when we got to ten. They suddenly stopped wanting anything to do with us and we didn’t exactly want to hang out with them either as they became super annoying. Mum said Amanda just hit puberty early. And I know she became absurdly guy-orientated, but it was more than that. She only liked freakoids; started to listen in class; blanked me. Now they’re so bloody superior and they just have to wreck everything.

  Anyway, about 9pm the party was starting to get fun and people were actually dancing in the lounge. We’d moved the sofas to the edge of the room so there was a kind of dance floor and Daisy had put little tealights all along the mantelpiece to create a ‘romantic’ atmosphere. I think she thought it might help me to get it properly together with Raf! Jack was in a really good mood and he’s hilarious when he dances as he’s so big. A dance move that you might not notice in anyone else is magnified by his massive body into something totally absurd. He kept pulling this one particular move – sort of hammering with his right hand and bending his knees in time with the music. He looked like a genuine denser. Then he kept on trying to dance with me and hook his arm round my waist, but it didn’t feel right and I remained glued to a sofa at the edge.

  ‘Why are you being off with me?’ he asked, but I didn’t feel like having THAT conversation so I pretended I was hungry and went to eat some crisps I really wasn’t in the mood for.

  My eyes kept returning to the front door, my heart getting a weird lame flutter every time someone new walked in. The flutter turned manic when Raf finally turned up just after 9pm. He was wearing this yellow shirt that would have looked malc on anyone else but somehow looked really cool on him. Jack must have seen my reaction as he said, ‘Oh, OK, I get it. I see,’ before stomping off. I was torn between approaching Raf and following Jack when the doorbell rang one more time.

  Daisy, euphoric from dancing and general flirting, sprang up to open the door, her dazzling hostess smile at the ready. The smile vanished and I knew something was wrong.

  Hugo and Quentin barged in. Here comes trouble, we all thought, but they were acting nice. Worryingly nice. They’d brought loads of bottles of vodka with them and without it seeming like they had any sort of agenda, the vodka was made into cocktails and before long everyone was pretty hammered.

  I’d only had two drinks but was already feeling a bit out of it. I remember edging round one side of the sofa to get back to where Raf was, when Hugo sneaked round the other side. Quentin blocked the way back and I was caught in an evil freakoid sandwich. Quentin started to stroke my arm in a pretty sleazy way and Hugo just watched and laughed as if he was properly enjoying it, but not in a fancying me way, more in a ‘I like to watch her suffer’ way.

  ‘Stop it,’ I hissed. I didn’t want Raf, or Jack for that matter, to clock what was going on, as I knew there’d just be a massive fight and things would get out of hand.

  Quentin stayed put. His hand kept moving, roughly now. He kept on trying to put it down the V of my top.

  ‘Get your pervy hand off me.’ I pushed him away.

  ‘Stop pretending you don’t like it,’ laughed Hugo. ‘Have another drink. Everyone knows Norms are easy. Why do you think we came to this malc party?’

  Quentin grabbed my wrists, pinning them behind my back with one of his massive hands.

  ‘Get off!’ I shouted, a lot louder this time. Everyone in the room stared at us.

  I must have gone a bit trancey. I was brought back into the room with a start at the THUMP as someone’s head hit the wall. I turned to see Raf trying to tackle Hugo. His face looked calm but his eyes were blue and green ice. Hugo had the weight advantage though so Raf kept on being thrown to the floor and the best he could manage was to jump onto Hugo’s back and end up having a kind of piggy back. The absurdity of it made me giggle in spite of myself. That is, until I saw Jack, his face distilled anger, wrenching Quentin’s arms behind his back as he repeated slammed his head against the wall. I don’t know if he’d broken Quentin’s nose, but blood was st
reaming out of it and there was a trail, like train tracks, down the pale green wallpaper.

  ‘Jack, stop!’ Daisy shouted, seeing it at the same time. ‘He’s not worth it.’

  We both rushed over to Jack and tried to pull him off Quentin. It was like ants trying to stop a truck. I tried again, grabbing Jack’s left arm and he instinctively punched back hard, throwing me off. My head seemed to crunch as I hit the edge of the coffee table. The metallic taste of blood in my mouth. Then blackness.

  People with ‘self-inflicted’ injuries don’t get to go to hospital. Can’t even see a doctor. Well, I guess you could see a private one, but even if you could afford that, there’d still be records. Carelessness and risk-taking are BAD personality traits. Show a lack of judgement. As does mixing with violent citizens. So, even though you’re a victim, you’re not worth saving. Getting hurt at a party, doesn’t matter whose fault it was, counts as ‘self-inflicted’. Guess the top Ministry peeps didn’t get many invitations when they were young.

  Apparently I blacked out as soon as I’d hit the table. Daisy had called Mum and Dad immediately. She knew an ambulance wouldn’t come and that if she called one, we’d probably both be put under surveillance.

  Everyone apart from Raf, Daisy and Jack had left when they arrived. Daisy said Dad took one look at my head and Jack’s hand and told him to, ‘Get out, while you still can.’ I can’t quite believe it. Dad’s a big fan of Jack’s. But I suppose he did (accidentally) deck his baby girl. Then Dad lifted me over his shoulder ‘like a sack of potatoes’ (thanks Daisy – maybe like ‘sleeping beauty’ would have been nicer!) and carried me all the way home.

  Mum’s science training and medical supplies came in useful. She gave me something for the pain, bathed the cut (luckily above the hairline so I won’t get a grimbo face scar) and kept me awake to check it hadn’t hurt my brain and turned me into a genuine denser. I actually began to enjoy it. I felt the most secure and cocooned I had for ages. Felt the stresses of the world and the endless revision and the exam just slip away. I think the drugs were pretty strong.