by Fiona Shaw
–Jake … Poacher said, and Davie whispered, –Dog boy.
–Go on, Jake, Swift said, and she made a circle on her palm, and placed the point inside.
Jake pressed the green indentation again.
‘You know we’re scientists. You know we work at the Co-Labs. Originally we were developing a treatment for cancer: a tiny machine called a nanorobot that could combat leukaemia. When the Coalition realized what our technology could do, they ordered us to stop our work on cancer. Instead they made us work on something else, and they made us sign the Official Secrets Act so we couldn’t speak to anybody about what we were doing. But we’re going to tell you now …’
Jake heard it, the catch in her voice. Like she was just taking a breath, but she wasn’t. After a moment there was the sound of papers rustling, and she cleared her throat and went on.
‘The Coalition made us work on a vaccine to combat the virus. Once it was successfully trialled, the Coalition said they would make sure every English citizen got the vaccine for free. It would contain a nano-microchip, and it would protect us all. A government looking after its people. That’s what everyone would think.’
His mum cleared her voice again, and when she went on, her voice sounded higher, like it was hard to speak.
‘But when we began our work, we realized that there isn’t any virus. It’s all made up. A made-up story by the Coalition. There’s no danger in the countryside from any infected animal, and we’re in no danger from any living thing in this country, except ourselves. The Coalition has made up a pretend virus, so they can invent a pretend vaccine. Vacplus, they’re calling it.’
His mum stopped and just whispered, Jake heard her say, ‘I can’t, Jonny.’ There was a slight scuffle in the sound, and the sound of papers, and then his dad’s voice.
‘So if there’s no virus, Jakey, you may be asking, well then, what’s Vacplus for? And why does the Coalition still want to inject a nano-microchip into us all? What’s it for? What’s it to protect us all against? And you might be asking why your parents agreed to carry on developing it.
‘Well, it’s not for curing anything. But at first we believed them when they told us that its primary use would be to deliver medication, to eliminate illness, by changing the expression of the genetic structure, and all that good stuff. And it could be used to do that. That’s the kind of research we had been doing into cancer. But we know now that’s not what the Coalition really want to do with it. They don’t want to use it to save people’s lives; they want to use it to control people’s lives. Control how we behave, and even to shut people down.
‘Here’s why they want to inject everybody. Every single one of us. Vacplus will do everything the old hub chip does, but a thousand times better. But unlike the hub chip, you won’t be able to get rid of it. It’s a non-removable tracking system, telling the Coalition where you are, what you’re doing, how you’re feeling. But it’s more than that. With Vacplus, the Coalition will be able to decide who becomes ill, and who doesn’t. Who can have children and who can’t. They’ll be able to control where you live and how you live.
‘In a year from now it will be ready to trial. And once it’s deemed safe, then everyone in England will be injected. And once it’s inside you, you’ll never get it out. It’ll go with you to the grave. They told us we were developing something that would be life-giving. But our fear is that they’ll use it to deliver death.’
Jake felt numb. It was too much to take in. But his dad’s voice went on.
‘There isn’t time to tell you how we came to know this. Or how we came to realize it wasn’t going to be used for good. We haven’t been too good at keeping that quiet. Maybe we should have played along better. But after we’d begun working on this, Jakey, our lives got a whole lot more dangerous …’
Jake shook his head. No. He didn’t want this. They were dead already and now he could hear them and they sounded as alive as the people outside this shed. But they weren’t. They were dead, and they were telling him it was no accident. He put his hands around his head. He couldn’t bear to hear his dad’s voice, and he couldn’t bear for it to stop.
His dad’s voice went on explaining.
‘The line between curing and controlling is a fine one. By the time we realized what we were doing for the Coalition, we’d stepped over it. We tried to step back, but by now we’ll have paid for that with our lives. An “accident” of some kind, probably.’
There was a pause, and his dad cleared his throat. Jake wondered where they’d recorded this. At work, in the Co-Labs? At home? Had he been sleeping upstairs when they made this? In the pause, he heard his mum’s voice. Not the words, just the sounds, very quiet. His heart hurt in his chest, and he crossed his arms around himself. Then his dad began again, speaking the terrible words in his calmest, saddest voice, but speaking now in broken phrases, like it was hard to get the words out.
‘If you’re listening to this, then it may be too late … to stop it. If you’ve been injected, then it is too late. But … if they haven’t started yet … then the only way to stop them will be to destroy the Co-Labs. So, Jakey … Jakey, we’re asking you to do what we’ve failed to. Get this disc out of England. English people must be told. They must know what the Coalition is doing, and then maybe—’
–No! Jake’s voice was a scream. He couldn’t bear it any longer. –Stop! He stabbed at the red indentation to turn it off, but his hands were shaking and he couldn’t make it work.
–Give me, Davie said, and he took the disc. He stilled the voices and put the disc back in Jake’s hand.
Jake was shaking and he couldn’t stop. His parents were dead, but they were speaking to him, and he wanted to listen to their voices for ever. But what they were telling him was worse than anything he’d imagined.
Poacher had a hand on his shoulder, and Ollie was rubbing his back between his shoulder blades. But it was Aliya who knelt down in front of him and took his hand. Then he shook more and more, so his teeth chattered.
–An unfortunate incident? he said to her.
She nodded, and he could see her eyes were full of tears. –I’m so sorry, Jake, she said, and she cried for him, the tears he couldn’t cry himself.
Everything was muffled and there was a ringing noise in his ears. He let them help him down on to the floor, and he let them put oilskins over him, because he was still shaking. He let them feed him some hot, sweet tea. He didn’t know what to do with his arms, with his eyes. He didn’t know what to say. He wanted Jet. He needed Jet. But Jet was fighting his own battle.
Aliya sat down in the other corner. He saw her wipe her eyes.
–What’re you crying about? He could hear that his voice was harsh, but it was like someone else was speaking his words.
–I’m sorry, she said.
–Wasn’t you that killed them. It was your mother.
He saw her flinch. He knew his words were knives and he didn’t care. His parents were dead in their graves and hers were still alive.
Her mother had killed his mother.
–Would the Minister for Borders say sorry, if she was here?
Aliya had her hands over her ears, her knees up to her chest. She was silent.
–Stop it, Jake. Poacher’s voice.
–Would she say it? Jake said. He knew he was shouting, but he couldn’t help himself. –Would she?
–I said stop. Poacher’s hand was pressed over Jake’s mouth, damming his words. –I ain’t one fer speeches, but you need one, so listen up. You’re in shock an’ yer gonna say things cos o’ that. But Aliya, she’s an Outwalker now. The gang needs her and she’s been brave, just like you have. You didn’t make your parents into scientists and she didn’t make her mum into what she is. But you both got to live with what they’ve done, an’ it’s hard fer her too.
Poacher took his hand away and Jake curled down on to the floor. His body felt like iron. Cold and hard and heavy. Around him, the others sorted out floor space and coverings.
All those people outside this shed on their holidays, Jake thought: they’d be shocked if they could see inside. A gang of kids, grubby, dog-tired, and in clothes that were so dirty; they’d likely walk away, given half a chance. And all those holidaymakers would be even more shocked if they knew these kids were planning to cross the border and leave England tonight.
But the most shocking thing of the lot, Jake reckoned they wouldn’t believe. The most shocking thing was that the Coalition, their caring government, didn’t care about them at all. Not only that, but it might even want to kill them off, if they didn’t fit the Coalition’s picture.
His dad’s words, from that breakfast time: You are nothing to the Coalition, Jake.
He clenched his fist. Now he could feel the disc in his palm. He’d forgotten it was there. Around him, the gang was quiet, sleep coming over them like a flood. Only Poacher sat up awake, on watch.
Cass slept with the collar beside her. Gently Jake lifted it away. He turned it wrong way out and set the disc back into the hole in the leather: no glue this time, but it seemed tight enough. He wound the collar round his wrist again and fastened the buckle, feeling the leather grow warm against his skin.
He looked across at Aliya’s sleeping face. She looked like a child, and only a child, in this sleep. He felt the truth of Poacher’s words, and a blush of shame rushed to his face. She’d been as brave as him. And she’d lost her mother too. A different loss. A different pain, but a terrible one.
–I’m sorry, Aliya, he whispered.
Forty-one
Jake was awake when the rap on the door came – five times, like Monster said.
Poacher opened the door to a very tall man. From where Jake lay, he seemed to be all elbows and knees, and he was dressed in strange clothes. Checked trousers that only came to his knees, then long, hairy socks, and a yellow tie and a checked waistcoat, and a cap on his head.
–They’re hunting for you, the tall man said. –Roadblocks everywhere. So come quickly, and quietly.
Jake had woken Aliya, crouched down beside her, taken her hand. He’d said: –You lost your mum too. I’m sorry. Then before she could say anything, he’d gone to wake Ollie.
Now it was nearly dark, a fine drizzle falling. The tall man led the way, and the gang stumbled behind him. More than once Jake tripped, slipping on rocks and sinking into boggy ground.
–Half a mile, the tall man had said, –then we’ll reach my Jeep. The man spoke out of the back of his throat, like someone in one of Jake’s mum’s old black and white films. It was quite hard to understand him.
–Upper-class, Aliya whispered to him.
They were going to Berwick. That’s what the tall man told them. Berwick was two miles from the border, but they would get on a boat there and cross by sea, not by land. And when they got into Scotland, they were to phone a number, which he made them all memorize and swear not to tell anyone. The person who replied would help them.
–Aren’t there smugglers in Berwick? Aliya said.
–An awful lot of them, yes, the man said as they climbed into the Jeep. –Along Pier Road. They’re jolly dangerous. Knifings and such. But I’m taking you to a lady friend. She’s a good egg.
Jammed up against the Jeep window, Jake watched the dark and wondered what a good egg was. He guessed it meant someone you liked. The tall man drove without headlights over the sand and the Jeep bucked and bounced.
They were very near the border, only a few miles left to go, but Jake felt so weary, he didn’t care. He’d slept for a while in the shed, but something had woken him, a sleep-shout, or a bird maybe, and he hadn’t been able to sleep again. He seemed to have been journeying for ever, since that day he escaped from the Home Academy, and for so long the border had been so far away that it’d seemed like a mirage. Now it was so close, he didn’t know if he believed escape was possible any more. Maybe his grandparents were dead. Maybe Scotland would be as terrible as England. And what about the task he had now, the task his parents had given him? Jake shook his head. It didn’t seem believable. It wasn’t like real life, it was like something you saw in old films. And what if Scottish people didn’t believe them, about the nano-microchip and all the dead lowlifers?
He rubbed a finger over Jet’s collar. What about Jet? He shook the thought away. All the questions, all the grief, all the unknowing overwhelmed him, and silently, into the Jeep’s cold hard window, he wept for helplessness.
The Jeep swerved to the left and came to a stop. They’d been driving, Jake guessed, for nearly half an hour.
–We’re on roads from here, the tall man said. –Much more dangerous. There are a couple of tarps under your feet. Spread them out. Get underneath, as low as you can, and make sure you’re fully covered.
The Jeep drove on. It was hot and smelly and uncomfortable. The tarps smelled of fish worse than the boat shed. In the dark, Jake couldn’t see anybody else’s face, and nobody spoke. But he could sense their fear and he knew his own.
A knee pressed into his back and someone was lying on his leg. Davie was tapping, tapping, all his nerves in his fingers. Jake knew it helped him stay calm, but it made Jake more nervous. He didn’t dare say anything, though, and he didn’t dare move.
Suddenly the Jeep slammed on its brakes and everyone was thrown forward. The tall man said quietly to them: –Roadblock. Keep covered, and don’t make a sound.
Outside, voices shouted something. The sound of a window buzzing down.
–Good evening, gentlemen. The tall man sounded even posher now, like the King, even. –Doing a good job here.
–Purpose of your journey, sir? The reply was curt.
–A little business to transact, Jake heard the tall man say. –Personal business.
–Destination?
–Just to Berwick.
–We’ll need to see inside your vehicle, sir, the voice said, and Jake saw flickers of torch beam, prying at the edges of the tarpaulin.
–What are you looking for? The tall man’s voice sounded curious, but not worried.
–Please open up your vehicle, the voice said.
Jake tried to breathe, but there was a tightness in his chest. –Let us not be caught, he pleaded. –Let us not be caught.
–I would rather not disclose whom I have in here, the tall man said.
Jake heard Ollie stifle a gasp. Was the man going to betray them all?
–Matter of national security, sir. I’m sure you understand, the hubber said. –ID please. And open up your vehicle. The tall man lowered his voice, and Jake imagined the hubber crouching down at the window to hear.
–Do you know who I am? I guarantee that if you insist on this, my friend, then you will live out the rest of your working life scrubbing the latrines. My journey too is a matter of national security. The person I am transporting must remain unseen, for your sake as well as hers. Were you to see her, I regret to say it would be the end of your career. The Coalition would regard you as a liability henceforth, and could not risk leaving you in post. A bit of a speech, but do you understand me?
Jake could still see the torch beam playing along the edges of the tarpaulin. –Sorry, sir. Though he didn’t sound it. –Got my orders. ID please. And open up.
–As you wish. Jake heard the tall man rummage for something.
What should they do, when the hubber found them? Run? Or give up finally? Jake held his breath.
> –I’ll need yours too, of course, the tall man said, –so I can explain my failure. My superiors in Whitehall will want your name. I report directly to the Minister for Borders, Mrs Ina Khan. I’m sure you understand.
Jake heard Aliya’s gasp. Her mother. Of course, it would be her mother.
The hubber was silent. Jake could feel the gang around him, all of them tense, waiting. Then the hubber’s voice again but loud now, commanding.
–Hurry up, please. Drive on. And he slammed his hand twice on the roof of the Jeep. It sounded like a gun going off.
He was letting them past!
The tall man started the engine again and they were through the roadblock and driving on.
–Nice one, Davie said. –That told him.
–Glad to be of service, the tall man said.
Street lights filtered under the tarpaulin and Jake guessed they were driving into the town. The Jeep was going slowly, turning now left, now right, and turning again, until at last they came to a stop.
–Don’t move yet, the tall man said. –People coming.
The engine ticked and the gang waited. Jake heard the swish of cars going past, then the sound of people laughing. Grown-up laughter, and he remembered his parents sitting in the kitchen with some beer and laughing with friends. He’d go in, pretending he wanted a drink of water. It seemed to him, lying under that tarpaulin, that it was a different boy who’d opened that door to laughter. The boy lying under this tarpaulin would never be that child again. He wasn’t a grown-up, but he’d gone beyond his childhood since his parents died.
The laughter came closer, passed by, died away. But into the silence came another noise. Sirens. And the blare of a tannoy.
Hubbers.
The noise was getting louder. They were coming this way.
–Up! Get up! Fear was in the tall man’s voice. The gang scrambled up from under the tarpaulin, stiff and aching.
–Listen, he said. They’ll be here in a minute. Down that street, about fifty yards, number sixty-nine. Knock on the door. A woman will answer, a friend of mine. You can trust her. She’s got a yacht. She’ll take you over the border. She’s very rich, so nobody suspects her.