Excuses. More excuses.
“The drug – tronk – is it still being used today?”
“I can’t answer that.”
I snort. “That’s a yes then. But why would you keep feeding it to them? When you know what it’s doing? The papers I found just mention the possibility of long-term side effects. There must have been studies done since then …”
My father nods. “There’s an ongoing monitoring program at the labs. And yes, there has been evidence that co-tronkpretine has a negative impact on brain function over time.”
I try not to think about what goes on at the labs. “So why hasn’t it been banned?”
“It has been brought up occasionally. I even raised it myself, ten years ago, and put a motion forward that we should consider banning it and focus on engineering better quality food.”
“And?”
“The President pulled me to one side and told me that if I didn’t withdraw the motion, I would be out of a job. I suspect that anyone else who’s raised objections got a similar response. There isn’t enough real food to feed everyone. And the two businesses who control the factory-produced food have significant influence over the government.”
This is news to me. “What do you mean?”
My father sighs. “I’ve told you all along, Trey, there are too many pieces of the puzzle you’re not aware of. You think of our society as simple, with simple problems and solutions, but it’s more like a multi-layered web: when you break one strand, you don’t know what the repercussions will be. There are two companies who deal with the production of factory food. They make everything apart from the government rations. And they’re the biggest employers in this city. They are more powerful than anyone. Even the government.” He looks down at his hands twisting in his lap. “The President has to keep them sweet. So the government rations citizens are given are … basic, to make people want to buy the better quality food that’s for sale.”
“But that’s blackmail!” Ella’s face is a picture of shock.
“Well, I’m not sure that word would go down too well with the President, but you’re correct.” My father smiles wryly. “And it certainly doesn’t help Outsiders. But when they have the power to cut off the food supply to the city …” He spreads his hands. “What can we do?”
“Open up the borders,” I say slowly. “Why can’t we open up the borders to trade with other countries again? I know we screwed them over by not warning them of the Great Flood but that was years ago.”
“I honestly don’t know, Trey. Foreign affairs weren’t really discussed at cabinet meetings. But if we go to them, we need to be in a position of strength, not begging for aid. The real solution would be a time-bound strategy to take down the Wall and support Outsiders to improve their prospects. But no government is brave enough to commit to that.”
“Why not?” I ask.
“Because we are a democracy.” He blows out a breath. “Outsiders may outnumber Insiders ten to one, but they don’t vote. If the government set out such a plan there would be a revolt. Many people – important people – wouldn’t stand for it. And I’m afraid they’re more influential than a handful of Outsiders.”
I press my palms into my forehead. “So how is anything ever going to change?”
“I gave up asking myself that a long time ago.”
We sit in silence. Finally, Ella speaks. “I don’t think all Insiders would be happy if they knew this. Your generation perhaps, Father, but not ours. There’s so much hidden under the surface of what we’re told … so many lies.”
My heart leaps and I smile at her. “Exactly! And you’re shown nothing in here of what really happens Outside. If people knew about the Metz attacks … that they murder children, babies, surely they couldn’t ignore that?”
My father gives me a sad look and the hope that Ella’s comment inspired deflates like a popped balloon. “Insiders are just as scared of the Metz as Outsiders, Trey. And just having the conversation we’re having is enough to get us all dragged off for a life of hard labour on the Farms.” He glances up at the wall behind us.
Are they really watching us? Listening to us, here?
I lower my voice. “So if the Metz didn’t exist, people might act?”
“What are you thinking, Trey?” Ella sounds troubled. “You can’t get rid of the Metz. No one can.”
“Of course not.” My mind races. I lick my dry lips. “W-who’s in charge of them anyway?”
“In charge of who?”
“The Metz. There must be a commander in charge. Or a government minister?”
My father gives me a suspicious glance. “Why do you want to know?”
I look down at my hands. “Just curious. They’ve been chasing me for weeks. No one knows anything about them. Even whether they’re human or … well, something else. But they seem to behave as a pack, as if there’s a central person controlling all their moves. Like in a VR game or something.”
“That’s very perceptive, Trey.” He looks impressed and a rare shiver of pride runs through me. “There are different layers of command, of course, but ultimately they lead back to the Metz Commander. He reports to the Secretary of State.”
“I’ve never heard of the Metz Commander,” Ella says.
“You won’t have done. He stays out of the spotlight. Completely out. Even when I was in charge of some of the Metz operations, I didn’t get to meet him. Only the Secretary of State and the President himself know who he is.”
“You were in charge of Metz operations?” Another thing I didn’t know about my father’s work. But then, I guess I had never asked.
“A long time ago. I worked in the department when I was a junior minister. Though I think things are run differently now.” He frowns. “Back then, ministerial authorization was required for any operation of significance. Now, I believe the Metz have a lot more autonomy. And the Metz Commander more power.”
“So, if no one knows who he is, I guess he must live in the compound then?” I say slowly.
My father gives me a sharp glance. “What do you know about the compound?”
I shrug. “Only that it’s more heavily guarded than the government headquarters.”
“That it is. And don’t get any ideas about trying to break in, Trey. At some point, your luck is going to run out.” His shoulders sag and he seems even older. “Please, just look after yourself. We can’t take any more …”
Guilt twists my stomach as he trails off.
At some point, your luck is going to run out.
9
Aleesha
I look up as the gate to Abby’s back yard swings open. Trey walks through and carefully closes the gate behind him. He turns and freezes when he sees me.
His face is a carousel of changing emotions. Delight. Relief. Annoyance. Wariness. I get to my feet, my backside cold and numb from having sat too long on the stone step outside Abby’s kitchen door. It’s been two days since I stormed off and left him in the street. Two days of waiting for him to come and find me to apologize. Two days before I realized that he wouldn’t know where to start looking.
“Uh … you’re here …” His voice trails off.
I look down at my hands. They’re gripped together, my fingers twisting around one another, clenching and unclenching.
Come on. This doesn’t have to be hard.
I take a step toward him. “I was just coming to see Abby. Check that the kids got back to their father okay.”
Trey glances away. “Sure.”
“Well, I’ll be going.” My feet carry me toward the back gate.
No! You came here to apologize. Don’t wimp out now.
I pause and search for something to say. Anything to put off the moment. “You found your way back here okay, then? The other day?”
I wince inwardly.
Trey nods. “I’m getting to know some of the streets at least.” He reaches out a hand, then pauses and lets it fall back to his side. “Look, I’m—”
&nb
sp; “You’re getting to know your way around pretty good,” I interrupt. Why? Why interrupt? Why just not let him speak? “Umm … for an Insider.”
That’s it, make it worse why don’t you?
There’s a silence. I clear my throat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound like that.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. When I open them, Trey is smiling. “It’s okay,” he says with a shrug. “I am still an Insider. Though in time, maybe I’ll become a hybrid.”
“A hybrid?”
“A mix of the two. Like you, right? Your mother was an Insider, so you’re at least part Insider, but you’ve spent all your life out here, which makes you an equal part Outsider.”
“Hmm.” I hadn’t thought of it like that. Hybrid. I turn the new word over in my mind.
We fall into silence. Trey takes a step forward and opens his mouth as if to speak, but then closes it again. We’re only a few paces apart now. One more step from each of us and we would be close enough to touch.
You were the one who left him. You were the one in the wrong.
“I—”
“I’m …” He blushes. “You first.”
Hesitantly, I step toward him and take a deep breath. “I’m sorry about the other day. I shouldn’t have stormed off on you like that. Or shouted at you. I was just upset, because of what happened in Rose Square. And the kids …”
I stare at the worn stone underfoot. A solitary weed is trying to force itself up through a crack.
“I’m sorry too,” Trey says quietly. “I shouldn’t have had a go at you. I still think what Katya did – taking that woman’s chip – was wrong, but I can also see why she might think it necessary.”
I glance up at him, but he’s staring down at the weed too. “So … friends again, then?”
He lifts his head and smiles at me. My stomach flutters. “Friends.”
I let out a sigh of relief and smile weakly. “Great.”
Another awkward silence.
“Has Abby gone out?” Trey asks finally.
“N-no. She’s in there with Bryn. I didn’t want to interrupt them. It sounded like they were having a bit of a heart to heart.”
Trey raises an eyebrow. “You mean? Um …” He blushes again.
I smile. “No, they weren’t kissing or anything. But from what I could hear through the door, I got the impression they didn’t want to be interrupted. They definitely like each other though, right?”
“I think so. But Bryn’s as stubborn as an ass, and I think Abby’s worried he’ll run off again if she gets too close.”
“As stubborn as a what?” Did I just hear that correctly?
Trey laughs. “An ass. It’s a kind of donkey, I think. Though really, it’s just a phrase. A figure of speech. Anyway, Abby told me that they’d had a thing years ago. But then Bryn met my mother and fell in love with her instead …” The smile falls from his face. “If only he hadn’t. He and Abby might have had their own family. It’s obvious she wanted one – she loves kids. And my parents would have had a normal family too. Without me messing things up.”
There’s a trace of bitterness in his final words and I reach out to touch his arm. “Hey, you can’t change what’s happened. Besides, I can’t see Bryn being the sort of person to settle down. If it hadn’t have been your mother, it would have been someone else.”
He sighs heavily. “I guess so. So, what have you been up to anyway? Any news on the rogue officer?”
“Not exactly.” I smile. “But I’ve managed to find out more about the Metz.”
We perch on Abby’s back step and I update Trey on my conversation with Giles.
“The albino guy? You think he was a Metz officer?” Trey stares at me and I can almost read his thoughts.
“Not an officer, no. He’s not big enough. But he must have had something to do with them to know how they’re controlled.”
“By the Commander …” Trey’s voice trails off and he stares out across the yard.
“The Commander?”
“The person who controls the Metz.” Trey turns to look at me. “I went to find my father.” He hesitates for a second and a flash of pain crosses his face. “He said it’s all secret. No one in government really knows what the Metz get up to. Only the Secretary of State and the President himself know who the Commander is. Which is kind of odd, don’t you think? That the cabinet don’t insist on knowing more?”
Not if they don’t want to know. But I don’t say this. He’ll think I’m just being cynical again.
“How is your father?” I ask cautiously.
“Not good.” That flash of pain again. “H-he looks as if he’s aged fifty years. They’re having to leave their apartment and move to a smaller one. They can’t afford it anymore with his drop in wages. But it’s more than that. He just seems … lost. Like he’s given up on everything. And Ella … well, she’s still Ella, but I can tell she’s worried about him too.”
“Ella’s your sister, right?”
Trey nods. “Well, one of them. The one I grew up with. Anabel’s my older sister – the one I didn’t know existed.”
It strikes me then what Trey’s gone through in the past few weeks. He’s been hunted by the Metz for being an illegal citizen, found out that his father isn’t his father, and his actual father is a commitment-phobic spy, that he has a sister he never knew existed and had a rather rapid introduction to the world Outside the Wall. And despite all that, he chose to risk his life and stay here rather than leave and go back to his old life.
“I—”
The door slams open behind us. “What are you two doing here?” Bryn looms over us.
I stand and stretch. “Nothing.”
“Just chatting,” Trey says at the same time.
Bryn looks at us suspiciously. “Well, come in then. There’s no need to freeze your butts off out here.”
He sounds positively jovial – for Bryn.
“Would you like tea?” Abby smiles at us as we walk into the kitchen, her hand poised over the kettle. Her dark hair is brushed neatly back from her face, rather than being messily pulled into her usual braid, and her skin glows in the warm light of the lamp.
Well, something’s changed.
“Sure, tea would be great,” Trey says, walking over to sit down at the table. I join him and nod at Abby when she raises her eyebrows in my direction.
“The children got back to their father. There’s a neighbour he mentioned who knows the … situation and is happy to help out.”
It feels as though a weight has lifted from my shoulders; one I didn’t know I was carrying. “Thanks, Abby.” I smile at her. “I went to Underwood Road, to see if I could find their house, but I didn’t want to ask around, in case, well … you know.” In case I gave them away.
“Their father came back yesterday. He left this for you.” She reaches into a cupboard and places an apple in front of me. A real apple. I pick it up and run my fingers over its smooth skin. There are a few wrinkles and it’s slightly soft, but it still has that wonderful sweet smell.
It must have cost him a fortune. And when he needs all the money he can get for the kids.
The thought causes tears to prick at my eyes, though I’m not sure why.
“You’re supposed to eat it, not inhale it.” Bryn sounds amused. I open my eyes and catch him staring at me.
“Yeah, sure.” I almost drop the apple back on the table.
“Here you go. If you want to eat it now, that is.” Abby slides a knife across the table to me.
My stomach definitely wants to eat it. It’s gurgling away as if there’s a four-course meal in front of me, not one apple. Carefully I cut the apple into quarters and place one in front of everyone. It takes a lot of willpower.
“No, Aleesha, it’s yours.” Abby tries to push her portion back, but I stop her.
“Eat it. It’s not often we get fruit out here, right?” I lift my quarter up but they’re still staring at me and suddenly my stomach feels tight and
uncomfortable and not like it wants to eat at all. “Please,” I whisper. “I don’t often get to give something back.”
I stare down at the table so they can’t see my cheeks flush.
“Thank you,” Trey says quietly. I hear the crunch as he takes a bite. “Mmm, it’s delicious. We had apple trees at the house in Wales, you know.”
I appreciate his attempt to move the conversation on. Abby picks up on it, asking what they did with them, and Trey talks about apple cakes and juice and something called cider until everyone’s eyes are off me and I can eat my apple in peace.
I lick the last of the sweet juice off my fingers, trying to memorize the taste.
“Have you seen anything of your rogue officer, Aleesha?” Bryn’s voice breaks into my thoughts. I don’t bother asking how he knows. Trey must have told him. Or Katya, perhaps.
“No.” I hesitate. “Though I managed to find out some more about how the Metz work.”
“Oh?”
I repeat what I told Trey on the step outside. Bryn’s forehead furrows and he stares at the wall behind me, seemingly lost in thought.
“Interesting,” he says finally. “Very interesting.” He turns to me. “And you don’t know anything more about this Giles fellow? Who he is or where he comes from?”
I shake my head. “There are rumours about him in Four. That he’s an outcast from Inside. A mutant. That something went wrong with his genetic enhancements.”
Bryn snorts. “What, because he’s an albino? That’s just a chance occurrence – it’s a genetic abnormality, but a natural one. You come across a few of them in every country.”
“The poor man,” Abby says. “People here wouldn’t understand that.”
“Of course, because you have no understanding of the world beyond Britannia. No communication with other people or cultures …” He checks himself and smiles wryly. “Sorry, you’ll get me started again.”
“What I don’t understand,” I say slowly, “is how this chip thing works. Is it like the chips in your arm? But how can it be used to make you forgot what you’ve done? Or to stop you feeling?”
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