Astra

by Naomi Foyle

  Dr Blesserson and the two Inspectors stood up and clapped vigorously, raising their hands above their heads. They were sky-clad except for their armbands, hydrobelts and boots. Wearing shorts or a dhoti in Or, Astra realised, as she and everyone in the tent got to their feet, would have been a big mistake. Dr Blesserson had come to Or to attack his own sister, to tell the Or Steering and Parents’ Committees what to do. He needed to pretend he was one of the team, not a city Gaian who thought he was smarter and more sophisticated than mountain Is-Landers. But that, Astra now knew, was exactly what he was.

  2.8

  Astra trailed out of the marquee side exit with the other Or-kids. Meem and Yoki were mimicking Klor’s funny hand wave, and Peat was enthusing about the possible new woodcarving studio. Astra detached herself and searched on the lawn for Hokma. There she was: standing at the side exit talking to her brother. How could she do that? He had just humiliated her in front of the whole of Or. All over the lawn adults were sneaking glances at her Shelter mother. ‘Our first recommendation,’ an urbagger near Astra murmured. ‘Well, I suppose it had to happen sometime.’

  ‘She has looked tired lately,’ one of Klor’s team replied, sympathetically.

  ‘She’s up at Wise House the whole time with that feral child,’ another man commented. ‘Seems like a sensible decision to me.’

  Lil was clinging to Hokma’s hand, her legs crossed as if she were a seven-year-old who needed a wee. As Astra watched, Hokma pushed her forward and introduced her to Dr Blesserson. He did exactly what he’d done to Astra at his house: glance briefly at her as if she were an inconvenience. Lil leaned against Hokma and averted her head. Her eyes met Astra’s and she stuck out her tongue.

  It was one thing to observe Lil’s mental illness when they were alone. It was entirely another to have to cope with it in public, especially in front of Dr Blesserson. Astra stepped back quickly into the warm crush of adults milling on the lawn. But it was too late: Hokma had seen her and was waving her over.

  She trudged across the grass back towards the tent. Hokma reached out and pulled her into the circle.

  ‘You remember Astra, don’t you?’ she asked her brother. Her tone was clipped.

  ‘How could I forget your charming Shelter daughter, Hokma?’ Dr Blesserson gave a wince of a smile. ‘And how is Astra?’

  ‘She’s fine,’ Astra snarled. Beside her, Lil emitted a delighted little grunt.

  ‘Ah, not so emotionally composed today, are we, Astra?’ Dr Blesserson examined her coolly. ‘Isn’t it a shame, Hokma, that she hasn’t turned out as even-tempered as her peers.’ He reached forward, took Astra by the chin and twisted her face into the light. ‘And the Serum hasn’t prevented her acne. Such a rare case. What a pity.’

  ‘I don’t have frigging acne!’ Astra wrenched herself away and stood shuddering beside Lil. Acne was when you had pimples everywhere. It was an Old World disease, like teaby and HIV and cold sores. No one in Is-Land had acne any more because the oatmilk was treated to prevent it. She just had the occasional pimple, that was all. Maybe the Sec Gens didn’t get them, but Torrent did sometimes, and so did Holaa. She’d bet anything that Dr Blesserson had had pimples too. When you looked close up, he had little indents in his cheeks, pockmarks that definitely weren’t frigging happy-face dimples.

  ‘Astra,’ Hokma said sharply. ‘She can be a little testy when she’s hungry,’ she said to her brother in that same taut voice. ‘She’s doing very well at school, you’ll be pleased to know. Top of the class in Language Skills, and top ten per cent in Code.’

  ‘Impressive.’ Dr Blesserson didn’t sound impressed. He sounded like he was taunting her. ‘Let’s hear some of those Language Skills then, Astra.’

  Her face was hot and her palms were damp. She didn’t want to recite a poem in Asfarian: she wanted to kick his shins.

  Dr Blesserson chuckled. ‘Don’t worry, Astra. Language Skills are always the first to desert us when we’re nervous.’

  She wasn’t going to let him think she couldn’t speak. She drew herself up and threw out her chest. ‘You shouldn’t have demoted Hokma,’ she declared. ‘She was doing a good job. She only didn’t come to meetings because she was looking after me and Lil.’

  ‘Demoted.’ He smiled a big smile now. His teeth were exceedingly white and shiny, as if fresh from a kiln. ‘That is top flight vocabulary for a little girl. Well done, Astra.’

  Little girl. She opened her mouth to fire back, but Hokma squeezed her hand and spoke first. ‘Dr Blesserson didn’t demote me, Astra,’ she said brusquely. ‘The committee made a recommendation and he delivered it, that’s all.’

  ‘I’m hungry,’ Lil butted in. ‘You said there was going to be a banquet.’ She was lolling against Hokma now, and pulling on her arm. It was impossible to believe she was the same person Astra had argued with and Gaia-played with two days before. Astra folded her own arms across her chest. Hokma was defending her worst enemy and Lil was acting like a spoiled infant. Both of them must be mentally ill.

  ‘Ah, the joys of parenthood. Shall I let you fill these rude little stomachs, then, Hokma?’ Dr Blesserson was scanning the lawn. ‘I should really have a word with Dr Grassmere.’

  ‘Of course, Samrod. And congratulations again on your appointment.’ Hokma stood aside and he strode off without so much as a goodbye glance at Astra or Lil.

  ‘You’ve got a rude tummy,’ Lil crowed, poking her in the belly.

  Astra swatted her hand away. ‘He’s the rude one.’

  ‘Astra,’ Hokma spoke in a low voice. ‘He’s just doing his job. I don’t want you to go complaining about him to anyone. Understand?’

  Astra toed the dirt. ‘I’m not testy when I’m hungry. I’m not even hungry.’ Her stomach was, in fact, grumbling, but she didn’t feel like going into Core House. Was Lil going to sit with her and the Or-kids? What if she said crazy things? Right now she was swinging off Hokma’s arm like … like a chimpanzee, pulling at an angle to the lawn and attracting the attention of the adults. Why didn’t Hokma tell her to behave?

  But Hokma was laughing at her. ‘Oh?’ She tousled Astra’s hair. ‘Sounds like someone’s tummy thinks differently.’

  Lil shot her a knowing look. They speak to you like you’re kids, she’d said on the ledge.

  ‘I want to take the birds back to Wise House,’ Astra complained. ‘They were frightened in the tent.’

  ‘They’ll be fine. Lil and I will take the trainees later, and Helium and Silver can fly back. Do you want to sit with the Or-kids at dinner, or with me and Lil?’

  Lil got to sit with the adults? At a table with candles? ‘With you,’ Astra muttered.

  * * *

  She was afraid that Dr Blesserson would be at their table, but he and the other IMBOD officers were seated at an oval table at the top end of the room with Nimma and Klor and other members of the Steering Committee. Normally this table held flowers, but when guests came it was put into service for dinner. In front of it, the trestle tables were draped with white cloths and the older Or-kids were helping the kitchen team put bread rolls and roasted nuts and seeds on all the tables, and wine flagons, candles and tinderboxes out for the adults. Astra was too short to see if there were empty chairs anywhere, but Hokma said there was space at the table that ran along the far left wall of the room, beneath the high windows with Sorrel and Mr Ripenson and Moon and Aesop. As Astra passed the Sec Gen table, she gave Meem and Yoki a little wave. They waved back, Meem’s face lighting up with amazement as she realised Astra was sitting with the adults today. Yoki’s expression hardened, though, when he saw Lil.

  Nimma’s team had specially washed the long white dining-hall curtains for today and they floated gauzily down behind the table like angel wings from a fairy tale. In front of them, Mr Ripenson and Sorrel were lighting the candles, Mr Ripenson flicking the tinderbox wheel with his thumb and Sorrel catching the spark with long, green-tipped matches that released the scent of sulphur when they flared. You learned how to ma
ke matches and work the tinderbox when you were fourteen and joined the kitchen team. Until then, candle paraphernalia was strictly off-limits. Fascinated, Astra nudged Lil, but she gave Mr Ripenson a disdainful glance and craned her neck up at the high timbered ceiling. Just because she could start a flame with her breath.

  ‘A little fire and brimstone,’ Mr Ripenson said to Hokma. ‘Seems suitable for a visit from the avenging technocrats.’

  She laughed. ‘Oh, Samrod’s always been a stickler for the rules. You should have seen the way he ran our dolls’ hospital. Woe betide me if I ran out of bandages.’

  The other adults laughed too, but Astra stood awkwardly at the top of the table. There were five empty seats, three on one side and two on the other. Was she allowed to sit where she liked?

  ‘You two go in first.’ Hokma nodded at the three chairs on the far side of the table. ‘Astra, sit next to Sorrel.’

  ‘I don’t want to sit in the middle,’ Lil whined. ‘I want to sit at the end. Next to Astra.’

  Whining never got you anywhere with Hokma. Astra waited for her to tell Lil to do as she was told. But Hokma, unbelievably, sighed and said, ‘Okay. I’ll sit next to Sorrel. Lil, if you need the toilet, it’s over there.’ She pointed across the dining hall at the washroom door. ‘If you want to leave Core House, you can wait for me at the swings and I’ll come and take you back to Wise House.’

  ‘But—’ Astra protested. She didn’t want to sit beside Lil if the girl was going to act like a poorly trained simian the whole time. If she was sitting at the adults’ table, she wanted to sit among the adults.

  ‘Astra. It’s her first time at table. Co-operate, please.’

  Hokma squeezed in between the chairs and the curtains to take the seat next to Sorrel and her enormous baby belly. Lil grabbed Astra’s arm and gave a triumphant little hop. Astra pulled away and dragged out her own chair.

  ‘Hi, Astra. Hi, Lil.’ The adults greeted the girls, and Astra muttered hellos back. Lil sat down beside her and bounced on her chair. Hokma reached over and pulled the candlestick away from Lil, putting it right in front of Astra, which was a relief. The two seats opposite her were empty and beyond the flame she had a full view of the near end of the oval table. If it wasn’t for the candle she’d be staring at Dr Blesserson the whole meal. At least he had his back to her, thank Gaia.

  ‘Anyone sitting here?’ Russett was towering over the table. Russett was Torrent’s Code-Shelter father, tall like his son, but bulky. His broad chest was covered with curly silver hair and his brown skin was freckled and reddish in places: he was really light-skinned, but deeply tanned. The hair on his head was short and thinning, but Nimma had told Astra that when he was younger it had been even longer than Torrent’s. Russett was good at archery – he had coached the Or-kid team a few years ago and Astra had liked all the exercises he’d made them do to strengthen their back, shoulder and abdominal muscles. But he could get angry if the team lost and in the end the Parents’ Committee had decided that the younger children needed a more ‘philosophical’ coach. Now he helped train the older children for their IMBOD Service fitness exams.

  ‘You are, friend.’ Mr Ripenson pulled out the chair next to him, opposite Astra.

  ‘Hello, Astra,’ Russett said, sliding the candle back up towards the top of the table so he could see her face. ‘How’s the petal-sewing going?’

  Hokma had noted the candle move; she caught Russett’s eye and jerked her chin towards Lil, who was kicking her chair leg with her heel. The knocking vibrations were extremely annoying. ‘Okay,’ Astra replied, but Russett wasn’t looking at her any more.

  ‘So this is the famous Lil,’ he said, moving the candle back a fraction. ‘How do you do, Lil?’

  Lil didn’t raise her head; she just started twiddling her bread knife on the table in time to the thud of her heels against her chair legs. Astra trod on her foot and she stopped the kicking at last.

  ‘Shy, hey?’ Mr Ripenson laughed.

  ‘First time at adult table.’ Russett poured himself a glass of red wine from the flagon beside the candle. ‘Bound to be tongue-tied. Are they allowed some wine, Hokma? That’ll get ‘em talking.’

  ‘No,’ Hokma said firmly. ‘Torrent, please take these away.’

  Torrent had arrived at the end of the table with a serving trolley. Hokma reached in front of the candle and pushed the wine glass that had been set for Astra up towards Lil’s. As the kitchen team always did when preparing or serving food, Torrent was wearing a red handspun linen apron, which he’d folded down over his waist to show off his pecs and abs. He put the glasses on the bottom shelf of the trolley, then gave Lil and Astra a wink.

  ‘Come and help do the dishes later, Astra,’ he said, ‘and we’ll crack open the sloe gin.’

  ‘Torrent,’ Russett reproved, but the other adults were laughing. The joke was on her, though, and Astra glowered down at the tablecloth. Beside her, Torrent filled a plate with beetroot, apple and walnut salad and handed it to Lil. She grasped it in both hands and set it down in front of her.

  ‘We pass the plates down the table, Lil,’ Hokma said. Staring openly back at Torrent, who was taking full advantage of the opportunity to inspect her, Lil plucked a slice of beetroot from the plate and popped it into her mouth.

  ‘Mmmm,’ she declared.

  Astra didn’t know if she wanted to giggle or jab Lil with her elbow.

  ‘Okay, never mind for today,’ Hokma said. ‘Torrent, just pass the plates to Astra please. Lil, use your knife and fork. And wait until everyone’s got their salad to start.’

  ‘Isn’t Astra teaching Lil how to behave?’ Torrent asked breezily as he passed her a salad. ‘She’s been minding my manners for years.’

  Hokma and Moon chuckled, but Russett was not amused. ‘Torrent, you’re serving. This is not the time for cheek.’

  Astra passed the plate down and made a face at Torrent, who just grinned and cast more curious looks over Lil as he finished serving. Russett was the last to get a plate, and when he raised his wine glass and announced, ‘To Gaia,’ everyone began eating.

  The starter was good, especially with the crusty bread to mop up the horseradish and honey dressing, but soon the adults were ignoring her and Lil was still keeping mum, finger-picking at her food. She should have chosen to eat with the Sec Gens. This was boring. Russett and Sorrel were talking urbag business, and Hokma was explaining something to Mr Ripenson, drawing an invisible diagram on the tabletop with her finger as Moon listened in. The teacher smiled at her, and for a moment she hoped he might tell Hokma about Gaia-play lessons and how she’d contributed to the discussion today. Then she could explain further what she’d meant, and call him Vishnu, which she was ordinarily too shy to do. But at the same time she didn’t want Mr Ripenson to talk about school, not in front of Lil. The adults’ conversations melded with the general hubbub of voices and chiming of cutlery on plates.

  Lil turned to Astra and nodded towards the head table, where the members of the Steering Committee were sitting with the IMBOD officers. ‘Someone likes Dr Blesserson,’ she whispered.

  Looking around the candle flame, Astra followed Lil’s gaze. Dr Blesserson and Ahn were laughing loudly. Ahn was throwing his head back and Dr Blesserson briefly put his hand on Ahn’s shoulder. Across the table, Nimma was smiling at them and saying something in the ear of the female Inspector; Klor was grinning and wagging his bushy eyebrows.

  ‘Drink up, girls.’ Hokma refilled their water glasses.

  ‘Thank you, Hokma,’ Lil said brightly. They were the first polite words she had said at table. The adults smiled broadly at her and each other.

  ‘You’re welcome, Lil,’ Hokma replied. Under the table Lil nudged Astra’s leg with her knee.

  ‘Thank you, Hokma.’ Astra reached for her glass and took a sip.

  She understood now. It was all an act. Lil was playing the adults like a game, acting like an infant so that she could get her own way, sit in the best vantage point and observe
the room without distraction. She and Lil finished their salads in silence, but it was a purposeful silence now. They were alert to the Steering Committee table, to the way Dr Blesserson was dominating the conversation, using his hand gestures to attract everyone’s attention, but turning respectfully to Ahn every few minutes to allow him to address the group as well. Congruence was serving their table, and when she came to dish out the main course, Ahn placed his hand on the small of her back and pushed her towards Dr Blesserson, who looked up at her and said something that made her smile. Ahn gave her back a little pat and dropped his arm.

  ‘Enjoyed that salad?’ Hokma asked.

  ‘Yes, thanks,’ they replied in unison.

  ‘Good girls.’

  Then Torrent was back, collecting their salad dishes and passing out bowls of tofu and alt-prawn gumbo with brown rice.

  ‘There’s brandy in the broth,’ he said as Astra took her own bowl and set it down in front of her. ‘Better keep an eye on the girls.’

  ‘Thank you, Torrent,’ Russett said. Astra remembered that tone from archery coaching. He didn’t mean ‘thank you’, he meant ‘that’s frigging enough’. Torrent was silent as he passed around the rest of the dishes.

  ‘He’s a bold one, that boy,’ Sorrel said as Torrent trundled the trolley back to the kitchen.