Nico watched him warily. Spyker had a way of reaching out to pinch him with those long, pale fingers, delivering a stinging static shock that sparked and burnt little holes in Nico’s clothes. But he wanted to see Spyker’s drawings. They fascinated him. Twisting, interlocked letters with scales and claws, letters that fitted together into shapes that hinted at their meaning. Words that looked the way they sounded and looked alive, too, as if they could crawl out of the page.
“He’s just antsy, Spyker,” said Billy. “He’s a kid! He needs to let off some steam.”
Spyker shot him a scathing look. “If I had my way, he’d let off some steam for real. Keep him away from me, or I’ll do something about it.”
Nico sighed and started his circuit of the room again, taking care to stay well clear of Spyker’s dog, Hitam. He was nervous of the creature, although it seemed to ignore anyone but Spyker. Nico was not completely sure that Hitam was a dog. He certainly looked like a dog, with that narrow, long-nosed face and large dog like ears. He was dog sized too. He moved like a cat, though, and had cat-like barred and mottled patterns on his fur. But the strangest thing about him was his front paws, the toes of which were elongated so that they seemed almost like hands. Right now, these paws were curled around whatever it was that he was chewing, turning it around and around.
Nico was bored.
The room had been interesting at first, something like the caretaker’s workroom, except that it was much neater. Shelves full of lined up jars and boxes, containing a wealth of electrical and mechanical bits and pieces—everything carefully labelled and all of it out of bounds for Nico. He went to look at his favourite shelf, the one that held more cans of spray paint than he’d ever seen, and more colours than he’d known existed.
Royal Garnet, Burgundy, Fuchsia, Terra Cotta, Bitter Lemon…
He mouthed the words, savouring how they sparked and glowed, or spread like slow, dark oil in his mind’s eye.
Raspberry, Darkest Rose, Carmine, Cardinal Red, Chestnut, Azure, Cerulean…
There were jars of nibs and nozzles too, with similarly attractive names. Thins and fats and super fats, skinnies, outliners and euro-style. He itched to try them out. All around him were marks made by these cans, whooshes of soft colour on the walls and ceiling, pin-lines, curls and here and there a complete painting.
One of these was on the back wall. Curved lines, some darkly spiked, some little dots, a forest of lines that twisted into tendrils and curling, sparking wires. The more he looked, the more he saw, shapes like electric eels swimming through dark water, nestled so tightly against one another they seemed like one big creature. Their bodies were shot through with electricity, sparks coursing in white webs over their flesh. Some had eyes on stalks, some were covered in silvery scales that shifted colour as Nico moved his head. And then, all at once, he saw it and could not believe that he’d not seen it all along. The shapes, fitting together in their twisting way, spelt a word. A word that was—
“Spyker!” said Nico, hardly aware that he’d read the word out loud. “Spyker.” He smiled at the cleverness of it and saw that the owner of that name was watching him. Forgetting that he was more than a little afraid of Spyker, Nico beamed at him. “Beautiful,” he said and saw the stiff displeasure of Spyker’s expression relax a little.
“Come here, you,” said Billy. “Make yourself useful for a change. Help me untangle these wires. Then I’ll show you how you can fit them to these little light bulbs, have you seen these?”
Nico stared down at the little glass bubbles in Billy’s palm.
“Come, I’m going to show you how to wire these up.”
By the time Gia rejoined her group, the data capture session was halfway over and she had to take one of the computers in the back row. She soon realised that this was an advantage, with no cadets on either side to notice if she did some unauthorised exploration in the database. It was too good an opportunity to waste. She took the folder of lists from Warrant Officer Naudé obediently enough, but as soon as he settled back at his machine, she called up the password input box again.
This time she’d stop messing about and look at Mrs Solomons’s files. She was sure to have something on Nico. As far as Gia knew, she was part of the Special Branch children’s unit. That would explain her unusual interest in Gia’s younger brother, when they’d first met.
At first she blanked out on the name and password combination she’d memorised, but after a moment’s thought, it came to her.
Helena Solomons
password123
Success. The password was accepted. She was in. Working quickly, Gia called up the search function and typed in Nico’s name. She felt a rush of excitement as the screen filled with text.
Age. Weight. Blood pressure. These must be the results of his testing. She scanned the list, but most of the information meant nothing to her. She paged to the next screen and the next. A note near the bottom caught her eye.
Child subject to hysterical fits, violent tantrum, screaming, attempts to inflict harm (biting).
Gia remembered Nico as he’d been after that test, how he’d shivered in Saraswati’s arms. With sudden rage she hoped that Nico had managed to sink his teeth into the nurse who’d tested him. Then she remembered her own morning’s work. The doctor’s chair. The way Lizzie had struggled in her bonds. Maybe the nurse had no more choice than I had. There’s no comparison, anyway. Lizzie is a werewolf. A monster.
She forced that thought away and glanced at the wall clock. Their session was nearly over and she’d not even started on the work she was supposed to do. Seeing Warrant Officer Naudé look in her direction, she put up her hand.
“Yes, cadet?”
“Sir, are we allowed to come and work in here after hours?” She ignored the surprised looks of her fellow cadets. “I’ve got some catching up to do, sir.”
“Yes, indeed, cadet,” said Naudé. “In fact, we encourage cadets to do so. You’ll find that as the year progresses, your workload will increase to the point where you’ll have to put in some extra hours. Just remember to get permission from me, or from the technician on duty.”
After looking through a few more pages, Gia logged out of Solomons’s account. There was nothing there that meant anything to her and she was increasingly nervous that somebody would be caught out. It would be better to come later, when there were not so many people around.
-oOo-
“Where were you, Zacky?” asked Vetkoek at supper that evening, shaking salt onto his food. It took Gia a moment to realise that he was talking to her. She’d forgotten all about the nickname she’d earned by catching the gogga on their first day.
“Doctor Scubbe asked me to help with something.”
Jooste was watching her.
“Just helping to clean some stuff.”
“Oh.” Vetkoek was clearly disappointed. “I thought you might have seen something top secret. Weapons and that.”
“No, nothing like that.” Gia bent her head over her plate, hoping no one would ask any more. The last thing Mantjies had said to her, before she’d gone off to data capture had made it clear that he expected her to keep what she’d seen to herself. The doctor doesn’t like too much talking. But don’t worry, I know you’re not that kind. And he’d said goodbye with an easy touch on the arm. Gia smiled rather sourly at the memory. Not that kind. He’d not have been quite so friendly, if he knew what I’m really doing here.
“So the doctor asked you to help?” Jooste was still looking at her.
Gia nodded, avoiding her gaze.
“So what were you doing lazing in the courtyard with Lee and Mantjies, then?”
Gia shrugged. “We were done, by then.” She concentrated on her food. “Just taking a break.”
“That’s nice. ‘Just taking a break.’ Seems you like doing your own thing, cadet,” said Jooste. “Always somewhere else than where you’re supposed to be.” Some of the other cadets were looking now. Gia did not respond. Where are Lee and Mantji
es? They must be skipping supper, or had left already. Maybe Jooste would get bored, if she just ignored her, but this tactic did not work.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you, cadet!” Now everyone in the refectory was paying attention.
“Oh, give it a rest, Jooste,” said one of the senior cadets. “You sound just like Naudé flapping about a data error. You finished with that sausage? I’ll have it, if you are.” He snaked a fork towards Jooste’s plate.
To Gia’s relief Jooste, thoroughly distracted, left her alone for the rest of the meal.
-oOo-
“Cadet Grobbelaar?”
Gia did not hear the call at first. She was sitting on her bed, drawing on the back of a Special Branch brochure while she waited for lights out. It was not the best surface to draw on as her pencil did not take well on the glossy paper, but it was better than nothing. She’d not had a chance to draw for days, now. It was strange to think that if she’d not chosen to come to Valkenberg, she’d probably be at art school right now, drawing whenever she wanted to...
“Grobbelaar!”
Gia looked up to see a woman she did not recognise at the door to their room.
“You Grobbelaar?” she said. “There’s a message here from Sergeant Kemp. Wants you to go to the C Block right away.”
That’s the wolf cages. Gia put her drawing down. “I’m coming.”
As she slipped on her jacket, her mind raced over the possibilities. It must be something to do with the werewolf, Lizzie.
When Gia reached the wolf cages, Controller Pienaar and Sergeant Kemp were both waiting outside. A clanging came from inside the building and an uncanny keening noise that rose and fell, setting Gia’s teeth on edge.
“Good,” said Kemp when she saw Gia. “Come along, cadet. We’ve got ourselves a little situation here.”
The clanging resumed as Kemp got them through the outer and inner gates and Gia could tell that it was coming from one of the daylight row cells. There was something uncanny about the scene in the corridor. In each cage, a wolf-headed werewolf stood, ears pricked, silently looking in the direction of the noise.
“So, this is the situation,” said Kemp. “Lizzie’s been asking for you.”
“What?” Gia was so surprised she forgot how she was supposed to address a sergeant, but Kemp did not seem to notice. “We’re trying to give her the dose that will edge her into the next phase of her transition, from wolf-head to human. But she’s refusing to take the drugs. Won’t eat or drink, refuses to hold still for an injection. Time’s getting on, we need to keep her on schedule otherwise she won’t have made the change by Monday.”
Kemp stopped in front of one of the cages. A yellow light was fixed just above the barred ceiling. In the patterned grid of shadows, Gia saw there were already several other people inside, a group of controllers. Some looked at Kemp, but most were facing the back of the cage, looking at something on the ground.
“We can inject her by force, of course,” said Kemp. “But with the drugs we’re using it can be dangerous if the subject isn’t calm. And, anyway, this thing is upsetting to the whole row already, as you can see.” She jerked her chin at the watching werewolves. “This lot could give us trouble for weeks. We need to keep any disturbance to a minimum.” The sergeant unlocked the cage. “You made quite an impression on Lizzie today, and she’s been asking for you. We need you to do your trick again. Calm her down. Get her to drink something. Think you can do that?”
Gia licked her lips. “I—suppose I can try. But, um, Sergeant Kemp, how could she be asking for me? She can’t talk, can she?”
“You’ll see.”
Kemp shoved the gate open and waited for Pienaar and Gia to step through. As the controllers stepped aside at Kemp’s approach, Gia saw that Lizzie was sitting on the floor at the back of the cage. She wanted to hang back, but Kemp had her by the arm.
“Here she is,” she said. And then, again, more distinctly, “Here she is, Lizzie. The girl.” Then, speaking to the controllers, she said, “You guys can clear out now. Me and Pienaar can manage.”
The controllers moved quietly out of the cage and Gia heard the gate click closed behind the last of them.
The werewolf looked up at her. She was crouched, knees drawn up, holding something in her hands. Her head came up as Kemp spoke and Gia saw that unlike the other wolf-heads in the surrounding cages, she was still wearing a muzzle.
“Gaurgh.” The sound coming from between her jaws was not quite a growl, more like a rumbling moan.
Gia saw the yellow light reflecting in her eyes. “Gurgh,” came the noise again and Gia realised, with horrified fascination, that the werewolf was trying to speak. “Gurr. Rrrr,” she said, the end of the word lapsing into a growl.
Girl. That’s what she’s trying to say. Girl.
Gia saw that the werewolf was holding a metal water bowl. Or something that had been a water bowl, but was now warped and dented beyond use. That must be what made the clanging.
“So,” said Kemp. “Here she is, Lizzie. We brought her for you.”
Lizzie dropped the bowl with a clatter.
Now what? What am I supposed to do? Gia hoped Kemp or Pienaar would give some sign of what they expected from her, but they just stood there, waiting. The werewolf heaved a deep breath, then let her head drop back against the wall behind her, eyes closed.
She’s exhausted. Gia lowered herself into a crouch. “Hey there,” she said and then, impatient with the shake in her voice, “Lizzie?” The werewolf opened her eyes a little.
“I’m here,” said Gia. “You called for me?”
Lizzie stared at her. Then she reached out a hand. Okay, I can do this. Gia forced herself to move a little closer, close enough to take the creature’s hand. She felt the strong fingers close about hers and once again, Lizzie sighed and bowed her head.
She’s trembling. The werewolf’s grip was tense and Gia could see a rim of white around her eyes. Her ears flicked constantly. “Hrray,” she said, then gave her head a shake, ears back in irritation and tried again. “Grraau.” The effort made her lips draw back, exposing a row of sharp, white teeth.
Gia found her mouth had gone dry. She’s not going to calm down unless she can get those words out. She glanced up at Kemp. “Can’t we take off the muzzle? She’s trying to say something.”
Kemp’s eyebrows went up. “Yes, we can.” She drew an object from a holster on her belt. “Do it, Pienaar,” she said. “But get your stunner ready first.”
Pienaar drew his stunner, but when he bent down and reached for the muzzle straps, Lizzie shrank from him, her lips rolling back again, a growl rumbling in her throat.
“I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” Pienaar said, looking at Kemp. “Don’t know what’s got into her. She’s usually such a good girl.”
“You want that muzzle to come off, you’ll have to take it off yourself, cadet,” said Kemp.
Gia swallowed and edged closer, one hand still in the werewolf’s grip. Just act like you know what you’re doing. Don’t show you’re afraid. She peered at the muzzle, trying to see where the buckles were. Lizzie bent her head forward and Gia remembered the main buckle fastened at the back, behind her ears.
“Um,” she said. “Can you let my hand go? I don’t think I can do this—” The werewolf released her hand.
“It’s the change in routine,” Gia heard Kemp say softly behind her.
Pienaar grunted in agreement.
“Those bloody experiments don’t help,” continued Kemp. “But she’s had worse than that, out on patrol. It’s the change in routine that’s messing with her mind. That doctor better watch his step or I’ll pull the plug on the whole thing.”
Gia had hold of the muzzle straps now. She felt Lizzie’s silky hair slip under her fingers as she undid the buckle. Then she pulled the muzzle forward, wincing as she felt the hair catch and pull. “Sorry,” she said and slid it off. Lizzie opened her jaws and spat out the metal bit. Then she wiped her mouth
on her arm.
“Shay,” she said, looking intently at Gia. “Sday?” She took Gia’s hand again. There was an unmistakable question in Lizzie’s eyes and she glanced up at Kemp as she spoke.
“She wants to know if you’ll stay,” said Kemp. “Yes, she can stay for a bit, Lizzie. If you’ll behave yourself.”
The werewolf nodded and leaned back against the wall again.
This is going to be a long night. Gia tried to find a more comfortable position on the concrete floor, shivering a little. The movement caught Lizzie’s eye. She gestured at the wall behind her, then, very slowly, drew her feet under her and stood up, pulling Gia up with her, eyes on Pienaar and Kemp, as if she were asking permission.
“You going into the shelter?” said Pienaar. “Good. I’ll go first.”
The shelter at the back of the cage was no more than a concrete box. The large, barred window meant there was little privacy, but it was roofed with a corrugated iron and offered some shelter from the night breeze. The only concession to comfort was a concrete ledge with some grey-and-white dog blankets. Lizzie sat on this, drawing Gia down beside her, while Pienaar leaned on the window ledge, stunner dangling in his hand.
“Right,” said Kemp. “Seems things are settling down now. Pienaar, I’ll leave you to keep an eye here. Give me a call when you think it’s time.”
Gia sat as far as she dared from the werewolf, whose fingers were still tightly laced around hers. Lizzie’s breathing was rapid and although she sat back with her eyes closed, her shoulders were drawn up and tremors shook her body.
Again, Gia was reminded of her brother, of the way he was after one of his tantrums. But Nico used to crawl into Saraswati’s arms and sob his sorrow out on his mother’s shoulder. Just as Gia had herself, when she was a little girl, waking up from a nightmare.
A memory surfaced, of sitting with Saraswati in their kitchen, still shaking from a fight, sipping hot milk spiced with nutmeg. That night I’d come home late from Fatima’s party. She always made hot milk, when we’d had a fight. And there had been so many fights, recently. It was hard to remember now, why she’d been so angry with her mother.
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