Wolf Logic

by Masha du Toit

  That was another example of thinking about something in the wrong way. He’d assumed Hitam was a pet, or some kind of guard dog. He’d not thought of him as a person, as somebody with a key of his own, tucked away in the lining of his collar, with clever hands that could unlock a door, and a thinking mind behind his sleepy eyes.

  Hitam could talk too, after a fashion, as became clear when Billy and Spyker returned the previous evening. Spyker was the only one who could understand his growls and ear flicks, but the dog-thing managed to convey every detail about Nico’s escape attempt.

  Nico had been reluctant to demonstrate his skills in front of Billy and Spyker, but since his secret was out, he had given in to the temptation of showing off a little. After all, they didn’t know all his secrets. They still didn’t know about his ability to link, for example. He’d have to be careful to keep that to himself.

  During the long hours under Hitam’s guard, waiting for Billy and Spyker, he’d had a chance do some thinking. The ease with which he had unlocked the door had given him confidence. If he could do that, it might be possible to try some other ideas he’d had in mind—things to do with the mind-link.

  Up to now, he’d failed at all his attempts to communicate through the link. But maybe he’d been thinking in the wrong way about that too. He would have to wait until Billy and Spyker were distracted before he tried to put his new ideas to test. Right now, they were very interested in him indeed.

  “Not quite so straight after all, are you,” said Spyker, contemplating Nico speculatively. “Maybe you didn’t do such a bad day’s work, Billy, when you picked him up.”

  Billy glanced at him, eyebrows raised. “If you’re thinking what I’m thinking...”

  “I think,” said Spyker, sitting forward and picking up one of the coins, “That little whatsisname here could turn out to be quite useful.” He spun the coin and caught it. “Can you unlock any lock, boy?”

  Nico shrugged. “Don’t. Know.” He found himself wanting to impress the sour-faced little man. “Maybe.”

  “Gotta admit, would have made a difference on that job we did last night,” said Billy. “But he’s just a kid, Spyker. I don’t know—”

  “So were you, just a kid, when you started, weren’t you?” said Spyker. “So was I. Best way to learn. Start them young.”

  Small Rooms

  All the wolf-heads were on patrol that morning, so Kemp set the cadets cleaning the daylight row. Bedding was dragged out and bundled into the industrial-size washing machines, the cages were hosed down and all lock mechanisms tested. As most of the controllers were away on patrol, the work was done almost entirely by cadets. Kemp did not seem to mind them talking and soon a lively discussion was flying between the cages.

  “So when will it be our turn to go on patrol?” Motsepe wanted to know.

  “I can’t wait either,” said Pote, leaning on his broom. “Do we get to ride on the trucks and all?”

  “Yes,” said Mayer. “We should all get a turn this week or next week. Later on, if they choose us, we can get a fast track on controller training.”

  “You’re such a boffin, Mayer,” said Vetkoek. “How do you know all this stuff? Pote, can you turn on that tap? I want to hose down this bit here.”

  “I read the handbook,” said Mayer. “You know, the one we all have? Watch where you’re spraying that, Vetkoek. Kemp said we were not to get water on the corridor.”

  “Sergeant Kemp to you, Cadet!” said Vetkoek.

  Gia laughed. It wasn’t often that anyone caught the proper Mayer in a mistake of etiquette.

  It felt good to be working among the other recruits. They seemed to have forgotten, for the moment, that she was an outcast. Nobody was giving her the silent treatment anymore and there were no more vicious pranks.

  “Why are they all gone, this morning?” said Van Niekerk. “There aren’t usually this many on patrol, are there?”

  “No,” agreed Pote. “It’s all this stuff that’s happening at the moment. The referendum coming and all. And this Mere Delegation stuff too, probably.”

  “And the wedding!” said Motsepe, straightening up from where she’d been scrubbing the concrete. “It’s any day now, isn’t it? I can’t wait to see Kavitha’s gown. It’s going to be luscious.”

  Gia couldn’t help smiling. If only she knew. What would Motsepe say if she knew that the person who’d designed that dress was right here, in the wolf cages with her? Gia wondered if her father had finished the dress yet and whether it looked as good as she’d hoped it would. Kavitha had warned that her fiancé, Luxulo Langa, would be swift to punish anyone he thought interfered with the smooth running of his plans. If something had happened to her father and Mandy, Gia would probably be the last to know.

  It was so frustrating to be cut off from home. For all she knew, Nico was safely back and getting underfoot, distracting Mandy from her work. But it was hard to sustain this comforting image.

  He’s still out there, somewhere.

  All by himself.

  -oOo-

  After the wolf cages, they were sent to clean the Zoo displays. Gia was determined to get a look behind the metal door in the doctor’s workroom. Mantjies did not need her help, so she had to find another excuse to be there. Luckily there was once again a pile of beakers and other equipment stacked near the basin, so she set to work washing them.

  Another advantage of this chore was that it kept her hands warm. The day had turned cold, with rain misting down outside. Gia considered listening at the metal door, but there was never enough time—somebody was always coming in to get some piece of equipment, or put something away.

  Just as she thought her morning would be completely wasted, the door to the courtyard swung open to reveal Nurse Richards, whom Gia had last seen emerging from the metal door with a trolley full of trays.

  “Phew.” Nurse Richards flicked the water off her hands. “It would rain today, just when I forgot to bring my raincoat. Hand me the towel, will you dear?” She took the towel from Gia and dabbed carefully at her face. “Just as well I don’t wear a lot of makeup. There. Do I look decent? Oh! Cadet Lee. I was just going to go looking for you.”

  “Anything wrong, nurse?” said Lee, who’d just come in, carrying a pile of papers.

  “No, nothing wrong,” said the nurse, hanging her handbag on a hook behind the door. “But I’ll need some help today. I wanted to try taking Mienkie’s bed completely out. She keeps hiding under it. I thought, what if we just take the whole thing out and just put her mattress flat on the floor? Wouldn’t that be better?”

  “I don’t see why not,” said Lee. “We’ve done it before, with the Volschenk boy, didn’t we? And Captain didn’t mind.”

  “That’s what I thought,” said Nurse Richards. “But I can’t do it all by myself. Do you have a moment?”

  “Not right now,” said Lee, “But you could help, can’t you Grobbelaar? Just leave those beakers, you can finish them later.”

  “Yes, ma’am!” Gia could hardly believe her luck. She finished the beaker she’d been washing and dried her hands.

  “She’ll need a blocker, nurse,” said Lee.

  “Of course!” said Nurse Richards. “There in that cupboard by your knees, cadet. One of those silvery things. Just slip it over your temples.”

  The blocker turned out to be a thin metal band. Gia tried to fit it on her forehead, but it didn’t seem to fit right.

  “Not like that.” The nurse stepped in to help. “Like this. The ends above your ears and the rest around the back of your head, like that, see?”

  “What’s it for?” Gia had to raise her voice because Lee had unlocked the metal door and the whistling alarm tone shrilled unpleasantly. “It’s a blocker,” said Lee. “Some of the children have rather strong psychic talents. You might find yourself having some pretty strange thoughts if you go in unprotected.”

  “But don’t you guys need it too?” Gia touched the blocker. It seemed a rather flimsy defence and not a
t all reassuring.

  “I’m pretty well able to take care of myself, against that kind of thing,” said Lee, smiling slightly. “And Nurse Richards is not susceptible.”

  “They can’t reach me!” said the nurse comfortably. “But they always try anyway, the little rascals.”

  They stepped through the door and to Gia’s relief the whistle stopped as soon as it shut behind them.

  “Isn’t it annoying?” said Nurse Richards. “But it’s necessary, I suppose. We always know when somebody’s going in or out and there’s no way you can forget that door open!”

  They were in a short corridor, with several doors opening on either side. These doors were also clad in metal, but each had a large, mesh-covered window. Gia looked surreptitiously through the first one they passed. All she could see was a tiny room and a small figure sitting on a bed. The breath caught in her throat even though she knew that the boy she’d seen was certainly not Nico. He was the wrong shape, plump and round, and he sat much stiller than Nico ever had.

  The nurse had already unlocked the next door and gone inside. “Hello, Mienkie,” Gia heard her say and then as Gia followed her, “Shut the door behind you, dear.”

  The room was small and windowless. A child-sized bed was covered in a puffy pink quilt, with a number of stuffed animals scattered over it, as well as two chairs—one small, one adult-sized—and a table with a container full of toys and games. A rainbow bright poster over the bed displayed a fluffy white unicorn surrounded by butterflies, and all around this posters were more pictures: a child’s drawings in crayon and pencil. But there was no sign of any occupant.

  Nurse Richards sank down onto her knees. “Now, Mienkie, we’ve got a visitor here for you, a young lady called—” She glanced at Gia.

  “Gia,” said Gia, wondering if she should also kneel.

  “See?” said the nurse. “This is Gia. You’ll come out and say hello to Gia, won’t you, sweetie?”

  There was a shuffling under the bed, but nothing else. Nurse Richards exhaled through her nose and shook her head at Gia. “It’s no good. She’s not coming out.” She got to her feet, groaning a little as she straightened up. “Let’s get this bed out of here. We’ll have to watch our step or she’ll nip out the door.”

  Gia nodded nervously, resisting the temptation to touch the blocker to check that it was still in place.

  “We’ll put the bedding and stuff in that bottom cupboard, just for the moment,” said the nurse. She drew out a key card and handed it to Gia. “You unlock it, dear and I’ll pass the things along to you.”

  Soon Gia found her arms full of a bewildering variety of stuffed animals, pillows, and sheets, trying to find space for them in the cupboard that was already full of bedding. “Just squash them in there,” said the nurse, folding a strawberry pink sheet. “We’ll lean the mattress against that wall over there so it’s out of the way, then we can get the bed out into the corridor.” She looked down at the bed. “Last chance, Mienkie,” she called quietly. “We’re going to lift up your bed now and you might find that scary. You want to come out by yourself first?”

  No answer.

  “Right,” said Nurse Richards. She sidled into the corner by the head of the bed. “Ready,” she said. “Let’s do it. Mattress first.”

  They lifted the mattress off the bed and leaned it against one of the walls.

  “Right. One, two, three,” said the nurse and up came the bed. “You hold the door open for me. No, I can push the bed out by myself. Better you stay here and keep an eye on her.”

  The nurse manoeuvred the little bed out the door with practised ease. For a moment, Gia was alone in the room with the little figure, who was now revealed curled up in the corner where the bed had been—a little girl who could not be more than four years old. Her skin was the colour of toffee and she had long, glossy black hair. Two very large, brown eyes looked up at Gia out of a small, dust-smudged face.

  “Hi there,” said Gia. Then her hands flew up to the blocker band. “Hey! Did you do that?” The band had given a distinct twitch then clicked exactly as if somebody was tapping on it with a fingernail.

  “Stop that, Mienkie,” said Nurse Richards, back in the room again. “You know that’s rude. Say hello properly to Cadet Grobbelaar. And here, let me wipe your face.”

  The little girl endured the nurse’s ministrations, still staring up at Gia. “Who’s the boy? How did he get there?”

  “No, Mienkie,” said the nurse. “Gia’s a girl.”

  A slight frown creased Mienkie’s forehead. “But there’s a boy there.” Then she noticed the rest of the room. “Where are my toys?” she demanded. “Why did you take my toys?”

  “Um, I didn’t take them,” said Gia. “They’re all here safely in the cupboard. Look.”

  “You’ll get your toys back now-now, Mienkie,” said Nurse Richards. “Could you stand over there, please, so we can make your bed again? That’s a good girl. Grobbelaar, you help me put the mattress back there on the ground.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Gia was relieved to have something to do to distract her from Mienkie’s accusing eyes. It’s just a little girl. What could she possibly do to hurt you?

  Nurse Richards got the bedding on the cupboard and soon the bed was made and the stuffed toys set out again, under Mienkie’s stern eye.

  “No, Applecore goes on the pillow,” she instructed. “And Missy goes next to her, they’re friends. But Cobble must go on floor, there behind the toilet. He’s been a naughty boy.”

  The toilet? A boxy shape had been built into the wall behind the table. It was the right sort of size…was that a toilet? The idea horrified her. It made the room seem suddenly much smaller.

  “Now, if you could just help me with the lunch trays,” said the nurse. “Lee usually helps me.”

  -oOo-

  “Lee’s so good with the little ones,” confided Nurse Richards to Gia when they were back in the tiny kitchen area in the doctor’s workroom. “You’d never know she was one of them herself, once.” She was deftly assembling some sandwiches. “There’s some grated cheese in that little fridge, near the back—”

  “Did you look after her then?” asked Gia, bending to reach for the cheese.

  “Oh, no, I was still working at the Annex at that time,” said the nurse. “Thanks, sweetheart. Now, get me five plates and five cups...”

  Gia helped the nurse carry the trays in through the door.

  “Better stay out in the corridor, dear,” the nurse told her. “I’ll take the food in. Some of them don’t really like to see strangers.”

  The other children were all boys. The pale, plump one she’d already seen was called Patrick. He didn’t react at all as the nurse put his tray down in front of him and didn’t seem to notice Gia peering in through the window. In the next room was Lungile, a skinny boy with an eye patch, and across the corridor from him was Peet, who seemed to be perpetually on the move, clambering around the room and over the patient Nurse Richards as if she were a piece of furniture. The last one was Joseph, a sullen child who stood with his face in the corner, obstinately ignoring her. He was taller than the others and Gia guessed he must be around ten years old.

  There was no sign of a skinny boy with curly black hair and bright, questioning eyes—no sign of her brother Nico. As she stood in the corridor, watching Nurse Richards coaxing Joseph to eat his lunch, Gia didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. There was something horrifying about those five little rooms, each with its solitary occupant. She couldn’t bear the idea of Nico confined in such a place, but she had hoped that seeing what was behind the door would give her some idea, some clue to where to start looking next. But she was as lost as ever.

  Nurse Richards came out of Peet’s room, shaking her head. “That boy. He’s more of a handful every day. Oh, good morning, captain!”

  Gia turned to see Captain Witbooi stepping through the entrance door, followed by a woman.

  “Morning, Mrs Solomons,” said Nur
se Richards. “Or is it afternoon already?”

  “Morning, nurse,” said Captain Witbooi, his eyes on Gia. “And this is—Grobbelaar, isn't it? Helping out with the children this morning, Cadet?”

  Gia managed a nod, and felt her heart speed. These were the two people who’d actively tried to trap her brother here, in the Special Branch children’s unit. But although Mrs Solomons’s glance lingered on Gia just a little bit longer than was comfortable, neither of them seemed interested in her presence.

  “Cadet Lee’s not here yet,” Nurse Richards was saying. “I’ll let her know you are here as soon as she arrives. You’re going through to the playroom?”

  “That’s correct, nurse,” said the captain. “I’d like to have another go at working with Lungile today. We’ll set up so long. No—you go ahead. We won’t need your help just yet.”

  The space was narrow enough that Gia and the nurse had to stand with their backs to the wall to let the captain and Mrs Solomons pass. Once again, the woman caught her eye. “Good morning, Gianetta,” she said with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. “I hope you are fitting in nicely here? Enjoying life as a Special Branch cadet?”

  “Oh,” said Gia, her mouth dry. “Uh—yes, ma’am!”

  To her relief, Mrs Solomons seemed satisfied with this answer. After another smiling nod, the woman followed Captain Witbooi to a door at the end of the corridor and did not look at Gia again.

  -oOo-

  That evening, after supper, Gia sat on the windowsill by her bed, thinking over the day’s events. It was a good place to sit, out of the way of the other cadets but not so far removed that she was obviously distancing herself from them. The rest of the girls were gathered around Isaacs’s bed, asking her and Mostert about their morning out on patrol. Gia was curious too, but she didn’t feel sure of her welcome. It seemed unlikely that there would be another initiation attempt any time soon. The fence was up and running again after the incident with the guilters, but Gia had overheard Jooste grumbling that security would be stepped up for the next few nights while they tested various parts of the system.