Fierce September (10 page)

Willem just said, ‘Hera, behave yourself.’

She complied.

With their new haircuts and Outside clothes, Mother, Dad and my grandparents had lost the Taris look. I kept staring at Mother and Grif and grinning. Danyat laughed. ‘Yes, the short curls do rather highlight their similarities.’

I waved them goodbye, shutting my mouth against wanting to call out to Mother,
Don’t be so scared! It’s exciting
and you’re lucky to be going out first
. Those of us of school age had to stay in the centre until 3.30, when the children of Wellington were released from their schools. ‘You’ll be too visible if you wander around during school hours,’ Malia told us. ‘We’ll be getting you into schools in a couple of weeks, so make the most of your free time now.’ She handed out maps, and showed us a holographic display we could use to practise finding our way round. ‘Use the time to memorise the city. You’ll be less visible if you don’t have to study a map as you go.’

We also had to be ready for the arrival mid-morning of the hair stylists. Our hair was to be washed and left wet, Malia told us. Silvern and the rest of the girls were ecstatic, but I was jittery, memories of the shavings sharp in my mind. I hung back, waiting to see how much they would cut off the others’ hair before taking my turn. But I needn’t have worried – the two men and the woman listened to each of us, made suggestions and didn’t do anything we didn’t want. Wenda’s hair would never look like Leng’s, but she came out smiling with a head of feathery curls. All the guy did to mine was admire its straightness, snip the ends and give me a few wispy bits around my face.

The morning passed quickly, but even so it was frustrating having to stay behind while the adults explored the city – especially when our parents returned at lunchtime looking dazed.

‘It’s so busy, so colourful, so noisy,’ Dad said.

‘And how are we going to decide what to buy in the shops?’ Mother almost wailed. ‘There’s so much to choose from.’ She put her hands to her head as if to stop it splitting open.

Even my grandparents, who had grown up Outside, found their time in the city daunting. Grif drank the tea I poured her and sighed. ‘That’s better. I don’t remember it being so exhausting. But of course I was just a young thing when we last went into a city.’ She smiled at me. ‘Juno, this afternoon, if you can, go to Cuba Street. It’s not far from here. I loved it when I was your age. I think you’ll like it there and it hasn’t changed so much in all the years we’ve been away.’ She wouldn’t tell me more, except to say that people who were non-compliant tended to hang out there. ‘I won’t spoil it for you. Much more fun to find out for yourself.’

‘I suppose we’ll get used to it all again,’ Leebar murmured. ‘But it’s so loud, so crowded, so many people.’

Malia was reassuring. ‘You will get used to it,’ she told us after lunch. ‘Be gentle on yourselves and go out every day. Try to stay out a little longer each time. Tomorrow we will give you some money, and you can shop for food to cook your own evening meals.’

Mother wasn’t the only one to flinch at the prospect of such a daunting task, but again Malia was comforting. Lessons were to begin that afternoon about the available cuts of meat, and how and where to shop for vegetables and spices.

With half an hour to spare, my stratum were ready and waiting for our turn to step into Outside. It was impossible to concentrate on anything other than the promise of freedom in front of us. It was a welcome distraction when Fergus came to check our appearance and give us each five dollars to spend. He pronounced most of us ‘very stylish’, but shook his head over Biddo.

‘Mate, how about you wear the grey jersey instead of the fluoro?’ he said. ‘Best not to draw attention to yourself at the moment, eh?’

Biddo ran off, and if he was sorry about not getting to wear his jacket he didn’t let on.

Fergus hadn’t finished with us. ‘Listen, kids. I would strongly recommend that you don’t go out in a big group like that.’

That didn’t feel right. We belonged together, we faced danger together. We were going on an adventure, exploring new territory – not all of it friendly. We’d feel more comfortable facing Outside as a unit. But we saw the sense of it and split up into groups of girls and boys.

Fergus laughed and shook his head. ‘This will be better.’

He shoved us around until we had three groups. I ended up with Biddo, Marba and Paz.

‘Poor you,’ Silvern muttered.

She was with Pel, Dreeda, Jidda and Rynd. Which left Fortun, Yin, Brex, Shallym and Wenda as the third group.

Shallym said, ‘Fergus, with your permission I’ll join Juno’s group.’

But Fergus held up a hand. ‘No. You’ll notice that I’ve put Juno with the three biggest boys.’

I went cold. They were to be my guards?

He smiled but I wasn’t reassured. ‘We don’t think there’s danger, but it’s as well to be prepared.’

Marba as usual applied his logical mind and asked, ‘But why Juno? There must be some reason to suspect she could be a target. What do any of the people of Aotearoa know about her?’

Fergus hesitated for a moment, but at last he said, ‘Very well. Willem wants you protected, Juno, because of your thought-transference abilities. We’re not sure, but we think there may be a way for such abilities to be detected. It’s something he’s been working on but hasn’t got very far with, so it’s just a precaution.’

‘But surely,’ Silvern said, ‘by putting Juno and Marba in the same group it’ll increase any chance of detection, because Marba can do it too.’

Fergus nodded. ‘A good point. But if you’ll excuse me for saying so, Marba, it seems your abilities aren’t as fully developed as Juno’s. We thought that if there was any trouble, then you might be able to contact each other.’

‘Why can’t we just take phones?’ Paz asked. ‘We saw on the news – everybody’s got a phone.’

Fergus spoke gently. ‘We’ve only been able to supply you with essential items. I’m sorry.’

Paz pulled a face. ‘No, I’m sorry. I forgot about needing to pay for things. I should have realised.’

Fergus touched his shoulder. ‘No worries. Now off you go and have fun.’

Dreeda looked at the money in her hand. ‘We don’t need this. It’ll be exciting enough just being Outside.’

But Fergus shook his head. ‘You must take it, and you must spend it. You have to get used to money, so treat this as a lesson.’ He grinned. ‘It won’t buy you much – a coffee and something to eat, a comb maybe or some sunglasses if you shop around.’ He told us how to tell a good pair of sunnies from a bad pair. ‘You’ll be needing them when summer comes.’

Sunnies. We would remember the word.

Perhaps to compensate for not letting me go with one of the girls, he sent my group off first – but only after checking a screen which showed the street outside the Centre. ‘All clear. Off you go.’

We took our first independent steps in the Outside world without speaking. I don’t think I could have uttered a single word, I was too busy taking it all in. We were in a canyon with high buildings on either side of the short street.

At the junction, Marba paused.

‘Left or right?’

I told him what Grif had said about Cuba Street.

‘We turn left then. Unless anyone wants to go somewhere different?’

But the others were happy with the prospect of a street filled with the non-compliant. We set off.

The street leading off ours was lined with big buildings with blank walls. The road seemed to be a corridor for wheeled traffic – two-and three-wheeled cycles, skateboards, scooters with and without motors, and one unicycle. There were a few pedestrians, who strode along the footpath as if they wanted to be somewhere else.

‘Okay,’ Marba whispered. ‘We walk quickly too. If we take a left at the next intersection we’ll be heading towards Cuba Street.’

‘Oh man!’ Biddo gasped, looking ahead of us. ‘I want to ride in that!’ He stared at the monorail crossing the intersection, its pods of cars zipping along above the street.

‘You could use your money,’ Paz said.

But Biddo shook his head. ‘Not yet. I’ll wait and see.’

We turned left into Courtenay Place. People, crowds, noise. Paz nudged me. ‘Look at that – if you want to blend in, you’d better hold Marba’s hand.’

I jabbed him with my elbow. ‘No, you blend in – look over there.’

It jolted us to see a couple of guys around our age holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes. ‘That would seem to confirm it,’ said Marba, ‘we’re in a different world from Taris.’

He strode off in the direction of Cuba Street, but the rest of us dawdled. There was far too much to look at to be in a hurry.

‘I wonder how long it’ll take him to work out he’s on his own,’ Biddo said.

But Paz and I were scarcely listening. We’d stopped, entranced, in front of a shop window with a holographic display of shoes – all sorts of shoes. They were dancing, plodding, skipping, kicking, all without legs attached. Sometimes they’d pair off with the wrong mate so that a clumsy-looking knee-high boot was waltzing with a sparkling sandal.

‘Come on,’ Biddo urged. ‘You’re gawping. Anyone’d think you’d never seen anything like it before.’

A good point. We dragged ourselves away.

Marba was waiting for us at the next intersection. ‘I’ve been thinking,’ he said, and waited till we’d finished groaning, ‘that we should keep our ears tuned. See if we can find out anything.’

‘About – um – key people, for instance?’ Biddo asked. He looked around, then lowered his voice further. ‘People who don’t want us here?’

‘Exactly!’ Marba beamed at him. Gold star for Biddo.

‘Teacher’s pet,’ I muttered.

Paz grabbed my arm to tow me across the road as the lights changed. ‘It makes sense, Juno. You can’t go burying your head.’ He thought about that. ‘Well, you can, I guess, but if you do we might end up having to bury the rest of you as well.’

I pulled my arm free. ‘Thanks a bunch.’ They were right, I knew they were – I just didn’t want it to be me who was still the target of worry. Me who was different. ‘I just want to be ordinary,’ I muttered.

‘You haven’t a hope,’ Paz said cheerfully. ‘You’ve inherited Fisa’s genes, so good luck with sinking into the masses.’

We didn’t say more until we turned into Cuba Street. Again we stopped to stare – until Biddo nudged us to move along through the crowd of people, some in clothes that seemed to be made of old-fashioned fabric, others wearing stuff that made Biddo’s fluoro jacket look dull. Music thrummed, though there were no musicians we could see. We wandered slowly, doing out best to look as if we were bored by the same old same old. But a strange fountain made of glittering buckets which tipped water into a pond was almost our downfall – it mesmerised us until Biddo gave a great yawn. ‘Oh for goodness’ sake, guys! Boring!’

I wished we could stare all we wanted, wonder and marvel at the myriad new colours, shapes, objects and people. But we couldn’t, and we mustn’t, if we wanted to stay safe.

Suddenly Biddo bounced on his toes. ‘Wow! Let’s go in there.’ He was pointing to a shop full of technological gear. His enthusiasm reminded me of the police dogs we’d seen at the wharf, hauling on their leashes to be off and away.

‘I’m not spending my precious time in there.’ I shoved my hands on my hips and stuck my chin out. ‘I am not going to hang about while you lot drool over … whatever. So there.’

But the boys didn’t listen. ‘Come on, Juno – you’ll love it. It’s all the new stuff that’s been invented while we were shut away on …’ Paz’s voice trailed away.

‘You go.’ I looked around, then pointed at the fountain. ‘I’ll meet you back here in half an hour. Don’t be late.’

They looked at me, then at the techno shop, then back at me. No way was I going to hang about in a place like that. They got the message.

‘Okay,’ Marba said. ‘But be careful.’

Yeah, yeah, grandpa.

I didn’t wait to watch them vanish into the shop of boredom. I was in a wonderland of rainbow colour, swirling noise and people whose faces and histories I had no knowledge of. For a few moments I sat on a bench just to savour the novelty of being alone in a crowd and unknown. Nobody looked at me; nobody frowned or withdrew from me, their faces knotted in disapproval. Bliss. I stretched out my legs and lifted my face to the sky – it was still overcast. A blue sky was a treat yet to come.

For the meantime, I had half an hour to myself in a place where nobody knew me. Where to go first? A shop with a window full of jewellery caught my eye. I stared at the rings and necklaces gleaming against a background of dark blue fabric, but I didn’t go in. The window was enough for now. The same with a clothing store. In the window was a statue of a woman whose clothing changed as I watched. First she wore a long coat of deep purple. Then the coat faded to show her wearing a severe black dress, but soon a ruffle appeared around the neckline, jet beading shone on the cuffs and the skirt became fuller so that it fell in soft drapes.

Mindful that I mustn’t appear overawed, I dragged myself away and began walking – and that’s when I found the bookshop. At first I thought it might be full of technology I didn’t know how to use. I didn’t want technology: I wanted proper books with real pages I could turn. I was lucky. This shop sold paper books, some new, but most old. I went inside. Books – shelves of them. Would I be allowed to touch them? I took myself off to a corner to watch what other people did. After a few minutes I worked out that I could take a book from the shelf, flick through it, then put it back.

I was absorbed, but even so I kept an eye on the time. I would not give those boys cause to moan that I was late back.

This, I decided, was where I wanted to spend my money, but every book I looked at cost more than five dollars. In desperation, with only a few minutes to spare, I approached the man behind the counter.

‘Can you help me? I’ve only brought five dollars with me. Do you have anything I could buy for that amount?’

He was young – probably not much older than Oban and Vima. His wiry hair sprang out from his head and his body was curved as though it spent too much time bending over a computer monitor. His smile was friendly. ‘There’s not much, I’m afraid. This sort of stuff is a bit of a luxury now.’ He frowned. ‘But why am I telling you that? You’re a book person, so you know it only too well.’