Perfect Flaw (23 page)

Ninah stared in astonishment, her heart racing, her mind in tumult. Part of her was frightened, worried because she had not received the usual week’s notice allowing her parents time to organise the traditional party. But a more jubilant part of her realised that her loneliness and suffering was at last close to ending. In a few days, she and Trum would be able to be partnered for life.

She scampered over the cobblestone grounding of the town to her dome, where her parents, efficient as ever, were already packing a travelbag for her. “It’s a bit sudden, isn’t it?” her mother snapped at her as she entered. “What have you been up to?”

Ninah shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe they’ve just remembered me,” she said. “Phaedra Collan was months younger than me when it was her time, and she was the oldest ever. I was starting to think they’d forgotten me and I’d end up alone like Widow Sarich.”

Ninah’s father nodded his balding head slowly. “The administrators have certainly been busy lately,” he muttered, his deep voice contrasting with his wiry frame. “They have a hard job keeping the mineworkers nourished on such an arid planet as this. Our predecessors were stupid to destroy so many plants before they realised that they drew water up to the surface. Graal could have had thirty or forty more hydroponic farms if they hadn’t wiped out so many Copses.”

Mother Tressard cleared her throat uncomfortably. “It doesn’t do to speak ill of the administrators,” she murmured. “People can only survive here by sticking strictly to the rules. You wouldn’t want to be shipped out ... or worse.”

Father Tressard looked uneasy. “I wasn’t speaking ill of them,” he said, his voice unnaturally loud. “Just commenting on what the first settlers did. It wasn’t anyone’s fault ...”

“Well, here’s your bag, Ninah,” said her mother, clearly changing the subject. “I’m sorry you haven’t had a party. Maybe we’ll have a late one for you, if you get back.”

“When I get back, you mean,” said Ninah truculently. “I have no intention of being turned into some hairy giant of a man, whatever award they offer me. I don’t expect it’ll be more than a couple of days before I’m home again. And then you’ll have something really important to celebrate!”

She took the bag from her mother’s shaking hand and glanced around the dome. Sparsely furnished, and with much of its communal space given over to her parents’ workstations, it was hardly cosy. But it was the only home she had ever known, and her eyes tingled as she looked around it.

Her father suddenly strode across the room and shook her roughly by the hand. “I hope it goes well, Ninah,” he said unsteadily. “You’ll have to excuse me. I am getting behind with my work.” He walked back to his vidscreen and pressed a few buttons on the fascia beneath it. Then he just sat back and stared at his reflection.

Mother Tressard put her soft hands on Ninah’s shoulders, as though she were about to give her a hug. But she just nodded and cleared her throat. “Whatever happens will be for the best,” she said, enunciating each word slowly and distinctly. “Have a safe journey.”

Ninah smiled. “I’ll see you in no time,” she said cheerily. “No need to get all silly about it.”

She ran out of the dome and towards the landing bay, without seeing her mother’s eyes fill with tears and her mother’s lips mouth the words “Goodbye, my child.”

The ship’s door slid open as Ninah approached. She paused and turned to take another look at Gamma Town. Many of her friends and neighbours stood by the doors of their domes, waving and smiling encouragingly. Mother Eflond held both her small daughters, one in each arm, while her plump little husband stood beside her staring expressionlessly at the ship. Father and Mother

Collan had walked over from the farm, but stood too far away for Ninah to hear what they were saying to each other. Several other farmers stood beside the Collans, waving cheerily, and the doorways of the supply depot were crammed with workers jostling to get a good view. Ninah knew that Trum would be among them, but would be too gentle to force his way to the front.

It was a great rarity for so many people to be outside at the same time, and for a moment there was an air of festivity. But it was only a moment. “Enter at once, Ninah Tressard,” crackled the loudspeaker impatiently, and Ninah did as she was told.

The door slid shut behind her before she could look to see if Widow Sarich had come out to see her off, so she took a couple of steps forward and sat on the hard green plastic bench which ran in a semi-circle along half the diameter of the ship. The pilot’s area was closed off and the rest of the cabin was featureless, so Ninah pursed her lips and made herself as comfortable as she could.

She was scarcely aware of the craft rising into the air, but felt distinctly queasy when it shot off towards Alpha Town. She looked in her bag for some sweets to suck, but her parents had never been in favour of anything so unhealthy and all she found was a small packet of travel-sickness pills. Not for the first time, Ninah thought of the effective way her mother and father always took care of her, even if they seemed to do so without much tenderness. She took a couple of the travel pills with a can of processed rhubarb juice, and devoted her time to imagining what she would wear to her partnering with Trum. Somehow, it never occurred to her to wonder what he would wear. When she pictured him in her mind, it was always in the sand-stained blue jerkin and breeches he had worn when he first scooted into Gamma.

Eschewing the narrow bench for the comparative comfort of the floor, Ninah eventually lay down and dozed, the barely perceptible throbbing of the craft’s engines making her feel strangely at ease. It was quite a shock when she awoke to the sound of the door sliding open and an irritable voice calling her name.

She got up and, remembering just in time to pick up her bag, walked out of the ship to find herself in a covered landing bay. A dozen slender blue pillars supported its slightly domed roof, and the floor was grimy and pitted with holes and scratches. The place smelled like the noisy machines that trundled around her parents’ farm.

A tall man with white hair and a long beard, dressed from head to toe in a dark grey robe, was standing outside, tapping on the metallic ground with a stick made of glistening black wood. “Follow me,” he barked, when Ninah appeared.

He led her into an adjacent building, the largest the young girl had ever seen. It would have been big enough for the whole of Gamma Town to fit inside it three or four times over. Inside, though as sparsely furnished as most places Ninah had been, it was cool and bright, and there were even a few windows spaced along the exterior walls. Through them, Ninah could see several large Copses and a corresponding number of hydroponic farms. There were also a few other large buildings, though none rivalled the staggering dimensions of the one she was in. A cluster of residence-domes filled the cobbled space between the larger buildings; Ninah noticed that most of them were one-person domes, and that they all had their doors open as though their inhabitants had no sense of privacy.

She scuttled along the winding corridors behind the tall man, barely keeping up with his long strides and too out of breath to ask him any questions, wondering whether the tap-tap of his stick would be loud enough for her to follow if she fell too far behind. Occasionally a man or woman would pass her, walking swiftly in the opposite direction, or hastening up one of the sets of staircases which punctuated the inner wall of the corridor. Ninah smiled at the first three or four strangers she saw, but every one of them stared straight ahead as though they did not see her, so she quickly gave up.

Almost before she had time to stop, the tall man swung round and walked up a flight of stairs. He moved much more slowly, and leaned heavily on his stick, so Ninah was able to catch up with him. “Where are we going?” she asked. “...Sir,” she added after an interval, thinking it might be wise to show some respect.

The old man turned his humourless face towards her. “To your Choosing, of course,” he snapped. “You should have been taught about it by your Tutor. I’ll have to make a complaint ...”

“No,” Ninah interrupted. “I do know about it. I just meant where are we going this very minute?”

The man scowled. “Never interrupt me,” he said. “You farmer children have no idea how to behave properly. The sooner you are processed the better.” He paused at the top of the stairs and caught his breath. “We are going to the medical examination area,” he told her.

In silence, Ninah stumbled along as he led her into a very bright room crammed full of gleaming white machinery, covered in dials and switches and flashing lights. In the middle of the room stood an old wooden desk, half buried beneath piles of papers and books. It seemed out of place amongst all the technical equipment. There was a tall blonde woman sitting at the desk, slightly older than Ninah’s mother and wearing a green smock. She looked up when the pair entered and her thin lips formed a smile but her cold grey eyes did not change. “Ninah Tressard from Gamma Town?” she asked.

The tall man nodded before Ninah could answer.

“Welcome to your choosing, Child Tressard,” the woman said, standing up and approaching the young girl. “I am Doctor Chadwick. Please take your clothes off and stand on that pad.” She pointed towards a glass cubicle in the corner where the open door revealed a thin grey mat on the floor.

Ninah coughed nervously and looked at the tall man, who had taken a seat beside the desk. The Doctor’s eyes followed her gaze. “That is Administrator Lucas,” she said curtly. “He is responsible for your Choosing. He has to remain.”

Ninah clenched her fists involuntarily, wishing there were someone with her that she knew, who could advise her what to do.

“Be quick, Child,” snapped Lucas. “I have much work and cannot afford to devote all day to one farmer’s brat.”

Her heart racing, Ninah stepped over to the cubicle and, seeking some element of privacy from the head-high computers which abutted it, slowly stripped off her garments. The Doctor took her by the arm and walked her up onto the pad, roughly forcing her to turn towards the Administrator. Though she closed her eyes, Ninah could feel the old man’s dispassionate gaze slide over her naked body, appraising the slender torso, the small breasts, the narrow bony hips, the fuzz of red hair between her skinny legs. Ninah felt as though she were suffocating, and her skin had turned almost as red as her hair. “Not very womanly,” muttered the Administrator to the Doctor. “But she’s older than most of them.” He stared straight at Ninah. “Are you a virgin, Child?”

Ninah cringed, trying to cover herself with her hands. She nodded rapidly, unable to speak, fighting back tears of humiliation. She had never imagined her Choosing would be like this.

“It makes no difference to the procedure whether she is or not,” the Doctor muttered. “Let me carry out the physical examination.” Forcing Ninah to rest her arms against her sides, the Doctor attached a number of tiny sensors to the girl’s shivering body. Ninah jerked her head back and bit her lip when the blonde woman’s cold hand pushed her legs apart and slid something metallic inside her. A spot of blood dripped onto the girl’s chin. “Stand very still now,” the Doctor ordered her. She stepped back and closed the cubicle door. Ninah felt her whole body tingle and could make out a faint humming which seemed different from that of the dome filters; it reminded her of the moaning sound the Nards made when their throats were cut prior to them being gutted and cooked. She had no idea of how long she stood there, but was close to collapse when the tingling and the humming sound stopped simultaneously and the Doctor opened the door and disconnected the sensors. “You can get dressed now, and the Administrator will take you to your room for the night.”

With her back to the staring man, Ninah hurriedly put her clothes back on. A little of her confidence returned when she had done so. Though she could look neither of the adults in the face, she asked the question that was paramount in her mind. “When do I make my Choosing?”

“What are you talking about?” Lucas asked her crossly. He stood up and began walking towards the door.

“Who do I tell that I Choose to stay a female?” Ninah asked plaintively. “I am not interested in any award.”

The Doctor had reseated herself behind her antique desk. “We don’t do that any more,” she said curtly. “Not enough girls were volunteering, and we are desperately short of males. It is we who do the Choosing now, depending on the suitability of the subject. You will find out in due course what our decision is, after I have processed your tests. You probably already know that your Town is unusually productive, and has given us a hundred per cent acceptability rate in recent years. Please go with Administrator Lucas now.”

It seemed to Ninah that the room had suddenly started to spin, and that she was about to be flung against one of the walls. She reached out her hand to steady herself, and the tall man grabbed her by the elbow. He dragged her outside and further along the featureless corridor. Before she had regained her self-control, she found herself lying on a narrow bunk in a tiny bedchamber listening to the only door click locked behind her. Satisfied that she was at last alone, she made no further effort to hold back her tears. Sobbing uncontrollably, she lay alone and ignored until unconsciousness overcame her.

She was wakened by the click of the door being unlocked before it slid open. Doctor Chadwick stood there, holding a large glass of milk. “Drink this,” she ordered.

“What is going to happen to me?” Ninah asked, her voice tense. “When will I be told?”

The Doctor thrust the glass into Ninah’s unsteady hand. “A decision has been made. You will learn it when the Administrators give their formal consent. Now drink!” She stared unblinkingly at the frightened child. Though the surface of the milk seemed to be sprinkled with tiny black dots which were moving back and forth like boats on a lake, Ninah was too frightened to disobey. She gulped at the warm nutmeg-flavoured liquid, finding it surprisingly refreshing, then meekly handed the empty glass back to the Doctor.

Without another word, the blonde woman turned and walked out, locking the door behind her. Ninah stared at the blank wall for a moment, then began to feel extremely drowsy. As she lay back down, her body started to itch from the inside as though it were full of spiders. But she was too tired to care.