The Territory (20 page)

I did the most terrible thing today. I betrayed Raf and I can’t do anything to take it back.

I hadn’t talked to Jack since Daisy’s death and I knew things were going to be difficult. As soon as I saw him enter the classroom, I could tell he was in the foulest mood ever. From the frown criss-crossing his forehead, to his searchlight eyes, to the way he was hunching his shoulders, it was as if a dark vortex of anger was spiralling above his head, ready to engulf us all. OK, that sounds massively dramatic and it wasn’t quite like that, but looking back, it should have been.

He caught my eye and then looked away. Determined to talk to him and massively guilt-driven at having abandoned him over the weekend, I went up to his desk. He was sat facing away from me, staring at a knot of wood in front of him. I ruffled his hair. He normally likes this. It’s one of our things. He didn’t like it today, just pushed me away.

‘Where were you?’ Jack spat, turning to face me. ‘I needed you. I needed to talk. About Daisy. I called. I kept on calling.’ Anger started to turn to overwhelming sadness. Which was even worse. ‘Where were you, Noa?’ He sounded like Rex when he’d had this huge splinter in his paw. His eyes were the same too.

‘I’m sorry, Jack. I should have called. I know I should have called. I’m so, so sorry. But I’m here now.’

‘Were you with him?’ Jack’s voice was scarily neutral.

Silence.

‘Well were you?’ His eyes were now more Ms Jones on a caffeine pill than Rex.

I nodded.

Jack half snorted, half bark-laughed. ‘That’s SO typical, you know, Noa. You act like you’re this GREAT friend. Like you’re SO concerned. Like you’ll help your STUPID friends revise when it suits you as it makes you feel better and cleverer. But at the end of the day, you really don’t give a crap. It’s all about you, always has been. You’re like a freakoid. No, I take it back. You’re worse than a freakoid. At least they don’t pretend to care and then throw it all back in your face.’

I couldn’t quite believe I was hearing this. I’d never heard Jack speak like this. Never. Tears started forming behind my eyes but I manically blinked them back.

‘I guess I should have seen it coming. I mean when it comes down to it, no Norm is good enough for you. Not me, who you treat like some kind of toy. And certainly not Daisy. I mean Noa, seriously, Daisy’s been there for you your whole life, but you don’t even have time to mourn her as you’re too busy snogging your new freakoid boyfriend.’

Maybe anger’s catching. Either way, I could feel it flow through me, cell by cell. I was aware we had quite an audience by now, but it was like the play button was jammed and I couldn’t stop.

‘How can you seriously stand there and say this crap?’ I shouted back. ‘Do you really think I don’t care what’s happened to Daisy? What they’ve done to my best friend? I mean, really? And you – I’ve always been there for you, always.’

‘Not since you’ve met Mr Robot, you’ve haven’t. What’s he’s got, exactly? Do you secretly want to be a freakoid. Is that it? Do you get a kinky sort of thrill as you watch him plug in? Turns you on, does it, Noa?’

‘Shut up! Just shut up right now! You don’t know what you’re talking about. Raf’s an amazing guy. A better and smarter person than you’ll ever be.’

‘Yeah, ’cos life’s really hard when you upload isn’t it? He’s got enough time to entertain you, does he? Does better than me in tests, does he? What a surprise!’

‘He doesn’t even upload!’ The words were out of my mouth before they even registered in my brain. Floating across the air of the classroom. Like poison gas.

A deathly silence fell. Everyone turned to look at me and then at Raf, whose presence I suddenly became aware of. He must have just come in. I willed Raf to look at me, but he just stared past, expressionless, chewing gum.

I don’t know when Ms Jones entered the room, but she made herself known with a sudden intake of breath. Like she was hoovering up all the discomfort and fear in the room and feeding off it. Her eyes sparkled dangerously. She’d never liked Raf. She’d marked him out as different. And now she knows why.

‘Noa Blake, is this true?’

I stood immobile, not knowing what to do.

‘Noa, answer me truthfully. If you lie, I WILL know and I’ll deduct another five points from your TAA score.’ Everyone sucked in their breath at that. Five points was unheard of. Five points was a death sentence.

Before I could answer Raf stood up. ‘It’s true,’ he said. ‘I didn’t upload for the last test.’

‘And may I ask why?’ Ms Jones’ words were honey-coated venom. ‘Are you above your fellow Childes? It is almost as if you don’t trust the information we are providing you with? Is it that, Rafael? Do you not trust the uploads?’

Raf was very still and pale but I could see the battle raging inside him. To admit he didn’t trust the uploads would be seen as an attack on the system and mark him out as a Subversive. To say he did trust the uploads would be a direct lie.

Raf did what was necessary. What I would have done. He lied. ‘My Port’s broken at the moment,’ he muttered. ‘It’s being mended. It won’t happen again.’

‘Well, that’s good to hear.’ Ms Jones smiled. She’s most dangerous when she’s smiling. ‘Then you won’t mind coming with me to the library for a catch-up upload. To check that you have this year’s material correctly stored.’

And then she led him out of the room. And that’s when he finally looked at me, his eyes like Mr Patel’s when he had seen the baton rise, when he knew it was too late to run.

I couldn’t help myself. I followed Ms Jones and Raf to the library. He was half-hidden by a screen but I could still see. See her sit him by a Port. See her bend down to pick up the wire and hand it to Raf. See him with his hand in front of his mouth, almost gagging, before taking it and plugging it in. Then his eyes went all white and he sat and shook for a solid ten minutes until Ms Jones declared, ‘That’s enough,’ and unplugged him. He sat limp. As if the lifeforce had been sucked out of him. Then he took one big breath. Then another. Then another. And with each breath his back became straighter; his head held higher.

He stood up and started the walk back to the classroom. This time he walked shoulder to shoulder with Ms Jones: her equal rather than her victim.

I followed, a lame shadow, trying to telepath out a connection. As Raf turned to enter the classroom, he looked at me. Directly in the eye.

‘Raf,’ was all I could manage.

His expression was stone. No spark in his eye. No trace of wolf in his face.

‘Out of my way, Norm.’

Five days to go now. God! This must be what it feels like to be on Death Row. At least there you get to choose a final meal. Mine would definitely not include mucor or any form of algae. And death is quick. Well, used to be. According to Jack’s step-dad, they’re apparently stopping trying criminals and will just dump them in the Wetlands instead. Prisons and courts are a waste of dry land. As if Fish don’t have enough to deal with. What’s worse, Jack’s step-dad mentioned it like it was some great news ’cos it’s his transport company that’ll probably get the contract to do the dumping.

I don’t know if it’s possible to cram any more. It seems that I’m now so saturated with facts that everytime I try and put something new in my brain, something I’ve already learnt pops out. Mum keeps on telling me to take a break. But seriously? NO ONE takes a break with two days to go, even if they’ve just lost their boyfriend and their best friend has died. I guess the will to survive is pretty strong.

Another unwelcome fact from Jack (presumably via his step-dad again): six per cent of students suffer seizures from lack of sleep on one or both of the exam days and four per cent try to kill themselves by shoving styluses up their noses and then ramming their heads down on their desk. Goes straight through the brain. Apparently. I think Jack felt guilty at sharing this choice information when he saw how ready to puke I looked.

‘I thought it’d cheer you up,’ he said.

‘Denser.’

‘What I was trying to say is that’s ten per cent of the competition gone.’

And I nearly smiled and was actually a bit pleased when I registered this. What sort of sick people have we become?

Jack studied here tonight. He’s my rock again. Which I guess means I’ve been reduced to a limpet.

I hated him. Violently hated him after what happened to Raf. But then I realised that it was really just me that I hated. After all, it was me not Jack who’d betrayed Raf. Me that’d effectively killed him and given them an empty body to freakoid up. And Jack was so devastated by what happened. So we just sort of comforted each other. And it feels like the return of a lost limb. It’s nice. An oasis of nice in the middle of a big load of nasty.

Time studying is also time not thinking about Raf or Daisy. Which is good. Necessary. Or I might start shoving styluses up my nose. Seeing Raf is so hard. And that means every day is so hard as he’s in nearly all my classes. I swear I caught him staring at me in Geography yesterday. Jack was rubbing my back as I had a massive stress knot and Raf’s eyes went all narrow and slity like a wolf that wasn’t sexy but that might actually eat you. I nearly cried there and then like a right loser at the level of hate or contempt he felt for me. Knowing that I was now just a Norm to him. A nobody. And he, even in spite of the upload, was still such a somebody to me.

Tonight I just want to sleep. No dreams, just oblivion.

I read
The Diary of Anne Frank
when I was ten. It’s not on our Scribes, but Dad had a really old copy from when he was young. He said I should read it as it was ‘a lesson in amazing bravery’.

‘Anne’s bravery?’ I remember asking.

‘Yes, that too, but also that of the family that protected her and hid her from the Nazis.’

And I remember thinking, but surely that’s just what anyone who’s not an evil Jew-murdering Nazi would do, isn’t it?

We were woken at 1am by the knock at the door. Rap. Once. Pause. Then rap, rap. Twice. Then rap, once, again. Then rap, rap, rap, rap, rap, each knock like a short staccato note. Long pause. Then the whole sequence was repeated again. As my still half-asleep brain began to process what going on, I could feel adrenaline begin to pump around my body in time with the knocks. It was the code. Ella and Aunty Vicki’s emergency code. By the time I had my dressing gown on and was staggering out into the main room, I could hear Mum and Dad arguing.

‘Don’t open the door, Rachel,’ Dad was urging. ‘You already know what they want and we can’t. We just can’t.’

‘They’re family. We can’t just bolt out family.’

‘Rachel, no! Think of Noa. She’s got one more day at home till her exams. She doesn’t need this. You’re putting her at risk too.’

It was too late, Mum had already pulled back the bolt and opened the door.

Ella and Aunty Vicki’s faces peered in, almost ghostly white against the black corridor. Something about their faces made me think of twin rabbits. Albino rabbits in the biology lab cage at school.

Mum ushered them in and then checked and rechecked the corridor for witnesses.

‘No one saw us, Rachel,’ Aunty Vicki said. ‘The policeman was patrolling the other end of the street.’

‘What about the camera on the ground floor?’ Mum asked Aunty Vicki, her voice little more than a whisper.

Aunty Vicki held up a hammer and balaclava by way of explanation.

‘It’s broken.’

There was this really long static silence.