Whisper Gatherers (9 page)

“No steamshower?”

“No.”

“A pooplace at least?”

“Well, there is an organicwastebox.”

“I will have to relieve myself in a thing that does not flush?”

“Indeed. But it is hygienic in its own way.”

I pressed my head on the sticky outer surface of the container and emitted a lengthy groan.

“Ah, come on now, ye will adapt, ye are S.A.N.T. trained.”

“Only partially, I have not yet gone to camp.”

“Ye will thrive, I know it.”

I pulled away and wiped the sludgy stuff from my forehead. I did ask once what the containers were made from. Santy had no clue and merely said, “They are fashioned from the stuff they are fashioned from. Best not to wonder at things that are of little concern.”

Orva lay flat on her back and shuffled herself underneath the vastly box. Then reached up and twiddled something. A small flap flipped open and hung down. “This is how you enter and leave. Come follow me inside.” She pulled herself up and out of sight. I sank to the floor, as Orva had, and wriggled my way through the gap; which was indeed a tight fit.

The interior of the wastebin was a large cylindrical space that boasted nowt more than a small bed against one of the walls, two wooden chairs, a round wooden table in the centre, and a shelf opposite the bed that had a companel and vidscreen upon it.

It was illuminated by a series of small oblong light strips stuck to the ceiling that gave off a harsh white light and made the sound of an angry bumble. At the far end was the dreaded organicwastebox. In full view, not even behind a screen. I bit my lip and tried not to show my utter disappointment at the gloomy surroundings. Orva slapped me on the back. “Don’t look so glum. It’s not as bad as it looks. There are soft blankies to keep you warm. Stacks of provisions. Games enough to amuse you during your stay.”

“Which will not be long I trust?”

“We are doing everything we can to argue your case. We are close to them agreeing to go to trial.”

“What? But I’m no Crim.”

“We know that, but in order for you to live how you wish, laws must be written and old ways amended. That means…”

“A long drawn out legal battle.”

“Let us hope not so long.”

“Cheer up Adara, yer Santy is quite a talker and so to yer Greatgrangran.”

I groaned even louder than before. “No not her, she was the one that blabbed.”

“Aye, she is right sorry too. She will prevail, she has a quick and learned mind.”

“Now we must leave. The com device I gave you will not work so well inside this storage place. The materials used to make it are of an unusual mix. Signals can penetrate going in but not out. You cannot call us but we can speak to you.”

“Do nay look so forlorn, ye will be well.”

I sloped off to the not so comfy bed, lay down, and threw my arms across my face. For some reason, an image of Deogol flashed in front of my eyes. I sat up. “Where is Deogol?” Orva and Dreng looked at one another, then at the floor. I stood. My innards flipped flopped. I felt a coldness grip my chest. “Where is my bro?”

“Best if your Santy speaks to you of that. Truly Adara it is not our place. We are to keep you safe, please ask no more from us,” Orva said. She took off her backpack, rummaged around inside and took out several small objects. “Dreng, will you wait for me without?”

He nodded, gave me a cheerful face and left. When he was gone Orva walked to the table and plonked the stuff she retrieved from her bag onto it.

“Adara, let your expression lighten. Think not of your bro at this time.”

“How can I not when you are so evasive with info about his safety?”

“There was concern for him, but he is in no danger, that much I can relate.”

The rigidness in my shoulders relaxed. I sat upon one of the hard wooden chairs. Orva sat opposite me and waved her hand across the things strewn on the table before us. “I have left you some more personal supplies. Only as a precaution in case your stay here is for longer than anticipated. Some means of sanitising yourself with these Steriwipes, and Stayfresh cloths.”

Leaning forward, I saw amongst the cleaning stuff more intimate provisions for when the moon pulled upon my womb. A time fast approaching and a thing forgot in all the turmoil. I warmed to Orva and her thoughtfulness. Despite her muscular frame, short hair and lack of facial enhancements, I realised she was just as much a fem as myself. I smiled and she returned my gift with one of her own, then rose. “I too must leave you. Try to rest.” A beeping noise came from the comdevice. “Ah, I think that may be your Santy. Sleep well Adara,” she said, went through the hatch and closed it.

I picked up the portacom, clicked the on the speak button and said, “Where is Deogol?”

Santy Breanna’s voice was calm. I clenched my eyes tight and wished that I were at home. “He is in his room. Now, that is. When all the fuss died down, I returned, he was gone. Caused quite a panic. Who told you he went missing? Orva?”

“Nah, I just had a feeling. Is he well?”

“Yes, but, even more broody and withdrawn than before. He refuses to tell where and with whom he has been with. He didn’t even ask about your welfare.”

“He has something going on I think.”

“For sure. I have forbade him to go outside.”

“Yeah, right, like that is a punishment.”

“It would seem to be on this occasion, for when I said those words he became most vocal and threw his food at the wall.”

“Strange behaviour.”

“It is indeed, but you must not fret. Greatgrangran and I are to visit the council just after sunup. We will have you home by noon.”

“You sound most sure.”

“Adara, the folk reacted unreasonably, they know that. I believe they are sincerely ashamed. Besides, they have the Praisebees and perhaps Carnievale to think of. Odd noises and light flashes have been heard and seen without.”

“What of the Praisebees?” I said, becoming less concerned about my drab environment and more interested in their fate.

“They are being held in the Decontamination place. Seemed appropriate. Did you see their feet?”

An image of Elijah’s filthy toenails entered my noggin. I near retched at the memory of it. “I did. Gruesome. What of the two that escaped with me?”

“What two? I did not know of this?”

I closed my mouth and heard Santy ask if I was still there. I said I was and there came a long pause. “Where are they, Adara?”

“That you must ask Orva and Dreng.”

“Oh, I will.”

“Santy?”

“Yes?”

“The male juve Praisebee, he is ill. I do not think he is like the others. But the fem, she is I believe, a Carnie. Most of the other one’s too I think. I saw bits of fleshy stuff in their teeth when they let forth with their wailings. I cannot be certain sure, but the Lilith one is. I saw her nibbling on something that resembled a bone, when she thought she was alone.”

“Info duly noted.” Santy’s voice lost is gentleness and if I were sitting across the eating table at home, I would see her face darken and her mouth turn downwards. “I must say goodlynightly to you now. When the meeting is done I will convey what went on.”

“Santy?”

“Yes?”

“Air kiss Deogol for me.”

“I will, and do the same to you.”

I switched off the comdevice and put my head in my hands. So much had occurred that I could not rightly get to grips with any of it. I was befuddled indeed.

Images of blood encrusted Prasiebees screaming and shouting swirled inside my skull. Then the face of Elijah, wan and skeletal filled my noggin until I thought it would burst. I stood, but came over faint, so put my hand upon the back of the chair to steady myself. I found it difficult to breathe. For an instant, I saw the space closing in on me. With the walls moving ever nearer and the ceiling rushing down. I crouched on the floor and let my lungs empty in the form of a scream.

Chapter Eleven

Everything Changes

There was drool in the corner of my mouth. My neck was stiff. I rolled onto my back and felt the cold of the not-really-metal-or-plastic floor, seep into my flesh. I shivered, rubbed my arms to promote circulation, then stood. The bright buzzing lights hurt my eyes and my stomach yearned for food. I yawned, stretched, said, “Ow.” as my muscles clicked. I went to the organicwastebox, lifted the lid and peered inside. There was a gloopy looking brown liquid in the bottom that smelled like autumn leaves.

Despite being quite alone, I found it difficult to do my bowel movements in the open. I longed for a door to hide me, and for a sweet-smelling bumwipe to cleanse said bot. Much had occurred to make me toughen up, so I told myself that I was at home in the hope it would get my innards going. To my great relief, it worked.

Nad. I forgot to grab a wipe from the table. With my pants around my ankles, I tottered over to it, and took a handful of cleaning cloths. Thoroughly cleansed of all traces of poop, I threw the soiled wipes into the wastebox. I looked for a handle by which to engage the flushing action. There was nowt except for a sign saying, ‘Place all soiled items into the bowl. Close the lid’. I did and hoped the smell that hovered above my head would soon dissipate.

I ambled back to the table and picked up several scented swabs. These I used to clean areas of my bod that were given over to stinkiness. Then I rifled through the grubbox for something to eat. I found some self-heating porridge, pulled out the activation tab, waited for the small yellow patch at the side to turn red, then supped it down, straight from the package. I longed to be free of this gloomy place and wondered if the sun had risen. Or the moon, having no notion of what part of the day or night it was.

This made me agitated once more. I took in some long breaths and searched the chamber for the source of fresh air. I slid my hands across the walls, which were smooth, not slimy like they were on the outside, and felt tiny holes all over. My nose touched the surface. Yep, I had to be that close to actually see the minute apertures that punctured the entire surface. No wonder it was cold. Still, a cunning way of aerating the place. I pressed my eye to an opening, but it was too small. All I saw was the outline of my lashes.

My feet hurt from the lack of warmth, so I jumped on the spot to create heat. It did the trick. I took to jogging around the space to give me something to do other than worry. Besides, I missed the ritual of running up the stairs to our home.

When I was out of breath, and to my dismay, all sweaty, I lay on the bed. My thoughts turned to the fate of Elijah and Lilith. Why did Orva and Dreng not tell Santy about them? A thought occurred to me that they meant to leave them in the room to starve. I sat upright and forced my mind to think of less unpleasant things. It didn’t work, so I resorted to amusing myself by playing the vidgames that lay on the shelf.

They were old in design, basic in graphics and were not up to the standard I was used to. One was a sort of puppet show of a fave ancient play show. Aamlet Prince of the Great Dane. Dramdram was the only lesson I paid attention to in class. I don’t know why I favoured the shouty male and his grief-filled procrastinations, but I did. The visuals were dodgy, though, so I went back to the game thingy’s instead. They made a pleasing sound. Some even had tunes I recognised. I sang along with them and became less a-feared.

One of the distractions was a cartoony-style kiddles sport called, ‘Birdyseek’. Although quite lame, it had the most realistic birdybirdy sounds. I let the thing run on and listened to the many different twitterings. I tried to filter out the singsonginess in order to concentrate on what they all had in common, such as pitch and inflection. When I thought I had located a recurrent tweet, I began to mimic it. Thusly preoccupied, I practised for quite some secs until I believed I had mastered the tunefulness and modulation. That was why the birdies did not come before. I was singing the wrong song.

I strode around the room and let rip loud and clear. If I had been outside I dare say flocks of birdles would have descended. Closing my eyes, I imagined myself in a field with flowers, butterflies, and birdybirds perched upon my shoulders. Not that I’d ever been in an actual field, all this memorypic stuff came from downloads on the vidcomp.

The portacom beeped. I opened my lids right quick then raced over to it. I clicked it on. Santy’s voice! “Goodly news indeed. They have come to a compromise regarding your talent. Which I explained was not developed beyond the embryonic stage. Greatgran Amranwen presented your case with gusto, and even managed to get them to agree for you to attend S.A.N.T. camp when you are of age.”

I shouted with much glee, “So, I can come home?”

“Indeed, you can. There is one thing, though, a condition that I could not help but agree to. The alternative was Decontamination.”

I gulped. “What is the condition?”

“That you practice your skill for the gathering to honour the OneGreatProvider. They want you to bring some birdybirds for all to gaze upon.”

“Nah, won’t do that. Might turn into a massacre of the little things. What with the Carnies lurking somewhere nearby.”

“It is the one and only condition.”

“I’m surprised you agreed.”

“I told you the alternative. Do you relish the thought of being decontaminated? Do you forget how it was for Deogol?”

“No. But Santy, it is wrong for me to do this. What if the sight of said birdles causes some folk to turn their thoughts towards the consumption of meat?”

“It is a risk to be sure. There are many who look back to the time before the Great famine and long for a taste of flesh. I have heard talk of those that have eaten it and would do so again. Perhaps, though, it may put folk’s mind at rest. All of this subterfuge and hiding, it is no way to live. Your gift should be celebrated.”

“But the Carnies. All know they are near. It may bring them forth eager and nasty.”

“There is that. However, we will have the advantage if such a thing does occur. Perhaps it would be best if they were to be flushed out like that. Their nefarious ways only add to the fear, once outed they will seem less of a threat and will think twice before troubling us with their strange doings. Nowt good can come from their vile amusements.”