The Boundless Sublime (32 page)

‘Let me through,’ I said.

They closed ranks in front of me, blocking my way.

‘Go and tell Daddy,’ said the tall Monkey to the thin one. ‘Tell him there’s a snake.’

The thin, pale Monkey nodded, and scampered past me down the path. I didn’t worry too much about him – I knew Daddy wasn’t to be disturbed.

The tall Monkey pushed the door shut.

I stepped back and searched the façade for another door, or a window – there had to be a way in.

‘You won’t find anything,’ said a voice behind me, and I spun around, my heart pounding.

It was a Monkey, the one who had been hiding in the toilets on my very first day. Who ate Val’s snow peas and took his cicada husks. I recognised her freckles and orange stubbled hair. She looked older now, thinner, with dark circles under her eyes. Where had she come from? She must have been hiding in the bushes the whole time.

‘If you want to get into Daddy’s laboratory, you have to go in either through the front door or through the Monkey House. But both doors are locked all the time. Daddy has one key. But there’s another.’

‘Where?’ I asked. ‘Where’s the other key?’

‘Up in a cupboard. In there.’ She jerked her head towards the closed door.

‘Can you get it for me?’ I asked. ‘The key?’

The Monkey shook her head, and I noticed bruises on her wrists, as if she’d been tied up.

Anger and frustration boiled up inside me.

‘I have to get in there,’ I told her. ‘I can help you.’

‘You can’t get in there,’ she said. ‘Someone will see. But …’ She trailed off.

‘But what?’

The Monkey looked around, as if to check that no one was watching us. ‘Sometimes Daddy comes to the Monkey House after dinner and tells us a bedtime story.’

I shook my head. ‘So?’

The Monkey rolled her eyes, as if she thought me unspeakably stupid.

‘So he doesn’t go to the Sanctum,’ she said.

I waited. But Daddy came to Family Time every evening. Since the Quintus Septum had risen to power, Family Time had changed. We didn’t sing or laugh. Daddy didn’t tell us funny stories. Instead, we talked quietly about the coming war. Daddy told us more about the Quintus Septum, about the horrors that they would bring, and made frequent reference to his grand plan to defeat them, although he never revealed any details. We retired early, as soon as Daddy had chosen a companion and retired to the Sanctum.

There was plenty of chatter about what went on in the Sanctum. The Institute women seemed immensely proud to be chosen, and were eager to tell of the supernatural experiences they had when receiving Daddy’s actuality – being surrounded
by light, floating up to the ceiling, hearing the ringing of a thousand bells. I’d been told that Daddy’s choice of companion depended on the balance inside each woman. We were incomplete without the actuality of a man, but some needed more balancing than others. It had taken weeks for Pippa’s actuality to be balanced. Currently he was working with a woman called Cibinensis – Cibby – who had large, doe-like eyes and a stammer. He never chose Lib, or Newton. They had been at the Institute for years, and their actualities had reached equilibrium long ago. Lib’s face always darkened when Daddy chose a new woman, and I wondered if she got jealous.

One night, he stood up and looked around, his eyes skating over Cibby and assessing the other women present. For a moment his gaze locked with mine, and I felt exposed, as if he was assessing my naked body, prying into my mind, my secrets, my doubts.

He was going to choose me.

Excuses piled into my mind. I had a headache. I had my period. I wasn’t eighteen yet. But Daddy would know I was trying to stall. I hadn’t had a period for months. I’d assumed it was because I was becoming sublime, because I was learning to control my body. Now I wished it back.

I tried to tell myself that it was an honour, that I needed it in order to be sublime. But the idea of having sex with Daddy filled me with revulsion, and no number of stories of glowing light and magical bells was going to change that. And it was happening. Daddy was going to choose me, and there was nothing I could do to stop him.

But his eyes flicked away.

‘Ashmole,’ he said, his voice light. ‘Would you please join me in the Sanctum.’

I felt a flood of relief as I saw the blood drain from Ash’s face. She glanced at Toser, who looked stricken.

‘Is …’ Ash swallowed. ‘Is it compulsory?’

Daddy’s smile took on a blandness, and I knew he was angry. ‘Not at all,’ he said mildly. ‘I would never dream of forcing you to do anything against your will.’

Ash looked relieved, but Toser’s face was still drawn with concern. He knew that it wasn’t that simple.

‘As I have explained before,’ said Daddy, ‘my technic works one hundred per cent of the time, when followed correctly. If you do not wish to follow the technic, you are free to leave.’

‘It is a great honour to receive Daddy’s actuality,’ Cibby murmured to Ash. ‘It will help you reach sublimation.’

Toser nodded to Ash. ‘Go on.’

Ash’s eyes filled with tears, and she stood up, trembling.

Daddy smiled. ‘You won’t regret it,’ he said. ‘I promise.’

Daddy chose Ash the next night as well. This time, Ash didn’t cry or tremble. Instead she wore a kind of robotic blankness, following Daddy to the Sanctum with her head bowed, her eyes never meeting Toser’s. She didn’t look elutriated, or balanced. I didn’t know what it was that Daddy had done to her, but I knew I didn’t want him to do it to me.

Looking back, I realise now that I’d already made up my mind. I knew that receiving Daddy’s actuality wouldn’t make me sublime, that nothing would. But I wasn’t ready to face what that meant. I needed something. A sign. Evidence to confirm my doubts.

Before I headed to bed, I made my way over to Pippa. We hadn’t spoken since the incident with the ring, and she was subdued and pale.

She looked at me as I sat down beside her, then lowered her head to look at the ground. Her hand was wrapped in thick white bandages.

‘Heracleitus,’ she murmured.

‘Pippa,’ I said. ‘I wanted to make sure there are no hard feelings between us.’

Pippa’s head jerked from side to side in an emphatic shake, and she reached out and took my hands in hers. The gauze of her bandage was rough against my skin.

‘Never, Heracleitus,’ she said, her voice low and intense. ‘I must thank you. You … saved me. I was in danger of falling into darkness. But you showed me the light.’

I remembered the crunching of bone beneath my fingers, and pulled my hands away. ‘I’m glad you’re doing well.’

‘I am,’ she said. ‘Thanks to you.’

‘Thanks to Daddy,’ I reminded her, my voice a little stern.

‘Of course,’ said Pippa. ‘Daddy is
everything
.’ Her voice throbbed with emotion.

‘Yes,’ I agreed, hoping she wouldn’t notice the doubt in my own voice.

On the following night, Daddy didn’t join us for Family Time. Someone mentioned he was with the Monkeys.

I excused myself, murmuring about needing to use the toilet, and slipped out of the warehouse into the night. There was no one around – everyone was talking quietly in the warehouse. I entered A Block and padded down the corridor until I came to Daddy’s Inner Sanctum. My heart pounded, and I stood outside the door for a long, agonising moment, straining my ears for the faintest noise.

Nothing.

I opened the door.

The room was unchanged. White walls and floor. Soft white cushions and flickering candles. I slipped inside and closed the door behind me with a soft click. It was like Operation Hush-Hush again, but a thousand times more dangerous. It was easy to thwart the docile, aphotic toxicants, but Daddy was another story altogether. He was sharp. He was sublime. And I knew what happened when one of us disappointed him.

At the back of the room was the pale wooden desk with two drawers. I swallowed. I had no idea what I was looking for. I opened the left-hand drawer, wincing at the squeak of wood on wood.

For a moment I stood there, unsure of what I was looking at. It looked like … treasure. A glittering horde of gold and bright jewels. Then I realised it wasn’t treasure. It was chocolate. The drawer was full to bursting with fun-size chocolate bars, shining in their foiled plastic wrapping. I reached out and brushed my hand through them. Some of the wrappers were empty.

Why did Daddy keep a drawer full of chocolate?

There were other little packets too, individual serves of salt and pepper, and moistened towelettes, all bearing the logos of fast food restaurants.

A realisation began to creep over me.

I slid the drawer closed, and tugged at the one beside it. Something clunked inside as the drawer slid open. A half-empty bottle of bourbon, rolling around and knocking against the sides of the drawer, and a battered paperback book.

With shaking hands, I reached in and picked up the book. It was Fox’s copy of
Les Miserables.
Why would Daddy have Fox’s book? I thumbed through the pages, and something fell out. I bent down and retrieved it. It was the photo of Fox and his mother.

There was no way Fox would have left it behind. No way. Even if he had left without saying goodbye. Even if he’d abandoned the Monkeys. Even if he was a traitor. He wouldn’t have left this. So why did Daddy have it now?

Because he didn’t leave
, said the voice in my head.

But Daddy said he left.

Daddy lied.

Daddy doesn’t lie.

He lied about food. He says he hasn’t eaten for thousands of years, but he eats chocolate and fast food.

But if Fox didn’t leave, where was he?

Dead
.
Fox is dead. Daddy killed him.

There were other things in the drawer too. A small plush giraffe. A credit card belonging to someone called Glen Ardeer. A wedding ring. A necklace with a jade pendant.

Who had these things belonged to? And where were those people now?

My phone was there too. I picked it up, surprised by how cold and heavy it felt. It called to me, promising answers to all my questions, and almost against my will my fingers groped for the power button.

But there was no response on the screen. The battery was dead, and I had no way to charge it. I put it back in the drawer and picked up the jade pendant.

A memory rose before me. Maggie in the van on the way to the Institute, showing me the secret pocket in her tunic. The flash of green and gold. It had been her grandmother’s, Maggie had said. The one thing she’d never part with. The one thing she wouldn’t give up for the Institute.

I turned the pendant over and saw it was engraved with Chinese characters and tiny letters. JIAO WEI QIN. Maggie’s real name.

I remembered Maggie’s unhinged expression as she brandished the knife at Daddy. He’d said that she’d decided to leave. But what if she hadn’t?

What if she was dead too?

My knees buckled beneath me and I gripped the corner of the desk. I’d gone looking for answers, but all I’d found were more questions.

I put everything back except for the photo of Fox and his mother, which I slipped into the waistband of my trousers. Then I pushed the drawer shut and slipped back out into the night. The cool air hit my face and I felt as if I was finally starting to see things clearly, after months of living in a fog.