Juno of Taris (18 page)

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Authors: Fleur Beale

BOOK: Juno of Taris
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She shrugged my arm off. ‘I don’t think you should do it.’ She heard my gasp and glared at me. ‘I didn’t know how ghastly it’d be. All day – I had to keep pinching myself to see if I still existed. Tell the others. It’s not worth it.’

I jumped up and rushed into the water, showering her – and Hera – with drips. Hera yelled, but for once we left her to cry. Vima snarled at me, ‘I’m not giving up. I’m just telling you. Don’t do it. It’s too hard.’

I splashed my way back and stood in front of her, the wet hem of my tunic dripping onto her legs. ‘You think it’s all right for you to do it, but not for us? Is that right? You think we can’t handle it? And just who are you to tell us what we can or can’t handle?’

She batted at me. ‘Oh, go away! You don’t understand. It’s beyond awful.’

Hera sobbed harder. I picked her up and rocked her. ‘Hush, Hera, hush. It’s all right. Vima just wants to be a martyr. All by herself. You’ll learn about those. When you’re bigger. A martyr likes it when people are mean to them …’

Vima laughed and spread out her arms. ‘Oh, shut up! You’re right. I’m getting my nightie in a knot.’ She stroked Hera’s face. ‘You tell your bossy big sister that I’ll be glad of the company.’ She dropped her voice. ‘But it’s going to change things if you all do it. Me, they can ignore. But not me and a whole stratum. Actually I’m scared …’

‘I think we’re right to be scared. I think it’s Hilto. I think he’s the one to be scared of.’

She stood up and shucked off her tunic. ‘He’s the obvious one.’ She waded out and when she was waist deep she turned around. ‘But if it was just him, then people like your grandparents would know who to fight against. There have to be more. People that none of us would ever suspect.’ With that cheerful thought, she dived under the water and swam away from us.

I took Hera for a swim and then let her play in the shallows until Vima came back. She rubbed the water from her body and asked, ‘How would you spell Nixie?’

‘I think N-I-X-Y. But I don’t know.’ I stared at her. ‘Vima – you’re not trying to do a search on the Governance computers, are you?’

Her shark-grin flashed. ‘All I’ll tell you, young Juno, is that N-I-K-S-Y doesn’t bring anything up.’

‘You’re mad.’ I snatched Hera up out of the sea and started walking home. ‘D’you want to get yourself killed? Do you?’

She didn’t answer me and we didn’t speak all the way home.

 

There was a different feeling to the meeting that night – a sort of humming undertone.

‘Look!’ Brex whispered. ‘Oban is sitting with Vima. He hasn’t withdrawn.’

‘But Creen has,’ Pel said, ‘and she’s crying.’

There was a peculiar edge to the singing of the
Song of Taris
. Some sang loudly, even fervently. But among many of the younger people the sound was fainter. It was the same with the pledge.

Then Fisa walked forward. Expectation kept us silent. ‘My people. I will not waste your time by discussing Vima’s hair. She has made her choice, but we don’t have to condone it. We’ll not give it power by discussing it. I suggest that none of you do either.’

‘Very smart move,’ Marba whispered.

‘It’s not going to work,’ Paz muttered.

On the way home, my parents chatted and laughed. ‘It’s hard on Vima,’ Mother said. ‘But Fisa is right. She has to learn.’

I felt so far away from them. I didn’t bother answering.

I sent Vima a text:
we more determined than ever.

I slept with images of bald heads marching through my dreams.

 

Thursday came. Justa kept up the babble about living for the greater good of the community. ‘The whole is greater than the sum of its parts,’ she kept repeating.

At break, Dreeda said, ‘You know, I’m nervous, but I’m kind of looking forward to tomorrow.’ Which pretty much summed up how we all felt. Maybe change was in the air. Maybe this was what my grandparents had spoken of. But I didn’t feel particularly brave. Vima was the brave one. She had started things and all we had to do was follow.

Again, my parents didn’t stop me going to the bay with her. Maybe because Hera was fussing and unsettled.

Vima put her into the backpack and then stomped her way to the bay. Two people smiled at us, and five withdrew.

‘I’m glad I’ve done it,’ Vima raged when we got there. ‘They think they’ve won. Just ignore me and the problem will vanish.’ She gave me a sudden, searching look. ‘Are you still going to do it? All of you?’

‘Yep,’ I said. ‘We are indeed.’

I took Hera in for a swim but it was some time before the water worked its magic on her. ‘You don’t like people being upset, do you poppet?’

She whacked her arms flat into the water and shouted with glee.

Vima dived in and swam out to the walls of the island. When she came back, she said, ‘They spell it N-I-X-I-E.’

I didn’t want to believe what she must have done. I almost dropped Hera. ‘Vima! He’ll catch you. What are you doing?’

She flopped down on the sand. ‘You want to know what I found?’

I felt pale and faint and about two years old. ‘Yes. I do. If you’re killed I want to know why.’

‘Thanks very much,’ she said wryly.

‘So tell me!’ My chest and throat ached. Emotions could hurt.

‘I keyed in NIX and it brought up Nixie’s file. I just had time to read a bit of it. “Nixie is a good choice. His humour will help people get used to the shaving. His skills are general enough that he can be replaced at the pharmacy”.’

‘That’s all?’ I asked.

‘It’s enough, don’t you think?’ Her eyes drilled into me.

What was I missing? I turned away and thought about her words. ‘It sounds as though people didn’t have their heads shaved until Nixie did it,’ I said at last. I swung round to stare at her. ‘But that’s dumb! I mean, we don’t repeat names so it has to be our Nixie.’ My voice trailed off. ‘He can’t be two hundred years old, can he?’

Vima shrieked with laughter, and Hera copied her. ‘Bless you, kid! I hadn’t thought of that.’ She watched me – I felt like a mouse under the gaze of an eagle.

‘If he’s not two hundred years old,’ I said, voicing the unthinkable, ‘then they’ve lied to us. People had hair when Nixie was younger.’

‘Clever girl,’ Vima said, in exactly the same tone she used for Hera.

I put my hands flat on the ground but it wasn’t moving. It was only in my bald head that the world was crashing and burning around me. Things I’d known forever as solid and real were shaking and cracking. I ran a hand over my head. Forever. We’d shaved our heads forever. It was a truth burnt into our souls.

But never proven.

It was time to go home. ‘You okay?’ Vima asked.

‘Yeah. Absolutely fantastic.’ Sick, scared, astounded but more than anything, I was angry. I kicked the sand. ‘I’m angry. I’m ragingly, screamingly angry.’

‘Me too,’ said Vima. ‘It’s good. I like it.’

We walked home with Hera chattering away in the backpack. This time, we both held our heads high.

Have you heard? The new batch of linen is ready.
We can collect it next week.

 

Have you heard? Fisa wanted to have somebody else
work on the Governance computers, but Hilto told
her it was best to have Vima where they could watch
her.

 

Have you heard? There’s to be a duathlon in four
weeks.

OUR HAIR

F
riday arrived. At breakfast, my parents let me eat before they started on the lecture.

I put both hands in my lap and squeezed them tight. ‘Don’t say anything. I know what you think. You know what I think. Stalemate.’ I got up and left.

Hera and I ran to school, away from their worry and fussing.

The schoolroom was no calmer than our kitchen had been. Justa prowled, she repeated the same old arguments over and over. We kept our eyes on our screens and tried to work.

Hera wriggled her way across the floor.

Finally, Nixie arrived, but he was not alone; with him came Majool and Hilto.

Nixie ignored them and went right on with his normal routine. ‘Right now. Line up, ladies and gentlemen. Keep your hair on! Who’s first?’

Justa grabbed a chair and shoved it into the middle, right beside Hera. ‘Silvern. Come and sit down.’

My mind shrieked and skittered.
What should we
do? They’d beaten us. We hadn’t imagined that they
would do this.

But I hadn’t reckoned on Silvern. And Paz. They stood, but didn’t walk to the chair. I took a deep breath and got to my feet as well. I saw that Marba, too, was standing, his face was calm and his eyes beamed bright. One by one, we all stood. We stepped forward in front of our chairs. We hadn’t planned to do this; it was something instinctive about safety in numbers.

Majool thumped his stick on the floor. ‘Hurry up. We haven’t got all day.’

I kept my eyes on Hera. She’d nearly made it across the room towards us.

Silvern cleared her throat, sent a glance along the line of us and nodded. We drew in a collective breath and spoke the words we’d worked out: ‘Nixie, we are going to grow our hair. We thank you for your past services.’

We didn’t sound too bad, given the circumstances. Our voices were clear, polite – and final.

Justa moaned and collapsed onto her chair.

Hilto bellowed, followed immediately by Hera. He stalked over to us, headed straight for me and grabbed my shoulders, tugging me towards the chair. ‘Troublemaker! This is all your doing! Comply, for once in your damned life.’

Marba and Paz, the two strongest boys, rushed forward and wrapped their arms around my waist. Brex snatched Hera up from the floor and dumped her in Justa’s arms. All the others jostled Hilto, putting themselves between him and Majool and forming a barrier around Hilto and me so that he couldn’t push me further. ‘It’s all of us,’ Silvern shouted. ‘All of us. It’s something we all want. We decided it. Together.’

‘Together!’ Fortun shouted. ‘All of us.’

The rest of them took up the chant. I found my voice and shrieked into the middle of the chaos, ‘Let me go! You’re hurting me.’ And terrifying me. It was hard to breathe, hard to stay strong against the torrent of hate pouring from Hilto. His hands gouged into my shoulders. His spittle spattered my face.

Hera wailed a high-pitched scream.

‘Let her go! Let her go! It’s all of us. Together!’ the others bellowed.

Hilto struggled to drag me with him. Paz and Marba held me secure. They pushed at him with their free hands. Hilto’s face, red and swollen with fury, was a handspan from mine. The heat of his hate seared me.

A new voice rang above the chaos. ‘Let my daughter go.’

And there was my mother. She marched up to Hilto. ‘Let my daughter go.’ Her voice was low and clear. Valiant. That’s what she was. Valiant and fearless.

She seemed to bring Hilto some way back to his senses. But even so, he gave a snarl and dug in his fingers as though to reach through my skin and gouge out my heart. Mother stepped closer. ‘Hilto!’

He dropped his hands and stepped back but his face was contorted and vicious. He growled out one, ugly sentence at her. ‘We should never have let you breed.’

Mother just said, ‘Do not come near my daughters. Ever again. Either of them.’ She turned her back on him, tottered to where Justa held my sobbing sister, took Hera from her then collapsed on the chair Rynd shoved under her just in time.

Hilto and Majool thumped their way out of the room.

We had forgotten Nixie until we heard him sigh. ‘So. It has come. The end of the golden age.’ Then he added, as if to himself, ‘Perhaps it is time. Perhaps it is as well.’ He collected his gear and walked out.

I fell to my knees beside my mother, my arms around her waist. ‘Mother …’ I lay my head on her lap.

She stroked my head.

I was aware of the others sinking onto their chairs, winded by what had just happened. We were silent, listening to Hera. Her sobs diminishing the further Hilto went from us.

I don’t know how long we sat without speaking, but it was Justa who broke the silence. ‘Are you all right, Sheen?’

Mother nodded. ‘As all right as you can be when you see somebody trying to murder your child.’

That put the steel back into Justa. She stood up. ‘That’s a wicked thing to say, Sheen. Hilto is a Governance Companion. He has our best interests at heart.’ She looked at each of us, one at a time, then she said, ‘I shall not withdraw from you. But know that in my heart, I have. You are my learning stratum and it’s my duty to teach you. That is the only reason I still speak to you. It is my duty.’

Mother got to her feet as well. ‘Come, Juno. We’re going home. All three of us.’ She looked at the others. ‘Thank you for saving my daughter.’

 

The news of our rebellion sped around the island. Dad came home early from the gardens, running with long strides. ‘What’s happened?’ he demanded, the words bursting from him even as he raced through the door. ‘Is it true, Juno? That you’ve shamed us?’

I winced away from his anger.

Mother said, ‘Sit down, Zanin, and listen.’

He stared at her, and so did I, for I’d never heard her use such a tone before. She smiled briefly, as if she only had energy for one small smile. She told him what had happened at school. She told it all, the whole, true story with all the details. She finished by saying, ‘I don’t understand it. Any of it. But he frightened me, Zanin – he wasn’t sane. I don’t trust him. Not any longer.’

Dad stared at her, then at me. He shook his head. ‘That can’t be right, Sheen. And Majool was with him. They’re our leaders. If we can’t trust them, then we’re doomed.’ He gave me a very cool look. ‘This was not well done of you, Juno.’

Mother lifted her head at that. ‘No. It was not. But Zanin, I think Juno might be right. To some extent anyway. What I saw today makes me believe there’s more to shaving our heads than we’ve been told.’

For some odd reason, that made me cry. Dad ignored me. He sat beside Mother on the sofa and took her hand. ‘Sheen – this is madness! It’s crazy!’ He launched into the same old arguments, but Mother hushed him.

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