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Authors: Fleur Beale

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BOOK: Juno of Taris
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Vima shrugged her shoulders. ‘I think that’s called having delusions of grandeur.’

She could mock all she liked, but I knew the truth. ‘I’m afraid for you,’ I whispered. I told her about Hilto’s toxic words and about the sabotaged ladder. ‘It’s dangerous, Vima. Please – don’t do it.’

‘I’m telling them tomorrow night.’ At the Wednesday meeting.

‘Don’t. Please don’t.’

She gave me her cruising shark grin and wouldn’t discuss it. We walked home. ‘Think about something else. Like who taught your grandmother to read. And don’t forget you’ve got a phone in your pocket.’

She didn’t come in, just gave Hera a kiss and waved as she ran off. I was left with a fine mix of emotions. What were you meant to do when fury, gratitude and fear knocked against the walls of your heart?

My grandparents had arrived for the afternoon’s work while I was at the bay. Leebar took Hera. ‘She’s growing so fast – and she’s still so noisy, except when she’s asleep. Aren’t you, my lamb?’

Our work that week was to weave cloth for the community’s tunics. It was one of my favourite duties; the grandparents all came to our house and we worked the big loom together, except for Grif who spun the yarn.

We talked of the news of the day. Justa’s husband, Loval, had given her a new bead for the necklace he’d made her for his wedding gift: this one was to mark their fifth wedding anniversary. ‘He carved a hibiscus on it,’ said Bazin. ‘A lovely piece of work.’

Dad touched Mother’s hand. ‘A good marriage is a precious thing.’

I couldn’t imagine anyone ever smiling at me like that. I didn’t
want
anyone smiling at me like that, thanks very much.

Grif saw my expression and her eyes twinkled.

‘Nothing really interesting ever happens on Taris,’ I grumbled.

‘What do you want, child?’ Danyat asked in his deep voice. ‘Jealousy? Treachery? Battles? Hatred?’

His words disturbed me. Under them lay the darker truth he wouldn’t speak of – not to me; not yet.

Mother said, ‘There’s plenty to interest us.’ I said nothing while she began to recite all the news of the past week.

I leaned forward, cutting her words off with a gesture. ‘Yes! But it’s not exciting. It’s boring. It’s …’ I stopped. If Vima carried out her threat to grow her hair, life would become all too interesting. The phone weighed heavily in my pocket.

The grandparents looked at me, but not one of them said anything. Instead, Leebar said, ‘Let’s sing as we work.’ 

Have you heard? Oban has been able to swim down
to the deepest generator. He says it’s in need of
maintenance.

 

Have you heard? Trebe is wondering if some of
Hera’s characteristics are incompatible. She says
maybe that’s why she cries so much.

 

Have you heard? Sina says she’s glad now they’ve
had to wait to have a baby. Lerick and Mersat are
worried that the traits they chose for their son might
be incompatible too.

PUSHING BOUNDARIES

T
he next morning who should be waiting for me on the path but Silvern. She greeted Mother. ‘Good morning, Sheen. Let me take the noisy one for you.’

I was suspicious. What did she want? Mother smiled and handed Hera over. I expected her to yell, but she didn’t. When we stopped to pass on news, Silvern nudged me and tipped her head in the direction of the school. ‘See you at school, Mother,’ I said. Why this sudden desire of Silvern’s for the pleasure of my company?

‘I suppose you know everything about the Governance computers?’ she asked, jiggling Hera to keep her quiet.

I shook my head. ‘Why would I? Vima works at the Techno Centre, not the Governance Centre.’

Silvern practically spat at me. ‘Stop pretending. Hilto’s got her working at the Governance Office as of last night. She must’ve told you he wanted her to.’

‘Nope. Didn’t mention it,’ I said, although I wondered why she hadn’t.

Silvern scoffed. ‘Come off it! What else would you talk about?’

I glanced at her. Did she too get bored by all the sameness? ‘Hair,’ I said.

She kicked at my leg. ‘What’s to say about hair? We’re not allowed it. End of discussion.’

I hopped out of her range. ‘But why aren’t we allowed it? That’s worth talking about, don’t you think?’

Silvern sniffed. ‘You’re so young. You’ve got the chance to find out all sorts of things from Vima, and what do you talk about? The same old stuff we’ve talked about forever.’

I laughed. She didn’t know the half of it, although she might find out tonight. It was strange though, that Vima hadn’t said anything to me.

 

She did that afternoon.

‘Don’t ask,’ she muttered as soon as we left the house. ‘I’ll tell you later.’

On the way, six different people stopped to ask for news. Vima smiled at each of them and gave the same story. ‘Irian invented some most ingenious repairs for the Governance computers. It’s taking me a while to understand what he did, but I’m sure they can be fixed.’

It took twice as long as usual to get to the bay.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ I demanded. ‘Everyone thinks I know something and I don’t. I know less than they do.’

She just laughed. ‘Take Hera for a swim before she ties herself in knots. I’ll send you a text.’

I grabbed Hera and towed her out, turning to watch Vima keying in my message. She put the phone back in her pocket, took off her tunic and joined us in the water. ‘I’ll take her. You get your text.’

I dried off my hands before I fished in my pocket and read the text:
I tel u the tru things.

I grinned, forgiving her. I returned my phone to its hiding place and went back into the sea. ‘What’s it like, working in the Governance Office?’

She pulled a face. ‘It’s the pits. If it isn’t toxic old Hilto prowling around looking over my shoulder, it’s grisly old Majool, stomping around with his bung knee and pretending he needs to lean on my chair for support. And as if that’s not enough, Lenna comes in and fusses over Hilto.’

‘Take the computers to the Techno Centre,’ I said. It was the obvious place to work on them in any case.

‘They won’t let me. I asked. There’s something they’re worried about.’ She floated Hera towards me. ‘A good time to push boundaries, I’m thinking.’ With that, she powered off into the distance, swimming strongly and leaving me and Hera in the shallows.

I wasn’t ready for her to make her hair announcement. ‘Does it have to be tonight?’ I asked when she came back.

‘Yes.’ She was nervous, but determined as well. The nervousness was contagious. We walked back from the bay early. Hera howled all the way.

Everybody else looked exactly the same as they always did as we made our way to the meeting arena. There was the usual laughter and joking. I felt alone – separate and worried.

I joined my learning stratum and left Mother and Dad holding a wriggling Hera. Erse and Roop sat next to my family, with Merith quietly sitting on Roop’s knee. I glanced up at Vima, on the top tier with the rest of her stratum. She was laughing with Creen and Prin and didn’t notice me. The phone thumped against my thigh as I sat down beside Dreeda.

Vima was the first to give her report. Would she make the hair announcement at the same time? I watched her intently as she ran up the steps and crossed the stage. But her report was little more than the news she’d been giving everyone all week. ‘Irian was brilliant,’ she finished. ‘I want to fully understand what he did before I change anything.’

Kalta’s mother, Rofan, stood up. ‘With respect, Governance Companions, I have a question.’

Fisa gestured, giving her permission to speak.

‘Why was this important task given to an apprentice? Is it fair to burden Vima with such responsibility?’ Rofan sat down. Short, concise and to the point, as all her observations were.

Fisa stepped aside to allow Majool to answer. ‘A fair question,’ he said, doing a pretty good impression of being fair, just and impartial, ‘and one we considered well. We were at fault in that we left everything to Irian. We didn’t seek to understand the way he worked, the modifications he made. We decided the best person to continue his work would be someone who came fresh to the problems.’ He tried a smile, but his face wasn’t used to using the smile muscles and it came out twisted. ‘Vima has an excellent brain.’

After the final report, Fisa asked as usual, ‘Is there anything else, my people?’

No
, I begged.
Don’t do it, Vima. Stay quiet. Keep
your bald head.
My stomach tightened and I felt sick.

Fisa didn’t expect anything else to be raised. She’d drawn breath to bid us a good night, when Vima spoke. ‘I have some business.’

A pause, then Fisa said, ‘Speak.’

Vima waited for a moment, and I thought she wouldn’t do it, but then she began speaking. ‘My people, I wish to inform you that I am going to grow my hair.’

Nobody said a word, but gasps shrieked into the silence. Creen turned away, withdrawing, as did many others. Oban, on Vima’s other side, stared at her, his face intent.

My eyes flew to Jov. He had turned his head away. He had to, I guessed, if he didn’t want to betray their secret.

I found myself on my feet. ‘Me too! I’ve always wanted hair.’

A few people smiled at that. My tears and tantrums had not been forgotten. Then I nearly collapsed from shock – Silvern stood up. ‘I want hair too.’

Then it was Paz. ‘I want dreads, like the man.’ We laughed. We knew the documentary he referred to.

Fisa clapped her hands. ‘A good joke. Thank you for making us laugh, Vima. But our hair is non-negotiable. The subject is closed.’

Vima’s voice cut through the murmurs. ‘One moment, Fisa. I want it noted that I am growing my hair.’

The atmosphere was strange. People were horrified – some of them deeply upset – but under it all, excitement ran. This was different. Nothing like this had ever happened before. This would be something to talk about for days and days.

Fisa raised both hands, cutting the muttering dead. She looked up to Vima, speaking directly to her. ‘It’s part of who we are, Vima. Our shaven heads. You know that.’ She looked troubled rather than angry. I was surprised.

Vima leaned forward. The light shone on her bald head. ‘But does it need to be part of who we can be? I think it’s time for change. We can always get the shears out again if it doesn’t work.’

Silence settled over us, like a blanket gently falling. Never, in my memory anyway, had Fisa been openly challenged. She glanced at the other Governance Companions. ‘It’s a serious matter to change something as fundamental as our appearance. At present, we’ll keep to the accepted ways. I’m sorry, Vima – Juno, Silvern, Paz – but we don’t give you permission to grow your hair.’

A murmur swept through us.

Fisa clapped her hands for silence. ‘We are not going to change a tradition that has served us well for so long. There is no discussion. That is all.’ She swept her gaze around the arena. We felt her power, her authority. ‘I wish you all a good night.’

We stirred, preparing to go. Was I glad it had ended like this? I decided I was both glad and sorry, then Vima’s voice rang out again. ‘One moment, my people.’ She waited while voices rose, then died again. ‘I’m not asking for permission. I’m telling you. I’m going to grow my hair.’

A voice behind me sighed. ‘So. It has come. The end of the golden age on Taris.’

I turned round. It was Nixie. He smiled at me. ‘Aye, Juno, change is in the air. I’ll soon be out of a job. My time has almost gone.’

Fisa shouted into the microphone. ‘Silence!’ The colour rose in her face and stained her head right to the top of her skull. People moved uneasily in their seats. ‘Vima has chosen to break a convention that has helped keep our society stable and harmonious for decades.’ Her voice bounced shrilly in our eardrums. Hera wailed, distressed.

Fisa paused. The cries had rattled her. She turned her back and wrapped her arms round her body. She stayed like that for long seconds before she faced us again. Spots of colour still burned on her cheekbones, but she had her voice back under control. ‘We, your Governance Companions, remind you that harmony is essential for our survival.’ Her eyes burnt me, moved on to Silvern and finished up scorching Paz. ‘Juno, Silvern, Paz: think hard before you blindly follow Vima’s lead. Hair doesn’t seem important – but change that and other things will follow. Ripples spread out. They can become waves that swamp us all.’

Hilto shouted from his seat. ‘This is already causing dissension. I recommend, Vima, that you think of the greater good of your people. Use your energy to deal with the computer problems. If you don’t, the whole of Taris could fail.’ His voice was heavy with threat. We cowered away from it, stunned. He glared in Hera’s direction – she was bellowing with the full strength of her lungs. ‘Parents, remind your children of the laws that have served us so well. Make them understand why conformity and compliance are essential to our survival. That is all. Good night and go well.’

A murmur whispered across us as parents began the task of weaving compliance back into the torn fabric of our community. We stood as the Governance Companions walked from the stage. I wanted to talk to Vima, but she slipped away.

We walked home. Dad carried Hera, sleeping now. I wanted to be five months old again and sleep through the lecture I knew was coming.

They gave me a hot drink, and the same arguments they’d used every shaving day until I’d stopped making a fuss.

We need to be the same.

It stops competition and therefore division.

It encourages cooperation.

We don’t have time or energy to waste on personal
adornment.

I stood up. ‘I’m going to bed.’

Once in my room, I sent Vima a text:
love you.
sleep well.

I thought she wouldn’t reply, but she did:
you
and nobody else. thanks.
 

BOOK: Juno of Taris
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