Night Witches (4 page)

She’s right. When I do a quick inventory for aches and injuries, despite all I’ve been through I’m absolutely fine.

Zoya’s tone changes. ‘You shouldn’t’ve run off and left me like that.’

‘I was trying to—’

‘It’s OK. I know you were scared. We both were.’

‘That’s not why I—’

‘Oh, who cares now? You should message Aunty Aranoza to let her know you’re safe. Your papi told me to keep an eye on you, you know. It’s good we’re out of the forest, isn’t it? The medics are keen on feeding us up after the ordeal and the food’s not bad. Doesn’t Rodina look lovely from up here? The lights from the towns are pretty bright over there. They must be having some kind of evening festival.’

We’re on a gentle slope with West Rodina spreading out like a panoramic stream-screen image. I spot towns I only know as names from maps in school projects, but my eyes are sharper than Zoya’s. I can see these are not happy festival lights. In fact, the horizon is a blood-scarlet backdrop to a devastating view. There’s Hardhills, heart of the foodlands, lit by fierce fires; Blackmoss, home to half a dozen tractor factories, with no lights at all; Noonsun, the summer resort, no more than a pit in the ground. I’m so glad Sea-Ways is safe, away behind me to the east. Of course it is! Nothing could happen to
my
family and my house – right? My hands tremble as I reach to connect to Mama and Papi, only to get the same
please wait please wait please wait
message.

The sky crumples with the sound of distant explosions. This is what I’ve been afraid of ever since seeing Crux face to face.

‘It’s
war
,’ I whisper.

‘What is? Really? Aura’s not said so.’

I can see for myself without Aura’s information. It’s a real war in real places, not just on the stream-screens. For now it’s hundreds of klicks away. Nearer to us, towns like Sorrowdale and Rimm are blazing with normal lights. The Crux will never get this far. Aura won’t allow it.

Zoya’s forgotten the wider landscape. She’s noticed the Crux pilot.

‘Ugh! What’s
that
you’ve dragged out of the forest? Why’s he looking at you like that?’

As if he’s got something to say to me
 . . .

More explosions crackle faintly away west.

Zoya pulls on my arm. ‘Come on, let’s get inside where there’s more light. Night is coming.’

Steen sneers at her, like she’s cack on his boots. ‘Sooner than you think,’ he calls out. ‘And darker than you dare believe.’

‘
W
ake up, Pip,’ says Zoya. ‘This is Sea-Ways Station.’

‘I wasn’t sleeping.’

‘Me neither.’

Zoya’s been asleep and snoring. Me, I’ve been awake with my eyes closed the whole train journey, as if this will somehow make me invisible. Most of the other passengers are hunched over their keypads, flicking glances up from time to time but not daring to discuss whatever messages they’re getting.

A woman nearby starts to ask, ‘Has anyone heard from folk in Hardhills . . . ?’ but she’s quickly told to hush, so she sits and fidgets instead.

Our carriage is so packed that once it pulls into the city centre station we’re squeezed out of it like toothpaste from a tube. There seem to be more Scrutiners in position than usual.

‘What are you waiting for?’ Zoya asks as I shrink from the lights and noise. ‘Stick with me – the platform’s jammed. Aren’t you boiling with those gloves on? There’s heat machines everywhere. Hey – look at the big screen! That’s her! Marina Furey!’

We push through the press of people to get a better view of the roof-high screen in the station hall. News banners scroll down the sides of the main picture – industrial production targets fulfilled, a hundred jobs created at Glissom’s Gun Factory, three more criminals convicted of superstition . . . Nothing about traptions in the forest, or Air Cadet crashes. Who cares about that, when Marina Furey’s face is smiling down at us all?

She looks amazing, with hair all suntan brown, leaning against the fuselage of a People’s Number Forty-eight Fighter Jet. The HRN medal is the biggest and brightest of all in the row on her immaculate uniform – Hero of Rodina Nation, the highest award a person can win. I bet she could single-handedly wipe out the entire Crux Air Force, Steen Verdessica included.

As she looks out of the screen her eyes seem to rest on each and every one of us. First she talks about pride, hard work and loyalty. Everyone stops dead to listen. Then she drops the bomb.

‘It saddens me to say a threat has risen up against Rodina. Without warning, provocation, logic or reason, Crux forces have attacked innocent civilian towns along our western border. This despicable act of aggression has been met with a quick and crushing response by brave Rodinan soldiers.’

Over the rising waves of shock and outrage Furey reassures us all. ‘Victory will be certain and soon! If we stand together as a Nation we will defeat all our enemies. Together we are normal, innumerable, invincible! You are not one, but
One of Many
!’

‘
One of Many
!’ we chant in reply.

There are crowds but no chaos. Aura’s orders give pattern and purpose. We are just tiny dots in a massive city, full of life. Street lamps shine on sweaty workers just finishing afternoon factory shifts. Shop windows are all lit with adverts for new, exciting products designed by Rodina’s brilliant engineers. Screens update viewers on scientific advances occurring every day in the hub of laboratories at Corona City.
Progress and Pride
is streamed above the doors of all the city schools, now spilling out students at the end of the day’s lessons.

This is the real world, where trees don’t grow, no birds fly and there’s never more than one, normal path to follow.

Messages from school friends pour in and we drink them up –
you’re back, was flying good? did you see that stream with marina furey? can you believe crux would dare set foot on our land? you missed the test today, lucky you – aura says you were allowed an extra day’s training at the air cadet base . . . jealous!

This is when I first realise Aura can lie.

We plough through the crowds and follow braids of light that trace our route back home.

‘Want me to come up with you?’ Zoya asks when we reach People’s Number 2032 Housing Block – my front door. ‘I can check with Aura, hang on . . . oh, sorry, my father’s home early. Gotta go . . .’

She only lives a few blocks away, where the streets are wider and the buildings newer. Uncle Mentira is a chemical scientist so he can afford a bigger apartment with a view right out over the city centre to the industrial estates in the suburbs. As soon as we’ve said
goodbye-and-go-well
we wave. Zoya walks on a bit then messages.

you going to be all right?
she asks.

fine. you?

depends what’s for dinner i’m starving

it’s been strange

i know but everything’s normal now

The lift is still broken so I run up the ten flights of stairs to our floor, not even out of breath when I make it to the landing. Before I can key the code to our apartment, the door opposite cracks open. Pedla Rue is twisted round it, beckoning.

‘Tsst,
Rain
– over here!’

‘Hi, Pedla, how are you?’

‘Ssh! Listen – your mama isn’t home yet.’

‘I know, she messaged she’d be at Glissom’s till late. I can get my own food packets sorted, don’t worry.’

Pedla shakes her head. Her grey hair is so short and sparse I can see the blotchy skin of her scalp underneath. She’s always on at me to cut my hair. I’m glad I’ve got it stuffed under an Air Cadet cap right now so she can’t start on with the same complaint.

‘Watch yourself,’ she hisses. ‘Trouble’s coming . . .’

‘Aura says we’re not to panic about the Crux. They’re practically beaten already.’

‘Not them! There’s someone waiting for you. One of those
Eyes in the Dark
!’

A Scrutiner! My heart leaps. It jumps, it soars, it flies without wings!
I’ll find you
, Reef says, and here he is already! Quick quick quick, I must try and smarten up, if that’s at all possible in these lumpy blue overalls. I’m so excited I practically fall through the door. There he is.

It’s not Reef.

A stranger in a white uniform stands in our apartment. He’s a bone-thin older man with lightless eyes, nothing like Reef at all.

‘Rain Aranoza.’ Statement, not question.

I nod, shut the front door and lean against it. Why does it seem as though the room has shrunk? It’s suddenly so hot, so bright.

‘My name is Clint Roke,’ the Scrutiner says. ‘We’ll start with a normalcy test.’

‘I . . . I already messaged Aura about what happened.’

‘I know.’

Roke sets a keypad on the table and points to a chair. I sit. First he shines a light right into my eyes and I just have to hold still and let him do it. Then he takes a needle and signs for me to remove my gloves.

It’s not the needle that makes me yelp, it’s the vision that bludgeons my mind the moment Roke’s skin touches mine. I see him, absolutely
see
this Scrutiner, as a massive block of darkness slams down on him, breaking every piece of his skeleton except one of those tiny, delicate bones in his right eardrum. What’s
wrong
with me, imagining people’s deaths when our skins connect?

Roke’s eyes narrow.

‘Low p-pain threshold,’ I stutter, unable to stop the trembling.

He gives nothing away. Why would he? He’s a Scrutiner. He stores the bead of blood from my finger then shoots questions at me so quickly I barely have time to answer them all.

No
, I don’t remember why or when our plane crashed.
Yes
, there were abnormal life-forms in the Morass.
Yes
, I was under observation by a Scrutiner most of the time. (What has Reef reported about me?)

Am I, or have I ever been, a believer in god?
No
.

Do I own, or have I ever owned, any bells or bane-metal for protection against abnormal creatures?
Never
.

Did I interact with the Crux pilot?
Yes.

No need to mention I’m still plagued by after-images of Steen Verdessica’s face as I kill him. I wonder where Steen is and what they’re doing to him. Whatever it is, I hope it hurts, especially if he fights back, which he’s bound to do, he’s so arrogant and defiant.

Finally the Scrutiner makes a steeple of his fingers, like the bell tower of an Old Nation god-house. He simply observes me. I notice that, for all his smart uniform, the skin round his nails is ragged and scabbed. He’s an anxious man. What does a Scrutiner have to be worried about?

Without another word he stands, packs away his equipment and turns to leave. I remember how, as children, me and Zoya always said Scrutiners had eyes in the back of their heads.

He’s gone. I’m left shaking and scared. I turn the lights down – they’re too bright – peel off my Slick-streaked overalls, stuff them down the recycling chute and do a quick message check. There’s a
hello pip good to be back hurrah for hot water and proper lights
from Zoya. Nothing about undergoing Scrutiny.

Now here’s Mama back from work, squashing me in a hug, but that’s OK because I’ve got sleeves pulled low over my hands and a high-neck top on.

‘Horrible about the Crux attack, isn’t it? What an outrage! No warning and no provocation! I’m so glad you’re all right,’ she says. ‘You
are
all right, aren’t you? You look all right.’ All my life she’s been peering at me like this.

Here’s Papi too, escaping the clutches of Pedla Rue.

‘That woman! They should take her to the border to
talk
the Crux to death. Rain! Glad you’re safe and sound.’ He stares at me anxiously. ‘At least we won’t be hearing any more about flying lessons, will we? Yes, Aura’s updated me all about your failure to impress the instructors at Air Cadets, even after an extra day’s tuition . . . Rain! Don’t connect when I’m talking to you!’

‘Sorry . . .’ I put my keypad away. I hadn’t even realised I was still wondering if Reef would be in touch.

‘Why’ve you meddled with the light settings? It’s dim in here.’ Papi tells the lights to brighten.

‘Sorry, I thought you’d put them up or something, they were really strong when I got home.’

He frowns. I frown too, but only on the inside.

‘Well,’ says Mama. ‘Here we all are again, nice and normal.’

The invasion isn’t crushed overnight.

The Crux are defeated, we all know that, it’s just that they don’t seem to realise it. Purely as a precaution, afternoon school classes are cut so students can do war work around the city. Me and Zoya get put on shifts at Glissom’s. Every day Aura predicts imminent final Victory. A month after the crash in the Morass I’m nesting assault rifles in boxes to be transported to the borders when Zoya comes pushing through all the conveyors and cases. She could’ve talked her uncle into getting a nicer job at his lab, but she said she wanted to get stuck in with everyone else.

‘I’ve been messaging you!’ she shouts over the noise on the factory floor. ‘Aren’t you even checking?’

Not so much. I dread connecting these days in case there’s news about the blood sample Roke the Scrutiner took, though there can’t really be anything wrong with it, can there, or I’d’ve known by now? I haven’t heard from Reef either. I got my nerve up to try messaging him once. No connection. Is he blocking me, or is he deep in forest snows again?

I step away from the packing line and try my keypad.

‘Well?’ asks Zoya. ‘Are you getting the same alert as me?’

I blink. ‘I’ve got to report to People’s Number One Airbase at Loren in three days’ time.’

‘Me too! Everybody will die of envy when they hear! Loren’s
the
main Air Force base, Pip. The centre of the flying world! The absolute home of Rodina’s best fighters and bombers.’ She stops dead. ‘Wonder what they want
us
to do?’