Divergence

“I wonder what she will do for herself.”

“What do you mean?”

I don’t know, thought Maurice. Was that ethical? Tricking us into bed together? Are Social Care allowed to do that? I never thought of that before. What else has she done while she’s been playing with our emotions?

“She has dreams, you know,” murmured Saskia. “Haven’t you seen her in the mornings? How pale she looks?”

That time in the hold, when I played my clarinet.

“She always looks pale, of course,” Saskia continued, and for no real reason she started to laugh.

When she was asleep, Saskia looked like a little girl. She was smiling, one hand tucked beneath her head, her knees tucked up almost to her chest. Maurice got out of bed before shaking her gently awake. She opened her eyes and smiled, and then remembered where she was. A shutter seemed to come down inside her head and she sat up suddenly, wrapping the thin white sheet around herself.

“Good morning.” Maurice handed her his thick white robe. “I’m going to take a shower.”

Saskia let her hair drop over her eyes.

“Good morning,” she said. “I think I’ll do the same back in my room. I’ll see you at breakfast?”

“Okay.”

Maurice went into his bathroom and stepped behind the smoked-glass screen of the shower cubicle. Mist rose and was sucked up by the extractor above. As he rubbed himself down with grapefruit cleansing gel, he felt his body tingling to life. Stepping from the shower into the clean black-and-white tiled room beyond, he felt fresh and rested. He dried himself with a thick white towel, a scribble of black decorating the border, and then shaved, feeling alive and ready for anything. This was what Social Care was good at, he reflected. Manipulating people to do what was right for them. That’s what the Watcher was supposed to do; that’s what it had set out to do, anyway.

Then he recalled his thoughts on falling asleep last night. What else was Social Care good at? What was Judy playing at?

He was just wondering about this when the message sounded from his console. Eva Rye, this is a warning. You are approaching a quarantined zone. Please alter your course at your earliest convenience. Do not approach Earth.

Judy was waiting for them all in the conference room, her arms folded. Saskia followed Maurice into the room. Her business suit was gone; in its place she wore a white blouse and a pair of blue jeans that hung loosely from her narrow hips. Little teardrops of silver hung from her ears. She smiled politely at Maurice and sat down at the thick glass table in the seat opposite to him, next to Miss Rose. The old woman sat up stiffly, her skin still bearing the slightly fluorescent bloom of the autodoc. She looked healthy, but her eyes held a slightly glazed look, the effect of the memory-repressing drugs she was being fed. Maurice looked away from her. The drugs were the only thing between her and the horrific memory of those creatures forcing their way into her body and plumbing themselves directly into her nervous system. Maurice felt nauseated at very thought.

Edward sat next to Judy, staring up at her. He could see it, too, Maurice realized; he felt Judy’s fatigue. Not physical, but mental fatigue at holding a mind twisted into one shape for so long. She was ready to snap. Nonetheless, when she spoke, her voice was as calm as ever.

“We’re approaching Earth,” she said. “You probably heard the message.”

“Who was that speaking?” asked Saskia. Maurice was surprised to note that she was holding Miss Rose’s hand.

“The Watcher,” said Judy. “Or one of his mouthpieces. It’s not safe to go to Earth. The Dark Plants are all through the system. The Watcher doesn’t like anyone going in or coming out.

“But we’re going in?” said Edward.

“Only if you decide it, Edward,” said Judy. “You’re in charge now.”

Edward turned to Saskia, his face twisted with worry.

“Judy is correct,” said Saskia. “You’re in charge now. You must do whatever you think is right, Edward.”

Edward frowned. What was he thinking about right now? How does his mind work, and why is it so much slower than mine?

“We made a deal,” Edward said eventually. “We have to take Judy to Earth.”