The Prophecy Chapter 3

 

Chapter 3

This just did not happen. Not in the thirty-fifth century. There was no need for it. It was barbaric.

No matter how she tugged, the tunic would not close at the back.  Her breasts were sore. She couldn’t bear anything or anybody touching them. Not even herself. And this horrid feeling every morning, and sometimes at other times of the day. This feeling of fullness, of something wanting to get out, then her throat filling with this foul-tasting liquid, which forced itself out of her mouth.

Gross! She thought as she looked at the contents of the lavatory pan.

That wasn't supposed to happen any more, either. It had been done away with. The diastic monitor picked up any illness brewing - if any did appear and they didn't very often at all - before it took hold, and administered a treatment or antidote in the unit's drinking water. But it hadn't worked this time and the alarm bell had rung.

No alarm bell had sounded on Terrestra's diastic monitors for over two hundred years. They had it all under control. As no one ever came to Terrestra, no new diseases were ever brought to the planet. They knew how to deal with the old ones.

Marijam shuddered as she remembered the fear she had felt as the alarm sounded on her monitor. Fortunately she was alone at the time in the apartment and had managed to disconnect the machine before it had relayed its information to central control. She knew she shouldn't have done that. But it was pure panic. She hadn't known what was wrong just then, but she had known somehow that it was something to worry about - and that it would be best to do that worrying on her own. And she started to do her own research.

She had found out that this horrid forcing of liquid out of the stomach over which she had no control  was called vomiting. It used to happen when there was something wrong with the digestive system.  Nobody had things wrong with their digestive systems any more. She had not known why this was happening to her.

She'd found another answer just yesterday. The answer had terrified and puzzled her. Vomiting also used to happen often in the first stages of pregnancy in the old days when babies were gestated in a human womb, not in artificial incubators as they were now.

Surely she had received the Stopes treatment as a child? She rechecked her medical record. Certainly, it was there. And surely Gabrizan had done the same?

 So how had this happened? She must talk to him. And last night had been the one evening she hadn't seen him since that first time at the Waterfall when he had kissed the back of her neck, sending ripples of excitement through her …

Gabrizan had had his interview yesterday for the Northern Lights Project. He had had to stay overnight at the Nuffield Centre.

Would she hear something soon?

On cue, the dataserve kicked in. There was an important message for her. She held her breath.

Her father's picture came on to the screen. He had his official face on. It was probably a recording then, and not a live message.

Marijam smiled to herself. She didn't know whether she liked him most when he was just being Dad or when he sat there as now, looking wise and dignified and seeming a whole ten centimetres taller.

"Well Miss Kennedy," her father's official voice spoke. "Good news. You are invited for interview to join the Northern Lights Project as a research student. On successful completion of your Part 1, you would be able to proceed to becoming a full research fellow." Frazier Kennedy then grinned at his daughter. "Well done, sweetie," he beamed.

He really looked happy for her. For a few seconds Marijam felt pleased as well. Then it happened again. That uncontrollable wave of nausea. She ran towards the bathroom.

Just in time, she managed to bend her head over the toilet. The vile orange fluid came up again.

This is really gross. But really, thought Marijam. This can't be happening. It just isn't done this way any more. Why hasn't the Stopes programme worked? 

What was she going to do? She must find Gabrizan. Perhaps he would know how this had happened. Was it something to do with him? After all, just how much did she know about him. That he was kind, and confident, and he seemed to know the answer to everything, and that he was extremely good-looking. But he never gave much away about himself. 

Pull yourself together, gal, she said to herself as she made her way back to her room. You've got some important business to sort out here.

The dataserve was whirring away.

"Downloading joining instructions for the Northern Lights Project interview," said the tinny metallic voice.

"Relate," said Marijam. She really could not resist finding out what the message said.

"Your interview will take place on level 6, lab 10 at the Nuffield Centre," she read. "Please report 15.30,  Day 79, 3500. A transporter pod will be sent to collect you  at 14.00. Please bring overnight bag. Interview procedures take 24 hours."

Lab 10! That was where Gabrizan had had to go yesterday. Perhaps he would be going back there? Perhaps they would be able to work together. If she was allowed to work at all, of course, now.

What was she going to do? Was it her fault? She had really trusted the Stopes programme. And assumed Gabrizan had too. Was she some sort of freak that it wouldn't work on? Should she tell her parents?

She couldn't bring herself to do that. How could she let them know that their daughter was a misfit, a quirk of nature?

At least Gabrizan was due back this evening. How she was going to tell him she couldn't begin to think. But it would be good to see him.

She didn't look too bad in the blue velvet tunic. It was the best colour for the moment. The only one that didn't make her look even greener. But it still wasn't a pretty sight that greeted her in the mirror. Her hair seemed to have lost most of its shine. There were dark circles around her eyes. She had not been able to sleep well for the last two nights. Her face was white.

What will he think? she asked herself.

He had said he would meet her at the Waterfall. Marijam felt dizzy as she made her way up the rungs in the tube. She was used to the fresh air now, but feeling so ill and being so worried seemed to make her unsteady. Even so, it was still a thrill to breathe the natural atmosphere and taste the delicious green smell. And it would be good to see him. Even if she did have to give him this unbelievable news.

Marijam was a little early arriving. At least that way, though, she could sit and think what she should say to Gabrizan when he arrived. The sound of the Waterfall was soothing somehow. She surprised herself by beginning to feel quite cheerful. She was so looking forward to seeing him.

She had been coming up on to the surface for eight weeks now. Everything seemed so much more alive up there. The running water fascinated her. It was moving on its own. Not like in the water channels in the caves. It wasn't driven by motors. It smelt so different, too. She dangled her hand into the pool that formed at the bottom of the fall. It felt silkier than her finest tunic. A soft breeze moved one of the ferns. It looked as if it was waving to her.  Marijam was fascinated by the shoots of green which were coming up through the now much browner earth. It was incredible to think that it was only just eight weeks since the poison cloud had lifted. Already the planet was beginning to get back to how it had been.

 What was it going to be like when the others came up to the surface in two days' time? She was going to have to pretend she was surprised too.

It was beginning to get dark. Marijam shivered. Where was Gabrizan? It wasn't like him to be late. She was beginning to get cold. It hadn't been this cold before up on the surface. The sun was going down rapidly now. There were some clouds forming on the horizon. The first ordinary rain clouds since the poison cloud had disappeared.

Marijam decided to walk a little way up the path which led from the base of the waterfall to the cliff above. It must have been a natural path, because it was still easy enough to walk along, even though no-one had been along it for over 1200 years - apart from when she and Gabrizan had been up there a few days ago. She just loved the view from up there. She could stare for hours at the pink and grey rock which was getting a lace-like coating of green. 

By the time she reached the top, though, the sun had gone all together. The clouds were so thin and scanty it was still possible to see the night sky. But she couldn't see land like she had the other time. 

Marijam sat and stared at the stars. They were so clear and bright compared with how they had looked from behind the plastiglass and further dulled by the poison cloud. Time never seemed to matter to her and Gabrizan when they were out there.

Only it wasn't "they" tonight. It was just "she" now. Marijam shivered again. She pressed the controls on her wristband. 20.30 already. He had never been this late. In fact, he had never been late. Now it was more than an hour after the time he'd said he would come. Why didn't he use the mini compu? Was he so far away that he was out of range? Perhaps being outside made a difference. 

Marijam wasn't so sure she liked it out here so much now that she was on her own. It was getting colder and colder. She touched the button of her compu.

"Gabrizan Taylor 0051," she said, after the tinny voice had asked whom she wanted to contact.

"Unavailable," squeaked the robotic voice. Not out of range. Nor occupied. Just not available. It seemed as if his interview was taking longer than they had expected. Oh she hoped he would get on the Northern Lights Project. And that she would, too. It would be great to work together.

Except there was just this one little problem. Well, no it was actually quite big really. Another wave of nausea passed through Marijam. Only this time she knew it was not to do with that strange biological change that had taken place in her body. Not directly, anyway. It was because she didn't think she could face the other changes which were about to happen.

She shivered again. Well, it was obvious she wasn't going to see Gabrizan tonight. He just must have got held up at his interview. It was almost a relief not to have to give out this dreadful news tonight. Even though she missed seeing him.

Marijam was quite glad to get back inside, in the end. It was more frightening and less of an exciting adventure to go out there alone. She was feeling tired as well. Perhaps she would sleep better tonight, now. She was looking forward to her bed in any case.

The lights were on in the communal room of the Kennedy apartment when she arrived back.   Both Frazier and Louish Kennedy were sitting there in silence. Their faces looked grim.

"Well, did you see him?" asked Frazier. Marijam had never heard him sound so angry.

"Did he turn up for you?" he demanded. "Because he sure didn't turn up for his second interview!"

"We tried to get you on the mini compu," said Louish. "Only we couldn’t get through."

Marijam wondered whether it had been because she was outside. But then her compu had communicated with the centre. Perhaps it could get to the centre but no further…or perhaps they had called just as she was trying to call Gabrizan.

"He's a waste of space," hissed Frazier. "We'd set up a really expensive programme for him. No-one else could do what we had in mind for him."

Then Marijam realised what her father had just told her. Not only had Gabrizan not turned up to see her this evening, he had not turned up for the second part of his interview. He had disappeared. He was gone. She was on her own now.

The nausea came again. She managed to mumble something about being tired, and hurried off to  her room.

She just made it to the bathroom in time again. Now it came as a relief to throw up the heavy feeling out of her stomach. As if she was giving way to all the tension that was inside her.

She came back from the bathroom and collapsed on to the bed. The tears started. She could hear her parents' muffled voices. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but that her father had sounded angry and her mother concerned. She heard the door open and her mother say, "Can’t you see how pale she looked? That boy has hurt her."

Marijam closed her eyes. Then there was nothing. Just peace and blackness. Marijam hoped she might never wake up.

Veiled Dreams Chapter 3 Bad Timing

click on image to view on Amazon

 Christina heard voices in the hallway and then the door slammed. He had gone. She had let him go.

Why did I do do that? thought Christina. I am so stupid. Why didn’t I just take the flowers and say thank you, and we could have carried on from where we left off. She always seemed to do the same. Tell him the opposite of what she really thought. Well, not always, but often when it mattered.

When Paul woke up and told her Jan was here, her heart started thumping. She’d wanted to jump out of bed and rush to him and fling her arms round him. But then she’d remembered Paul was there and she didn’t want him to see her doing that. And then she hadn’t had a shower yet and she might be a bit smelly. Let alone the state of her hair.

And a little voice inside her had said she should not give in to him too easily, that she should make him suffer a bit for the way she’d suffered when he’d been away.   

Oh, and she’d missed him so much. There was so much to tell him. That they’d got her medication right now, and she probably wouldn’t have any more fits. That she’d done well in the IB mocks. Why couldn’t she just have accepted the flowers? And she did really know that he had to go to the bikers’ convention.  

Christina groaned. She pulled herself up off the bed. She ran a hand through the wild hair and then started attacking with the brush. Then, she got herself quickly through the shower. Paul was in the kitchen when she got there, reading his latest computer magazine.  

‘There’s some coffee,’ he said.

She poured a cup. It was too hot to drink yet. She sat and thought about Jan while it cooled down a bit.   

‘It’ll be cold if you don’t drink it soon,’ said Paul.

‘Oh dear!’ said Christina. She took a sip. It was cold. It was disgusting.

‘Why did you have to be like that with him?’ asked Paul. ‘Don’t know what he was thinking, bringing you flowers. That early in the morning. ’

‘What do you know about it?’ snapped Christina ‘Leave me alone.’

‘All right, all right,’ said Paul. ‘Anyway, I think Van Bredow’s got your flowers. I saw him leave and he hadn’t got them anymore. She was just coming in.’

She would phone him. Then she would go and rescue the flowers.

She tried the landline and then his mobile. No reply to either. 

‘It’s useless,’ she said to Paul. ‘He won’t take my calls.’

‘Don’t’ be daft,’ said Paul. ‘He won’t be back yet.’

‘I suppose,’ said Christina, knowing that the time was going to drag now. She bit her lip and started kicking the leg of the kitchen table. Not hard. Just as something to do with her leg. Paul looked up and frowned.    

‘Why don’t you go and get your flowers back from Van Bredow, then when you do speak to him, you can thank him properly. You’ll know what they look like then,’ Paul suggested.

Christina wasn’t sure that she wanted to go and listen to one of their elderly neighbour’s lectures. On the other hand, it was better than having Paul being so smug.

A few moments later she was tentatively ringing the doorbell of the apartment which shared their entrance hall.

‘Ah, Christina,’ said the funny little woman. ‘You have come for your flowers, I expect. They are so beautiful. That is a lovely young man you have there. Come one in, come on in.’

Mrs Van Bredow’s apartment was dark inside. She had the blinds shut and it was overfilled with dark old-fashioned furniture. But there in the centre of the room, on the large square coffee table, was a vase of bright yellow and red flowers. They seemed to fill the room with light and energy.

‘You can take the vase home with you,’ said Mrs Van Bredow. ‘After all, it is not as if nice young men buy me flowers any more. And it suits these ones so much.’

Christina couldn’t speak. She just stared at the flowers. Jan had got it so right.

‘Well,’ said Mrs Von Bredow. ‘Are you going to take them? Are you going to phone him?’ She went to pick up the vase, but her hand cramped up. She winced with the pain.

That must really hurt, thought Christina.

‘Well, have you?’ Mrs Von Bredow asked again. ‘That boy deserves to know where he stands. Don’t be so haughty, Missy.’ 

‘I’ve tried,’ said Christina. ‘But he’s not answering.’

‘Might not have got back yet,’ replied the old lady. ‘Anyway, you should go and see him. It’s better if you talk face to face.’

Christina knew she was right. God, why was she such a mop-head? Why hadn’t she just been glad he’s turned up?

‘Okay, Mrs Van B., ‘said Christina. ‘You are right of course.’

‘Try once more before you go,’ said Mrs Van Bredow. She handed Christina the phone. Her fingers cramped up again around the handset. She caught her breath.

Christina punched Jan’s number into the phone. It seemed an age before it started to ring. She counted ten tones, and then waited a few more seconds. Nothing. Oh, she did want to hear his voice again, now.

‘You’d better go then,’ said Mrs Van Bredow.

‘I will,’ replied Christina. ‘Thank you Mrs Van Bredow. Will you look after my flowers for me until I get back?’ She hugged the little old lady.

‘Of course. Get on then,’ replied Mrs Van Bredow.

Minutes later, Christina was by the tram stop. She was going to have to change twice and get off right outside Jan’s door, or change just once and have a ten minute walk. She couldn’t decide which to do, and in the end opted for seeing which tram came first. A number five: so, ten  minutes on foot at the end. That wouldn’t hurt. A good brisk walk might calm her down a bit.

It was such a cheerful sunny day already. It was going to be all right.

It took a while to load the tram. So many people were getting on here and the driver was carefully checking everybody’s ticket. But then she was really lucky. She even managed to get a seat. A tall girl with a headscarf wrapped tightly round her head and a veil draped across her face sat down next to her. The girl nodded.

That’s so weird, thought Christina. Why do they do that?

The girl took a book out of her bag and started to read. Christina recognised it as one of her IB text books.

She must be about the same age as me then, thought Christina. Even weirder.

She didn’t think any more about the girl, though, until it was time to get off the tram. She was too busy thinking about what it would be like to be with Jan again. She was looking forward to his dancing eyes, and hearing his funny stories – he always made them sound funny, even if they really weren’t – from his biker trip. And perhaps he’d kiss her. She loved it when he got just a little bit carried away. And it was so sweet, the way he held back then.

‘Excuse me please,’ she said in her best Dutch.

The girl with the veil jumped slightly. She must have found the IB geography text book so much more fascinating than Christina did. Then her eyes crinkled up and Christina could tell that she was smiling. It was odd. So odd. She could tell that the girl was smiling, even though she couldn’t see her lips.

She was lucky again. The number nine tram came almost immediately. Another five minutes on the tram, and then that quick walk. She had to stand this time but she didn’t really mind. She didn’t think she would be able to sit still anyway. Concentrating on keeping her balance and not falling into other people was a good distraction.  

It did only take the usual five minutes. The trams were never held up by other traffic. But the time couldn’t go quickly enough for Christina.

As soon as it stopped, she pushed her way out through the crowd and was soon marching smartly along the wide avenue past the park near where Jan lived. Her heartbeat got faster and faster, partly from the walking but mainly at the thought of seeing him. At one point she almost turned round and went back. It was getting a bit much. And suppose he was mad with her now?

She turned into the narrow street which ran alongside the canal. Yes! She could see his motorbike parked outside his flat. She walked faster and faster, almost running.

Then he came out of the flat. Oh no! He was going to go out.

‘Jan!’ she called, running now. ‘Jan! Wait!’

He had the spare helmet with him, the one she normally wore when she rode with him. Perhaps he was going to see her. But wait. Why wasn’t he putting it into the luggage compartment?                                 

Then Susanne Richards come out of the front door. Dressed like a tart. She got on the bike, behind Jan. He said something to Susanne. He revved the engine and the bike set off. Seconds later, they were coming towards Christina.

She quickly ducked into a doorway. No, this couldn’t be happening. This was a nightmare.

They passed just a couple of metres in front of her. She couldn’t see their faces because of the helmets. She felt sick. She dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands and bit her lip hard to try and stop herself crying.

That was it then, wasn’t it? It was over. And there was nothing she could do about it.      

A Gallery for Nick Chapter 3

                                                                    

Chapter 3

The water was warm in the pool the next morning. Too warm. It would have been alright for casual swimmers, but not for someone who had not had enough sleep and who had got a record to break. Barney really did need to improve his front crawl time.

He swam up and down the pool a few times. He wasn't making a particular effort.  He just wanted to wake himself up a bit. This was just a warm up after all. Geoff Williams, his coach, wouldn't be watching him at this stage. The sun had come up now but was still low in the sky and dazzled him as it shone through the windows at the end of the pool. A shadow stepped into the light.

“More effort Barney. You should be more supple than that already.”

Barney recognised Geoff's voice.

“Now let’s have a proper warm-up session. Two lengths front crawl, one back, two breast-stroke and one final front crawl. Steady at first, and then fast as you can on the last length.”

Barney set off. He tried to measure and balance each stroke as he moved through the water. He concentrated on his movements, trying to get each one exactly right.

“Good,” said Geoff, as he turned at the end of his first length. “Just watch how you cut through the water when your left hand comes down. It’s not going through cleanly enough.”

Barney concentrated on his left hand now. He felt his movements becoming even smoother in the water.

“Good, good,” mumbled Geoff. “Try and turn in one movement.”

Barney flipped over onto his back. He enjoyed back crawl. You could keep your eyes open and it was easier to breathe, even though the movement with the arms was a little bit more difficult.  Soon he had completed that length and it was time for the breast-stroke. He controlled his breathing carefully. His head bobbed up and down. He was mastering the stroke and was actually beginning to enjoy it. Just the snag that he couldn’t go really fast. 

“Now – go for it!” cried Geoff, as Barney came up to his final length.  

There was something about Geoff's voice which always stirred Barney into action. The energy was now pumping around his body. He was suddenly wide awake.  The water was still warm, but it didn’t bother him anymore.  He still moved smoothly through the water because of his practice earlier but now more quickly. His heart-rate went up  and he became a little short of breath. Then something else seemed to take over and he was through the discomfort and going faster and faster. The water seemed to be working with him. He was no longer fighting it.  Finally, he touched the side of the pool, out of breath, but pleased with himself.

“That was better!” said Geoff. “Now, let’s just work on your technique a bit more. Have a short rest, another warm-up and then we’ll time you.”

Barney was really into the session now. Geoff was a fair coach. He worked you hard. But it got results and he did give you the credit for them. Barney swam a few more lengths and Geoff pointed out one or two faults with his style. They worked on them a little. Then it was time for a rest, followed by another warm up.

 “Okay, let’s get going then,” said Geoff.

Barney took a deep breath. Then off he went, arms cutting smartly through the water. He kept his head down as much as possible, only coming up every third or fourth stroke for air. He pushed and pushed, forcing himself to go faster and faster. Each time he looked up, the side was getting nearer and nearer. Then he pushed himself even harder.

“Come on, come on,” urged Geoff.  “You can do it.”

Barney seemed to change gear, to enter another dimension. He could no longer hear the noise of the pool, just a gentle swish as his arms followed each other in and out of the  water. There was no splash. On and on, speeding up all the time. He was numb. He couldn't feel the water, couldn't feel his own movements. He had forgotten who and where he was. He was just concentrating on getting through the water. He came to for just a few seconds and asked himself whether this was how Nick felt. Or didn’t feel. The nothingness. But no, Nick couldn’t control his muscles like that.

Then he could hear the noise again. Arms and legs were splashing through the water. Other voices were shouting instructions.  He felt the water once more. Even if it was still not cold it was at least wet. His arm stretched forward and touched the side. As he felt the smoothness of the tiles, his left leg seized up completely. A pain shot through his side, almost into his arm. He wanted to cry out with the agony of it. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

“All right, all right, hang on in there.” Geoff was leaning over the side and pulling him out. He helped Barney up, and then started massaging his leg. Gradually, gradually the cramp stopped. Barney felt the warmth creeping up his leg, the life returning to it.

“The good news is,” said Geoff, now panting himself after the strenuous effort on Barney’s leg, “you broke your own record – just. The bad news is that it is only just, and you should not be getting cramps like this.”

Barney dreaded what was coming next. And yet he knew!

“Not enough sleep. Not enough exercise. And junk food. Am I right?”

Barney nodded. He had spent so much time with Nick recently that he had rarely been home for dinner and ended up grabbing something simple out of the freezer. Nick’s mum had often offered to feed him, but Barney found that difficult. Nick had to eat so slowly these days and Barney didn’t want to watch him choke.      

Geoff suddenly clapped Barney on the back.

“But you did do it! And I know you’ll be sensible.”

Barney suddenly felt pleased with himself. So he was managing to do something right!  If he could beat his own record despite everything else that was going on ….

“So what are your plans for the rest of the day?” asked Geoff, passing him another towel.

“Popping round to see Nick, and then homework,” explained Barney.

“Just be careful,” said Geoff quietly. “Don’t overdo things.”

That again, thought Barney. It was just too bad. They would all have to put up with it. There was no way he could let Nick down.

“Okay,” he mumbled back to Geoff. “See you Tuesday.”

The Prophecy Chapter 3

This just did not happen. Not in the thirty-fifth century. There was no need for it. It was barbaric.

No matter how she tugged, the tunic would not close at the back. She couldn’t bear anything touching her breasts. She couldn’t even bear touching them herself. And this horrid feeling every morning, and sometimes at other times of the day. This feeling of fullness, of something wanting to get out, then her throat filling with the foul-tasting liquid, which forced itself out of her mouth.

Gross! She thought as she looked at the contents of the lavatory pan.

It wasn’t supposed to happen anymore, either. But the diastic monitor had not been able to adjust the water supply this time. The alarm bell rang – the first one to ring for over two hundred years.

Marijam shuddered as she remembered. She was alone then and managed to disconnect the machine before it relayed its information to central control. She started to do her own research.

It was called vomiting. It used to happen when there was something wrong with the digestive system.  Nobody had things wrong with their digestive systems any more.

She’d found out just the day before. Vomiting also used to happen often in the first stages of pregnancy in the old days when babies were gestated in a human womb, not in artificial incubators as they were now.

Surely she had received the Stopes treatment as a child? She rechecked her medical record. Certainly, it was there. And surely Gabrizan had done the same?

So how had this happened? She must talk to him. Last night was the first time she hadn’t seen him since that first time at the Waterfall when he had kissed the back of her neck, sending ripples of excitement through her …

Gabrizan had had his interview yesterday for the Northern Lights Project. He had had to stay overnight at the Nuffield Centre.

Would she hear something soon?

On cue, the dataserve kicked in. There was an important message for her. She held her breath.

Her father’s picture came on to the screen. He had his official face on. It was probably being broadcast to everyone, then, and not a personal message.

Marijam didn’t know whether she liked him most when he was just being Dad or when he sat there as now, looking wise and dignified and seeming a whole ten centimetres taller.

‘Well Miss Kennedy,’ her father’s official voice spoke. ‘Good news. You are invited for interview to join the Northern Lights Project as a research student. On successful completion of your Part 1, you would be able to proceed to becoming a full research fellow.’ Frazier Kennedy then grinned. ‘Well done, sweetie,’ he beamed.

He really looked happy. For a few seconds Marijam felt pleased as well. Then that uncontrollable wave of nausea came again. She ran towards the bathroom.

Just in time, she managed to bend her head over the toilet. The vile orange fluid came up again.

This is really gross. But really, thought Marijam. This can’t be happening. Why hasn’t the Stopes programme worked?

She must find Gabrizan. Perhaps he would know how this had happened. Was it something to do with him?

Pull yourself together, lady, she said to herself as she made her way back to her room. You’ve got some important business to sort out here.

The dataserve whirred.

‘Downloading joining instructions for the Northern Lights Project interview,’ said the tinny metallic voice.

‘Relate,’ said Marijam.

‘Your interview will take place on Level 6, Lab 10 at the Nuffield Centre,’ she read. ‘Please report 15.30,  Day 79, 3500. A transporter pod will be sent to collect you  at 14.00. Please bring overnight bag. Interview procedures take 24 hours.’

Lab 10! That was where Gabrizan had had to go yesterday. Perhaps he would be going back there? Perhaps they would be able to work together. If she was allowed to work at all, of course, now.

What was she going to do? Was she some sort of freak that the Stopes programme wouldn’t work on? Or Gabrizan? Should she tell her parents?

She couldn’t. How could she tell that their daughter was a misfit, a quirk of nature?

At least Gabrizan was due back this evening. How she was going to tell him she couldn’t begin to think. But it would be good to see him.

She didn’t look too bad in the blue velvet tunic. It was the best colour for the moment. The only one that didn’t make her look even greener. But it still wasn’t a pretty sight that greeted her in the mirror. Her hair seemed to have lost most of its shine. There were dark circles around her eyes. She had not been able to sleep well for the last two nights. Her face was white.

What will he think? she asked herself.

Marijam felt dizzy as she made her way up the rungs in the tube. She was used to the fresh air now, but feeling so ill and worried seemed to make her unsteady. Even so, it was still a thrill to breathe the natural atmosphere and taste the delicious green smell. It would be good to see him. Even if she did have to give him this unbelievable news.

She arrived early. That gave her time to sit and think about what she should say to Gabrizan when he arrived.

The sound of the Waterfall was soothing somehow. She was so looking forward to seeing him, despite everything. Everything seemed so much more alive up on the surface. The running water moved on its own. The water channels in the caves were driven by motors. It smelt so different, too. She dangled her hand into the pool that formed at the bottom of the fall. It felt silkier than her finest tunic. The soft breeze, moved one of the ferns so it looked as if it was waving to her.  Shoots of green which were coming up through the now much browner earth. And it was just eight weeks since the poison cloud had lifted. What was it going to be like when the others came up to the surface in two days’ time? She was going to have to pretend she was surprised too.

It began to get dark. Marijam shivered. Where was Gabrizan? It wasn’t like him to be late. She was beginning to get cold. It hadn’t been this cold before up on the surface. The sun was going down rapidly now. Some clouds were forming on the horizon - the first ordinary rain clouds since the poison cloud had disappeared.

Marijam decided to walk a little way up the path which led from the base of the waterfall to the cliff above. It must have been a natural path, because it was still easy enough to walk along, even though no-one had been along it for over 1200 years - apart from when she and Gabrizan had been up there a few days ago. She just loved the view from up there. She could stare for hours at the pink and grey rock which was getting a lace-like coating of green.

By the time she reached the top, though, the sun had gone all together. The clouds were so thin and scanty it was still possible to see the night sky. But she couldn’t see land like she had the other time.

Marijam sat and stared at the stars. They were so clear and bright compared with how they had looked from behind the plastiglass and further dulled by the poison cloud. Time never seemed to matter to her and Gabrizan when they were out there.

Only it wasn’t ‘they’ tonight. It was just ‘she’ now. Marijam shivered again. She pressed the controls on her wristband. 20.30 already. He had never been this late. In fact, he had never been late. Now it was more than an hour after the time he’d said he would come. Why didn’t he use the mini compu? Was he so far away that he was out of range? Perhaps being outside made a difference.

Marijam wasn’t so sure she liked it out here so much now that she was on her own. It was getting colder and colder. She touched the button of her compu.

‘Gabrizan Taylor 0051,’ she said, after the tinny voice had asked whom she wanted to contact.

‘Unavailable,’ squeaked the robotic voice. Not out of range. Nor occupied. Just not available. His interview was taking longer than they had expected. Oh she hoped he would get on the Northern Lights Project. And that she would, too. It would be great to work together.

Except there was just this one little problem. Well, no it was actually quite big really. Another wave of nausea passed through Marijam. She knew that this time it was not to do with that strange biological change that had taken place in her body. Not directly, anyway. It was because she didn’t think she could face the other changes which were about to happen.

She shivered again. Well, it was obvious she wasn’t going to see Gabrizan tonight. He just must have got held up at his interview. It was almost a relief not to have to give out this dreadful news tonight. Even though she missed seeing him.

Marijam was quite glad to get back inside. It was more frightening and less of an exciting adventure to go out there alone. She was feeling tired as well. Perhaps she would sleep better tonight, now.

The lights were on in the communal room of the Kennedy apartment when she arrived back. Both Frazier and Louish Kennedy were sitting there in silence. Their faces looked grim.

‘Well, did you see him?’ asked Frazier. Marijam had never heard him sound so angry.

‘Did he turn up for you?’ he demanded. ‘Because he sure didn’t turn up for his second interview!’

‘We tried to get you on the mini compu,’ said Louish. ‘Only we couldn’t get through.’

Marijam wondered whether it had been because she was outside. But then her compu had communicated with the centre. Perhaps it could get to the centre but no further…or perhaps they had called just as she was trying to call Gabrizan.

‘He’s a waste of space,’ hissed Frazier. ‘We’d set up a really expensive programme for him. No-one else could do what we had in mind for him.’

Then Marijam realised what her father had just told her. Not only had Gabrizan not turned up to see her this evening, he had not turned up for the second part of his interview. He had disappeared. He was gone. She was on her own now.

The nausea came again. She managed to mumble something about being tired, and hurried off to her room.

She just made it to the bathroom in time. Now it came as a relief to throw up the heavy feeling out of her stomach. As if she was giving way to all the tension that was inside her.

She came back from the bathroom and collapsed on to the bed. The tears started. She could hear her parents’ muffled voices. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but that her father had sounded angry and her mother concerned. She heard the door open and her mother say, ‘Can’t you see how pale she looked? That boy has hurt her.’

Marijam closed her eyes. Then there was nothing. Just blackness. Marijam hoped she might never wake up.