The Prophecy, At the Citadel, Chapter Five

‘It’s a big step,’ said Razjosh. ‘It would be a big step anyway, but it’s even bigger now that we are going against the wishes of the Council of Ministries. That has never happened before.’

They were in Kaleem’s room. A robot was packing the strange Zandrian clothes that had quickly been made for him in the few hours since Razjosh and Chief Makisson had come to a decision: Operation Peace Child should begin in earnest.

Is there any choice? thought Kaleem. This was what he had been trained for. It was the only way they could fight the disease.

‘You do have the choice. You can refuse,’ Razjosh continued. ‘After all, you could go public on this. The Council of Ministries would surely be on your side,’ he added dryly.

No, thought Kaleem. It’s too late now. We have to do this thing.

‘We’d better go,’ mumbled Kaleem. His voice came out high and squeaky.

‘If you’re sure,’ said Razjosh. ‘There’s just one more thing we shall have to teach you before we go.’

Not more, thought Kaleem. What else could I possibly learn?

‘We shall have to teach you how to cope with interrogation,’ continued Razjosh.

Kaleem felt slightly sick. It had been great thinking that he was about to be some sort of ambassador, a bringer of peace. Now it sounded as if he was going to pretend to be something he wasn’t and gather information about other people. He could get into a lot of trouble if he was found out.

‘Just in case,’ said Razjosh. ‘Hopefully you won’t need it.’

Kaleem swallowed hard. He watched dataserve’s screen flickering rapidly. All of the Peace Child files were being transferred to a portable machine, which would fit into his belt. This was going to stay with him all of the time. This information would not be entrusted to the Supercraft’s dataserve. Once he was safely installed on Zandra, he would be able to transfer all of the information on to the Zandrian dataserve which would be given him.

‘I wish we could go now!’ said Kaleem.

The dataserve stopped whirring and then announced that the transfer of files was complete. Razjosh handed Kaleem the belt. Kaleem fastened it around his waist and then pulled the Zandrian tunic over it so that it did not show.

‘Packing complete,’ announced the robot.

‘Let’s go and meet the others then,’ said Razjosh.

So this was it. This was really it.

Sandi and Danielle were already sitting in the lounge near the main entrance to the Citadel when they arrived there. There were two rough-looking men there as well. Kaleem could see straight away that they were Z Zoners, despite the normal Citadel clothing. Their hair was grey.

‘Menjit Crossman, Abel Stansted,’ said Razjosh, ‘Kaleem Malkendy, Peace Child. I think you already know the others.’

Menjit, the taller of the two men, was frowning. ‘We don’t really understand why we’re going to Zandra,’ he said. ‘or why you’ve asked us to navigate.’

Abel Crossman was staring at Kaleem.

I bet he thinks my hair’s funny or something, thought Kaleem. He stared back at the man. He really should not complain about Kaleem’s hair. He looked more different from a normal Terrestran than Kaleem did. His back was bent and his skin all dry and leathery. In some ways he looked just like someone who was about to go through switch-off. But he moved like somebody who was about thirty and very fit.

‘We have to take the Peace Child to the Zandrians. We need him to negotiate about a possible cure for this illness which has made so many people die too young,’ replied Razjosh.

The two Z Zoners looked at each other. Abel shrugged and Menjit shook his head.

‘Dying young’s nothing in the Z Zone,’ said Menjit. ‘It happens all the time. Mainly because people starve.’

‘If you do this thing, we shall see to it that you get a free pardon, that you’re allowed back into normal society,’ said Razjosh.

Menjit and Abel exchanged a glance. Abel shook his head.

‘Do you really think that will be any good to us?’ Menjit said. ‘It’s actually too late. We’ve been too long in the Zone.’

‘So why have you come?’  asked Razjosh.

Menjit looked at Abel again. Then he looked back at Razjosh.

‘What you’re doing seems important,’ he said.

‘And we especially like the fact,’ said Abel, ‘that you’re doing it without proper permission. Welcome to the Z Zone!’ He was grinning now.

Kaleem’s stomach had started to churn again.

Abel stopped smiling suddenly.

‘There is just one little problem, though,’ he said.   ‘We’ve only driven one Supercraft before, and it wasn’t quite as clever as this baby.’

Kaleem noticed that Razjosh had gone pale.

‘Are you going to be able to get us there?’ asked the Elder.

‘We’ll manage,’ said Menjit. ‘Living in the Z Zone is good training for anything. Though I don’t suppose it’ll be exactly a smooth ride.’

Abel was grinning again.

‘Should be a bit of a white-knuckle trip,’ he said. ‘You’ll all have to hold on tight.’

‘Okay,’ said Razjosh. ‘Let’s get on to the transporter and get over to the space port. Chief Makisson has given me the codes that will let us into the building and into the Supercraft itself. ‘

They all picked up their luggage, ready to get into the transporter when the dataserve screen in the reception area suddenly lit up.

‘Message for Kaleem Malkendy,’ said the electronic voice.

Kaleem caught Razjosh’s eye. Could they afford this delay? Who could be trying to contact him now?

Razjosh nodded.

‘Receive,’ said Kaleem.

It was Oxton again. He was grinning widely.

‘Major breakthrough,’ he said.

Before he could add any more another face had appeared on the screen. Kaleem gasped as he recognised his mother.

‘You’re going, then,’ said Maria. ‘You’re really going to go and be a Peace Child now. Good. Good. You know that’s what you’re there for, don’t you? You know it’s part of the Prophecy? I wish I could come with you, but they wouldn’t let me.’

Well, of course they wouldn’t.  She was talking fairly normally now, but she still didn’t look completely well. Her face was thin and grey and there were still dark circles around her eyes.

‘You’re going to pull down the tower,’ she said. ‘You’re going to be the Peace Child who pulls down the tower.’

Kaleem felt himself going hot.

‘Are you, …. Are you feeling better?’ he stammered. He was aware that everyone was staring at him.

‘Yes,’ said Maria. ‘Yes, I am. It’s as if a cloud has suddenly gone. But I’m still a bit tired. But there is one thing I want to tell you first. My real name is Marijam. And our surname’s Kennedy. I’ll tell you more soon. But I’m really tired now. I have to go now.’

Oxton’s face reappeared on the screen. Kaleem could not believe what he had just heard. Could it really be that she was the daughter of the Head of Education, that young woman who had disappeared all those years ago.

‘It’s like a miracle, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll look after her. She’s making great progress. She really is.’

Razjosh cleared his throat. ‘Well, I think we now know who your grandfather is, even if we don’t know who your father is. This could be helpful,’ he said. ‘But we have to go now. We really have to go.’

‘Sure,’ said Oxton. ‘Good luck with everything.’

Kaleem didn’t know what to think or feel. There was a large lump in his throat. In one way he was relieved that his mother had made such a breakthrough before they went. He wished he could have gone and seen her, especially as it now seemed she was going to tell him what he really wanted to know. He just been given some amazing news and there was absolutely no time to sit and take it all in.

And of course, he was scared. Scared about this journey, and scared about what would happen at the end of it.

Menjit and Abel were whispering excitedly.

‘I think it is, you know,’ Kaleem heard Abel say quietly.

Razjosh cleared his throat again.

‘Just who was that lady?’ said Abel, now out loud.

The doors to the reception area swished open. The transporter was purring and ready to go.

The Prophecy The Z Zone Two

The body of the Mother carried on growing. She became less comfortable. The shine went from her hair. The tremendous energy had begun to wane, as she found her now huge form harder and harder to move.

She could feel the baby moving almost all of the time now. What before had seemed a neat trick, a sweet moment, now became an annoyance. The outline of the foot appearing on the belly now meant a kick in the stomach, heartburn or an uncomfortable feeling under the ribs.

She found it difficult to eat. There was no room for her food. The baby was taking up all of the space inside.

She moved less, and when she did move, she felt heavy and ugly.

I’m glad he went, she told herself. I’m glad he can’t see me like this.

‘The head is engaged,’ said the old woman, one day as she felt the Mother’s belly. ‘The baby will be here soon.’

At times she would walk around their cave home. She had to walk, even though she did not feel like it, because if she didn’t her legs would cramp up and she would have excruciating pains travelling through the whole of her body.

As she walked, she could feel the head of the life inside her bouncing on top of its exit. She was sure that at any second it would just fall out.

I wish the baby would hurry up and come, she thought to herself.  I would like my body back.

But  then she would feel sick with fear. The old midwife had told her what to expect of the birth. The baby would not just fall out. There were likely to be hours of pain, fluids dripping from her body, blood flowing between her legs, and high temperatures. The baby would not be cute and clean when it appeared. It would be covered in blood, and wrinkled, most likely and with a thick fleshy cord coming from its belly.  But the worst thought of all was of that great head, which she could already feel so keenly, forcing its way through that gap so much too small.

There was going to be very little help in the Z Zone. If they had still had all the technology available in the normal zones, it would have been of little use here. Even the Z Zoners, with the exception of Narisja, had forgotten about birthing and she had not practiced it for many years.

The older woman put the Mother through her lessons. She told her how to breathe - shallow for when the pains were sharp and she wanted to push, deep for when she needed to relax. She showed her how to push, how not to put the energy into her throat but to direct it downwards, and so help the baby on its way.

‘Then we will put Him on your breast and give Him His first milk. That is the milk which is rich in nutrients and fights disease,’ she said. She ignored the Mother’s grimace at the word ‘disease’. ‘You have fine breasts,’ she continued. ‘The Child will be well nurtured from these breasts.’

The Mother shivered. She did not like to think of the child sucking at her nipples. It was animal-like. It was barbaric. It was just not done these days.

They still looked at the book. The Mother slowly found herself absorbed by the story. She imagined the people planning their great city and building the tall tower, which would lead them up to God. She saw them as flesh and blood, not just as the paper cut-outs here, though they did look fine in their silver and gold clothing.

‘Read it to me,’ said the old woman. And the Mother read it, from beginning to end. Her eyes skimmed across the Wordtext sections. She did not need to read them. She knew them so well.

She felt more and more uneasy as she came to the part where the tower began to tumble. It looked almost nothing in the pictures, but she could imagine the people screaming, and the children falling then searching in vain for their mothers and fathers in the debris on the ground.

‘Those poor children,’ she said to Narisja

‘You are bound to think of the children,’ said Narisja, ‘in your condition.’

At least they had mothers and fathers, thought the Mother, rubbing her huge belly, unlike you, my poor little one. She tried to stop the tears as she thought of how it might have been if Gabrizan could have been there with her.

‘It is so good that you are here,’ said the older woman. ‘It is so good that you came to the Zone, carrying the Babel book.’ She spoke as if she had not seen the Mother’s tears. But the Mother knew that her old friend understood her pain.

She could move less now, and the dancing had stopped. She had time to think. And she thought of what might happen after the birth. Would Narisja still keep her prisoner here? One day she dared to ask.

‘Narisja,’ she said, ‘what should happen to me and the child after he is born? Should we stay here?’

The older woman stared at her for several minutes. Then she looked away. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She turned back to the Mother and looked deep into her eyes.

‘The Child will know what is best to do,’ she said. the old woman. ‘We must trust in Him.’

Now it was the turn of the younger woman to look away.

This is nonsense, she told herself. It was just a mistake. They are hiding me behind a prophecy. Then she shuddered again as she remembered that the Stopes programmes had failed, though the Stopes programmes never failed. It was the book, the simple story in which Narisja had so much faith, which had saved her. Nevertheless, she asked herself what sort of life she and the Child would lead here, in the Z Zone.

The days followed the usual pattern. The Mother rested more and more. The older woman completed the chores. One day the Mother woke up, full of energy again.

‘I want to help you to beat the rugs,’ she said to Narisja ‘I want to boil the bean soup and want to move all the dust out of the cave. It must be clean for the sake of the child.’

And she set to, broom in hand. She sang as she worked. She swept and scrubbed, she peeled and scraped. She felt strong. She felt brave. She felt happy. She was reluctant to lie on her bed for the midwife to examine her.

‘I must get on. I must get everything ready for the baby,’ she said.

Eventually she had to let the older woman look at her. There was a fire in the eyes of the midwife as she gently felt around the contours of the swollen belly. The old woman put the listening tube to the lump.

‘Good,’ she murmured. ‘Very good indeed.’

‘May  I go now?’ said the Mother and rushed from the bed. She took the feather duster and started to flick it high up the cave walls. Nothing was going to beat her.

Suddenly there was a sharp pain in the small of her back. She dropped the duster and held her breath, trying to count the pain away. Something warm trickled from the space between her legs. She saw the blood dripping to the floor. A gush of water, warm and steaming, which she could not control splashed around her feet.  Then came the second pain.

The old woman smiled.

‘Good,’ she said. ‘It is time.’

The Prophecy Overground Chapter Two

It was almost two hours before Kaleem was able to take another look at the strange file. First of all there had been supper with his mother. Then they talked for a while.

‘You really worry me sometimes,’ said Maria. ‘You just don’t go out enough. You don’t  mix with the others.’

I don’t go out enough? thought Kaleem. You can talk, Mum.

‘It’s in order, Mum,’ he said. ‘I like working here in the caves. I’ve everything I need on the dataserve.’

‘That’s exactly what I mean, though,’ continued Maria. ‘You’re working too hard. And you’re not getting enough fresh air.’

For goodness sake. This was the woman who spent all of her time facing a dataserve.

‘Oh, fresh air’s overrated,’ he said. ‘Not many people bother. Everybody prefers the ionised air in the apartments. It is better balanced.’

‘Not so good in the caves though,’ she said grimly. ‘They don’t bother too much with us. We may as well have come from the Z Zone.’

Kaleem felt uncomfortable. He wanted to suggest that he should go back to his room and carry on working. Maria always seemed so bitter when she talked about the Z Zone, but she always talked as if she knew more about it than she should. If she did, though, she refused to tell him much about it. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like in the Z Zone. He only knew it was for people who could not or would not fit in with the rest of society. He had a vague idea that the authorities made it as difficult as possible for people who lived there.

At least life here in the caves must be a little better than living in the Z Zone. He was engaged on a normal educational project. They had enough to eat and drink. They had Terrestran credits. True they were poor, when poverty did not officially exist. They lived in the caves to save credits. Others chose caves only because they had an aversion to sunlight. Their caves were luxurious. This cave was sparsely furnished and rather shabby. It was home, though.

‘Look, I’ll show you what else I’ve found out about what caused the poison cloud in the first place,’ said Maria suddenly much brighter.

Then he had to spend an hour and a half looking at files his mother had found or created.

‘So, you see, it probably was our own fault, but only because we were trying to undo the harm that CFCs had caused two centuries before!’

If she was that clever then, why did they have to live down here in the caves?  Surely she should have been in the President’s Research Association?

Kaleem frowned.

‘Go on then,’ said Maria brightly. ‘I’m probably boring you silly! Go and get on with your own work, if you must!’

Kaleem’s dataserve seemed to be sitting there grinning defiantly.

‘Wordtext file downloaded,’ said the tinny voice smugly every few seconds. ‘Data not recognised’

‘You bet you don’t’ said Kaleem, frowning at the screen.

‘Unknown command,’ continued the electronic voice. ‘Please allocate file.’

Kaleem stared at the file. It really did not make sense.

‘Store in new section. Name Peace Child. Retain on screen,’ he said.

‘Valid,’ muttered the machine and then seconds later ‘Done!’

Kaleem read through the whole file. It took him an age, as he could not read fluently in Wordtext and so few of the words made sense. But here and there again Peace Child, and The Mother. What was a Peace Child? And why did she or he have a mother with a capital “m”?

He noticed that some words that seemed to occur a lot were always in the middle of the lines.

Must be words like “but” and “and”, thought Kaleem. But a few “buts” and “ands” didn’t really help him to understand more.

Instead, he conducted a One World Archive search on ‘Peace Child’.

‘Classified Hidden Information,’ screeched Tin Man. ‘Do not request again, or authorities will be informed.’

Even my own dataserve’s against me, thought Kaleem. So it will have to remain a mystery. It was already past midnight. He decided he ought to go to bed.

‘Have you ever heard of Peace Child?’ he asked Maria at breakfast the next morning.

She almost choked on her coffee. The little colour there was drained from her cheeks.

‘How on earth did you hear about that?’ she asked.

Something told Kaleem it would not be a good idea to tell his mother about the strange Wordtext file.

‘Oh, er… not sure really,’ he mumbled.

‘Kaleem!’ said Maria sternly. The colour came back into her cheeks. In fact, she went very red indeed. And she was sitting upright. ‘Do not go messing with Hidden Information. Believe me, it is not worth the agony.’

What was she doing? Telling him not to mess with this or that, and not telling him anything about where he came from, why he looked like he did and why they had to live down here in the caves, although she was obviously well-educated and intelligent. They were living on the edge. They may as well have been in the Z Zone.

‘It’d be worth looking at Hidden Information if it helped me to find out what caused this mess!’ Kaleem blurted out. How dare she be so superior and so goody goody! ‘What are you trying to hide anyway?’

‘Kaleem, I will not be spoken to like that,’ Maria said quietly. ‘Please give me the respect I deserve. And if you can’t,’ she continued in an even lower voice, ‘please go to your room until you have calmed down.’

Kaleem immediately regretted having spoken to her so harshly. She hadn’t retaliated. She hadn’t bitten back. She didn’t really deserve that, he knew.

‘Oh Mum, I’m sorry,’ said Kaleem. They were the best of friends normally. And yes he knew that she had her reasons for not telling him everything about why they had to live like this, and that she really made the best of it for both of them.

‘Ok,’ said Maria, ‘and I promise you that one day you will know everything, but only when I can see a clear way out of it. Until then,’ she continued staring now straight ahead  ‘what you don’t know, you can’t give away and that might keep both of us safe.’ She then turned and looked straight into Kaleem’s eyes. ‘Be careful,’ she whispered. ‘Be very, very careful.’

Kaleem was glad to get back to the peace of his own room. He would try to forget about the strange file, at least for a while, and perhaps get back to some of his assignment. Dive into the work and become fascinated again by the New Earth Project.

‘Voice file waiting,’   squeaked Tin Man, as he walked into his room.

Maybe I should change the voice, thought Kaleem. But then he thought better of that. The woman’s voice on these early dataserves was even more irritating.

‘Receive!’ he commanded. He supposed he’d better listen to this. It could be Pierre trying to get in touch. It was more likely to be some trivial message about the project. They were always being given useless information. Or it might be one of those idiots trying to have another go.

‘Kaleem, the cave-dweller,’ said a deep male voice, ‘we shall meet soon. You have already received the Peace Child document. It will not make sense for a while. Keep it safe. Iris protect. Shortly, you will understand. Say nothing to anyone. Not even your mother. We’re trusting you with this one.’

Nope, it was getting worse. His whole life up to now, and that of his mother a complete mystery, then the strange Wordtext document and now the mystical voice. Kaleem the cave dweller indeed! Perhaps that and the nonsense document were somebody’s idea of a joke. Well, he’d just have to see. Maybe one day even, he’d find out the answer to the biggest question of all: Kaleem Malkendy. Best get stuck into the project and forget it for a few hours.

Soon, he was doing just that. He looked at how Terrestra’s surface had been replanted since the disappearance of the Poison Cloud. He searched through movie clips which showed accelerated growth programmes. Then he listened to the psychological reports about how most people were avoiding the fresh air because it was unpredictable. Or was it because they had been so used to living underground, away from daylight? Something else began to suggest itself as he realised what he was actually doing; using a machine as a replacement for real life. Should that be the focus for his Special Project? It sounded good. He asked for the Project Proposal template.

‘Suggest break and use of fitness equipment,’ said Tin Man. ‘Otherwise user will become strained.’

‘Okay, Tinny,’ muttered Kaleem. ‘When I’ve listened to the form.’

‘Warning,’ started the machine. ‘User will…’

‘Override!’ sighed Kaleem.

Oh this is going to take a bit of thinking about, Kaleem said to himself as he started answering the questions on the sound form. A pain shot through his back and his shoulder cramped up. Maybe I will have a go on the jogging machine or the rower after all, he thought.

‘Standby,’ he said to the machine.

‘Voice file waiting,’ said the irritating device.

‘Okay, download,’ sighed Kaleem.

‘Urgent meet called for New Earth Project participants. Day 77. 13.30. Compulsory attendance.’

What a pain! Why were they having another meet so soon? It was ridiculous. He’d have to face that bunch of idiots again.

He heard Maria leave her workstation and make her way towards the kitchen. She was probably going to get the lunch. That sounded like an even better idea than the jogging machine. Maybe he should go and lend a hand, to show that he was really sorry about the way they had quarrelled earlier.

But then Tin Man spoke again.

‘Voice file waiting.’

‘Go on then!’ muttered Kaleem.

‘Command not understood,’ said the metallic voice.

‘Download,’ Kaleem said quickly through clenched teeth.

‘Command not…’ started the machine.

‘Download,’ said Kaleem as slowly and as clearly as his impatience would allow him.

‘So, you  have another meet with your project group?’ It was the same deep voice that had called him “cave dweller”. ‘Good! Things are moving faster than we thought. I shall see you after the meet. Nothing to worry about.’

No mysterious ‘cave-dweller’ this time, though someone was actually going to contact him. And there was the strangely urgent meet. Two meets in three days.

The fitness centre could be a good idea, after all. Kaleem started to change into his sports’ clothes.

‘Do you want to help me get lunch?’ called Maria. Kaleem pulled his tunic back on over his sports’ top.

The Propehcy Underground Chapter Four

Marijam stuffed four old ripon tunics into the overnight case. She picked up the pretty pearl and gold jewellery box her aunt had given her. That, with other bits and pieces her aunt and grandmother had given her might be more useful as currency in the Z Zone than Terrestra credits, until she managed to get a false credit account.

She had briefly also thought about trying to make her way to the Citadel, where the Elders lived. She had heard rumours that they could be kind, and they would often help Normal Zoners who got in to some sort of trouble. But she had no idea how to get there. That would have meant delving into even more of the Hidden Information. At least she knew where the Z Zone was. Somehow, she thought, that was just as well. She deserved the poverty of the Z Zone more than the luxury of the Citadel.

She obstinately refused to let Louish help her with the packing. She said she wanted to get her thoughts straight about the Northern Lights Project. Louish had been taken in.

Neither of her parents mentioned Gabrizan’s disappearance again, nor how pale she looked. Oddly enough, over the last day or two, the nausea had all but disappeared. Just a hint of it now and then. Perhaps it was the shock.

Well, she was dressed smartly enough for a science project interview. She was wearing a  newer, plain tunic. She washed her hair carefully and some of the shine came back. She didn’t look too bad in the mirror, even though she still felt completely drained.

Better keep up appearances, she told herself.

The pearl necklace her grandmother left her bought her some Hidden Information. If anyone found out, she would probably have to go to prison for the rest of her life. She shuddered when she thought of her meeting with the Ambassador, as he called himself. She would have sworn he was actually a Z Zoner, but one who spent an awful lot of time in the Normal Zones. He’d been so easy to find, too. Well, she’d known all along that some of the other kids in her social group sometimes accessed Hidden Information just for a bit of a laugh.

But it was nothing to laugh about. What she found out sickened her. She was almost grateful to the authorities for keeping that sort of information hidden. She had just two choices. She could give birth to the baby. That would be painful and could even kill her. Or she could get rid of it. That wouldn’t be all that pleasant either and was just as risky.

Both meant disappearing into the Z Zone. No-one in the Normal Zones would help with either. She would go there to get the help of the Z Zoners in delivering her baby, not in getting rid of it. It was Gabrizan’s baby. This would forever change her way of life and there would be no going back.

Marijam shivered as she thought of the Z Zone. She had found out more about it from the Hidden Information. She had already known that people who could no longer live in ordinary society were sent there. Until she’d got the Hidden Information, though, she had not known that Z Zoners did not have enough food, light and clothing. She had not realised that they had few dataserves and that any technology they did have was years out of date. The only concession they had to modern Terrestran life was a completely normal diastic system. The population there was getting thinner - maybe one day it would die out altogether. Would it though? she asked herself. Wouldn’t there always be misfits who needed hiding away?  She flinched as she remembered what she had found out about birth control in the Z Zone. They had a full Stopes programme going on there. Not even Z Zoners got pregnant these days. But they also rarely made it to the hundred years and switch-off. They didn’t die of illness. They became tired, literally worn out, or they starved. They did die, the old way, and the average age for death was forty-five.

Marijam bit her lip when she remembered what it had been like getting that Hidden Information. No wonder they kept all of this from normal people. It was horrific.

Marijam looked around the room which had been hers for as long as she could remember. She had just a little more space in her bag. What else should she take? Then she saw it. Another gift from her grandmother. Oma had given it to her on her switch-off day. It was a book, a children’s picture book. Most stories were told in super-four vision these days, but this antique was beautiful. She found it hard to decipher the old-fashioned text.  She knew the story off by heart, though, and she loved the pictures. She quickly flicked through the finely detailed paintings of the tower leading up to the sky. She loved the puzzled expressions of the people who found that they could not understand each other after they had tried to reach God.

Marijam heard her parents in the entrance hall to the apartment.

‘Are you coming?’ called Louish.

‘You go ahead, I’ll catch you up later,’ replied Marijam, trying not to let her voice tremble. It was really scary to think that she would never see her parents again.

The vacuum doors closed. Marijam stuffed the book into her bag. She took one last look around her room.

‘I’m sorry, Mum, Dad,’ she whispered.  She thought about what might happen to her father after she had left. Would they allow him to carry on as a service head, if he couldn’t even deal with his own daughter? Just as well that he didn’t know why she had left.

Then she too walked out of the apartment.

The lifts to the surface had long queues to them. People chatted excitedly and jostled one another to get to the front of the queue. They won’t half feel dizzy, thought Marijam, when that real air hits them.

She decided it would be easier to get to the Z Zone across the top. The tunnels were so complicated underground. Many of them were blocked where roofs had caved in. The authorities had decided not to repair them. They didn’t particularly want Z Zoners mixing with ordinary people.

I hope they’re not going to spoil everything, she thought. It wasn’t going to be the same with everyone else sharing the outdoors. Oh, it wasn’t going to be the same without Gabrizan.

The lift stopped. A door had been set into the tube which went across the surface. People streamed out. Marijam enjoyed for a few seconds the thrill of breathing real air. But she was used to it, unlike the people around her. They looked dazed. Some clung on to pieces of rock. Others sat down on the ground. One or two were taking great gulps of air. Some medical workers walked about.

‘Don’t breathe too fast,’ they advised. ‘Don’t stay more than ten minutes. You’re not used to the changing temperatures or the natural mix of air.’

‘Isn’t this something?’ Marijam heard one woman say. ‘I’m so glad it’s happened in our life time.’

‘It’s a miracle,’ replied the man at her side.

Marijam put her hand to her tummy. I suppose this is a miracle as well, she thought. Only I think I’m off miracles.

Someone suddenly tapped her arm. She jumped.

‘It’s amazing, isn’t it?’ said a too familiar voice.

Marijam turned to see Ponty Davidson. ‘Yes,’ she replied, ‘though it makes you feel funny, doesn’t it?’ I hope he can’t see I’m already used to it, she thought.

‘Will you walk a little way with me?’ asked Ponty. His breathing became shallow.

‘I, er I think,’ stammered Marijam. ‘I think I need to go back in. I’ve already been out quite a while.’

She walked away from him, back towards the opening in the tube. She stopped at the entrance and turned to see what he was doing. He staggered a little and one of the medical workers came up to him. She watched him sit down as two of the medics now spoke to him. Then, his head was down between his knees. It was safe for her to go now. He would not see her.

She set off again. She went behind Ponty and the two medical workers. He was recovering. She must hurry. She quickened her step.

‘Marijam,’ she heard Ponty call. ‘Where are you going?’

She pretended not to hear. She walked faster and faster until she was almost running. The ground became rougher. She would have to be careful. But she didn’t stop until she could no longer hear the crowds. She turned once more to look. No one was following and most people seemed to be making their way back to the open tube.

She sat on a rock at the side of what was left of the road. She took out the map she had got from the Hidden Information. This was scary, oh so scary. I need to go south she thought. She looked up at the sun. It was high in the sky and straight ahead. One of the old twenty-third century roads could still just about be seen.

Well, this is it, she thought. She lifted her bag on to her back. She couldn’t walk too quickly across Terrestra’s broken surface. Yes, she was following the old E723 Super Highway. There were bumps and cracks everywhere and places where there was no road left, only a patch of mud. Sometimes the road had caved in completely and Marijam had to climb in and out of a huge hole.

You never know, she thought. This might hurt the baby and then there might not be a problem anymore. Then she felt ashamed of thinking that. After all, this was Gabrizan’s child who was growing inside her.

A couple of times she sat down to rest. She was able to use the mini compu to tell her the direction. She knew, though, that soon she would be in the area which was not mapped by Standard Information.

Then one time she sat down and pressed the button on the mini compu. The screen was completely blank.

That’s it then, she thought. I’m on my own now.

The sun was beginning to set. Marijam studied the map again. The Logan cave must be another couple of kilometres from here. Then she would be in the Z Zone.

Marijam felt as if her heart and her stomach were chasing each other as she trudged along those last two kilometres. Once she went into that cave, there would be no going back. She could still change her mind now and go home. Explain everything to her parents. Surely her father would find a way out? No. It would ruin his career as well. Better this way.

It was completely dark by the time she arrived at the cave. A faint pink glow came from the entrance. Marijam could hear a soft noise. Was it their old mechanical machinery? Were they managing better now that the surface air was breathable again?

Marijam followed the tunnel which led down underground. She could see where the pink glow came from. The pathway was lit with strange burning lights. She supposed it was some sort of gas. There had been nothing about that in the Hidden Information.

It was cold in the caves. The ground was uneven, not like the solid floors of the normal zones. It was mainly made of dirt, with some bits of natural rock here and there. She suddenly remembered her first climb to the surface with Gabrizan. The path to the exit had been just like this. A pain that was almost physical shot through her as she thought of Gabrizan. Then something else happened. Her womb seemed to contract. Then there was a real pain.

I’m going to lose it, she thought. I shouldn’t have done this.

The pain stopped almost immediately. There was a strange tickling sort of feeling, like tummy butterflies, but a little lower down.

‘You’re moving,’ Marijam whispered as she put her hand over her stomach.  Gabrizan’s child was moving. So this had been the right thing to do.

The noise of the machinery grew louder. Marijam could also hear people’s voices. Her heart started crashing into her ribs now.

‘Sorry, baby,’ she muttered. ‘I don’t want to scare you, but I’m terrified.’

Marijam heard a sudden movement at the side of her.

‘Hey, what’s this then?’ a gritty voice rasped.

A gloomy figure stepped into Marijam’s path. The smell was the worst. She found it hard not to vomit again. This was what the unwashed must smell like, something she had never experienced before.

‘What do you want, then, little rich girl?’ snarled the man, wiping his hand on the dirty torn tunic.

A second figure came forward out of the shadows. This time it was a younger man. He was just as dirty as the first, and his brown tunic was made of the same rough looking material. But he didn’t seem to smell quite so much. His face looked a bit kinder too.

Marijam could not move. She wanted to run, but she could not get her legs to do what  she asked them. Even if they had moved, she knew she would not be able to get far. She was too tired.

‘Well?’ asked the first man, grabbing Marijam’s arm so hard that she could already feel the bruise forming. ‘Why have you come here? Running away from something are you?’

‘Look, I’ve got some things you can have,’ stammered Marijam, pointing to her bag which was beginning to slip from her shoulders, ‘if you’ll let me stay.’

‘Go on then, get it open!’ shouted the first man, pulling the bag away from her and gesturing to the younger man.

The younger man took the bag and began to empty its contents on to the cave floor.

‘You won’t be needing those here,’ commented the older man, as the younger one piled up the few tunics she had brought with her.

‘No, you’ll be much too cold,’ said the younger man more kindly.

‘That’ll do!’ cried the other man. He snatched the jewellery box.

‘Hey, wait a minute, Franck!’ cried the younger man.  ‘Take a look at this.’ He was holding the picture book. His rough hands were thumbing through the pictures.

‘My God!’ replied Franck. He also now started pawing at the book. ‘Does this mean…?’

The younger man nodded.

Marijam wanted to scream out to him to be careful. How dare such a brute touch her precious book.

Franck’ face was white and there were now beads of sweat on his forehead.

‘Do you really think this can have happened to us?’  asked the younger man.

Marijam didn’t have time to think what this might all be about. The two men quickly bundled her things back into her bag.

‘Ianus, we’ll have to get her to the wise woman,’ hissed Franck.

‘Well, we’d better get a kartje,’ replied Ianus. ‘We can’t risk  anything happening to  her. She looks exhausted already. We can’t expect her to walk any further.’

‘Right,’ said Frank. ‘You sit down there, Miss. Ianus will be back soon.’

The smell was still quite disgusting, but Marijam felt a bit more comfortable now. They seemed to think she was something special. Goodness knows what that was all about, but it was helping. And she was tired. Oh, so very tired. She closed her eyes. She could hear Franck breathing, but he didn’t seem inclined to say anything. When she opened her eyes again, he was staring at her and frowning slightly.

Ianus came back a few minutes later. Then Marijam realised what a kartje was. It was something from the last century. A type of small cart which hovered a few inches off the ground. She didn’t think there were any of those left.  And she thought they had been called carrels. But then, this was the Z Zone. Anything could happen.

Ianus helped her into the small vehicle.

‘You’ll still have to hold on,’ he warned. ‘It can only keep about twenty centimetres off the ground, so it still goes up and down a bit’

Franck climbed in behind them with her bag. Ianus moved the controls, and soon they were rushing forward a little above the ground. There were some uncomfortable twists and turns and quite a few jolts where the ground suddenly dipped away or rose up.

Occasionally they passed groups of people who were working with their hands or on old pieces of machinery. They all wore the rough-looking tunics and had the same leathery skin. Some of them stopped their work and stared at Marijam.

‘Watch out! We’re on important business,’ Franck would call.

Ianus frowned at him.

‘We ought to keep quiet about her really,’ he said. ‘Make out that she’s nothing special. See what the old one says first.’

Marijam was beginning to feel very sleepy. This place was cold and uncomfortable. The people looked rough and it was clear that life was very hard for them. She wouldn’t have chosen to live here if she’d really had any choice. The thought of giving birth actually terrified her. If only she could have told her parents what had happened, or, better still, Gabrizan.

But she was beginning to feel safe. These two rough men seemed to accept her, seemed to have been waiting for her, almost. She had no idea why they thought she was important. But whatever it was, it was just helping her to be accepted and she thought she ought to be grateful.

The kartje stopped in front of a doorway which seemed to lead into a natural cave.

‘Old woman!’ called Ianus.

The door of the cave opened slowly. A woman stood in the frame. Her silver hair hung loosely over her tunic, almost reaching her waist. She peered at Marijam, a slight frown on her forehead.

‘Ah,’ she said. ‘So you’re here. I see you have the Book. At last. Come, we have been expecting you.’

The old lady’s eyes pierced into hers. Marijam wanted to run away. But she knew that all she could do was follow the woman slowly towards the door. Ianus and Franck went to follow her. The old woman put out her hand up to stop them and shook her head. Ianus handed her Marijam’s bag.

Marijam shivered. But this time it was excitement, not fear.