| |
When I got to the tank room I saw a big spanner with a long handle. I wanted to use it to smash at something, and my eyes fell on a cluster of valves and pipes. I had even drawn the spanner back over my head before I came to my senses. Damaging the equipment was the only crime we had with the death penalty, and I had no desire to be Tanked. I swung the spanner at the ground instead.
I cursed and nursed my stinging hands under my armpits as the spanner fell back to the ground with a clang. Somebody behind me laughed and I spun around to see Pitr near the doorway, his arms crossed over his belly and taking great delight in my discomfort. I felt a flash of anger, but then it drained away. I guess it must have looked funny, but I wasn’t laughing.
Pitr came over and picked up the spanner from where I had dropped it. There was a little crater in the floor. He didn’t say anything, but put the spanner on a nearby shelf. ‘Come on,’ he said, and headed off towards silo 6.
We climbed back onto our plastic couches, crackling and scrunching as we settled. Pitr hadn’t spoken since he put the spanner away. I was grateful for that. My heart was still hammering and I still tingled - not from the spanner, but from feeling so angry.
‘Did you have another fight with your dad?’
He spoke quietly, and I could only just hear him over the soft rumble of the machines. I nodded, though he might not have seen me in the dim light
‘Mate, you have got to stop doing that,’ he said
I actually turned to look at him, I was so surprised. I had been expecting some support. ‘Teenagers Against Parents United’, or some such. I wasn’t expecting to be told I was wrong.
‘Huh?’ was as eloquent as I could manage.
‘I know he’s your father and all, but he is still The Boss. Of all of us and everything.’
‘Yes, but - ’
‘What ‘but’? We all have a job to do, a Duty, and his job is making sure we all do it. Must be pretty tough.’
I bit off a snarly reply and thought about it for a minute. I was still feeling really upset, but had to admit that Pitr might have a point. Maybe.
‘How can it be so tough if we are just doing the same thing? What does anybody ever do except look after these machines? Everything smells bad here, and we can see things are falling apart. Almost every other light panel is dead, and even the big stuff is dying. What about Reclamation Tank 4, and the pumps? They say they failed fifty years ago. And when was the last time anybody saw a maintenance ‘bot’? Maybe five years? When we were kids a bot crew came back to the servicing pen every six months or so.’
‘All the more reason to support your father? Help him.’
‘You sound like an adult,’ I said, and even to myself I sounded petulant.
Pitr didn’t say anything for a while. I guess maybe I had upset him, but then he shouldn’t have preached at me. Pitr was my best friend, but sometimes he seemed really stuffy, and as mad about ‘Duty’ as the rest of them.
‘Is this a ‘voices in your head’ thing, Garret?’
‘Voice,’ I corrected. ‘And no. Well, maybe. I’m not sure.’
‘You have to talk to someone about it.’
‘Like I said, who?’
‘Whoever,’ Pitr snapped back, surprising me. ‘If it’s real, it’s an issue, one way or the other. If it’s not real ... ’
He left it hanging in the air, but I got his point. Was I maybe making this up? I didn’t think so, and why would I?
‘Seriously,’ I said. ‘Who? Who would you tell?’
Again, there was nothing but gurgling pipes and muttering machines. I was just thinking that maybe I had scored a point and Pitr couldn’t think of anyone either when he snapped his fingers.
‘Jedd.’