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‘I don’t even know what ‘it’ is,’ I protested. ‘I don’t exactly have a lot to go on, here. What do you think?’
Pitr didn’t answer for a moment, then looked serious. When he did speak, it was very slowly. ‘If this for real, isn’t it a Duty?’
He voice sort of went up at the end, as though he was half asking a question, and I could hear the capital ‘D’. I sighed and rolled my eyes before I could stop myself. Pitr was all about Duty. He studied harder than just about anybody in school because it was ‘Duty’. He worked with his father to learn the job he would inherit, because it was ‘Duty’. If ever there was a judgement call about anything, Pitr always knew the ‘Duty’. Sometimes he could be way too serious about things.
‘I don’t know,’ I said, trying to steer him away from that thought. ‘If it was such a Duty why is it secret and all, and why is my dad so against it?’
Pitr thought about that for a while, but obviously came up with nothing and just shrugged. I pulled myself to my feet. There was no point hanging around here, and I would probably get told off for missing out on chores if we stayed much longer.
‘Let’s go back?’ I suggested. Pitr nodded and held out his hand for a pull up. As usual, I let him get half way then let go so he fell back, then I helped him up properly. We walked out of the tank room and back up to the living levels.
My dad wasn’t there when I got back to the house. Mum kept me fairly busy running errands and stuff, so the day sort of drifted away aimlessly and dinner caught me by surprise.
When dad got home, he went straight to mum and whispered something in her ear. She looked surprised, then nodded. I could tell she wasn’t happy about whatever had been said. She picked up her shawl and walked out of the apartment.
‘Sit down, Garret,’ said my father.
I took the chair opposite him, moving slowly and wondering what the heck I had done wrong now. He had his major serious face on; the one he used when someone, especially me, had really screwed something up.
‘Son, I want to talk to you about this morning.’
‘Honest, Dad, I - ’
He raised his hand and I shut up like he switched me off. ‘That’s not important, Garret. Not as important, at least, as what I want to discuss.’
He was all stiff and formal, like he was addressing a Gathering.
‘I want you to be careful around Jedd and Erish. I realise that they are our Historyuns, and you have been taught to treat them with respect and to consider their words as truth, but sometimes ... ’
He paused, and his eyes fell to the table before coming back up to look straight into mine.
‘Sometimes a man can see things that aren’t there. It might be because he is wishing for something good, or it might be because he is wishing for something to make him look important in the eyes of those around him. Our Stories are there to teach us, to guide us. To tell us how to tend to the machines, and to show us how important what we do is. But there are other stories that are not as ... practical. Do you understand what I am trying to say, son?’
I sort of did, but it sounded really bad to say it. ‘You mean some of the Stories aren’t true?’
That was shocking. I mean, the Stories were everything. We lived our lives by them, trusted them. They were never questioned. I had never even thought that anybody could tell a Story that wasn’t true.
Dad held up a hand. ‘No, I’m not saying they are untrue. I am suggesting that they could be mistaken. Or perhaps that an important point was missed when a story was passed from Master to Journeyman.’
That sounded just as bad to me. Just because the untruth was an accident, it didn’t stop the Story being untrue. If one Story was untrue, how could we trust any Story?
‘Let’s not worry too much about this point,’ said my dad. ‘All I am trying to say is that I want you to be careful. Think of it this way; whether this Story is true or not, it says that there have been four Historyuns who know people who have heard voices in the head. That means four people were sent ... ’ He cut himself off, harrumphed, and started again.
‘The issue is that if this important thing has already happened four times, then perhaps there is something wrong with it. We continue. We go on as we always have done. Whatever it is that the Story thinks so important, it doesn’t affect us. Nothing changes. We are all safe. And if we are all safe, why do we need someone to perform some heroic and mysterious task?’
He sighed, sat back in his chair and laced his hands over his stomach. ‘All I want you to do, Garret, is be careful. There are some people with wild ideas that could get you hurt, and your mother and I want you to stay away from anything like that. Can you do that for us?’
‘Of course,’ I lied. ‘Like I said, I think it was all just a bad dream anyway.’
‘Then let’s keep it as that and everything will die down.’ He took a breath, slapped his hands down on his thighs and pasted a smile onto his face. ‘Right. Shall we find your mother? I think it’s time to eat?’
I didn’t go out that night. I went to my room early saying I was tired, but I wanted to think. There a lot circling around in my mind again and, like the previous night, I took forever to calm down and go to sleep. I don’t know what time it was when I half woke, and felt the buzzing in my head.
‘Garret Barton Trent. The access code for maintenance panel J4, level 6, corridor A is 777gate142star.’
‘Why?’ I thought back. I hadn’t planned to, it had just come out. There was a pause.
‘Garret Barton Trent. You must pass through maintenance panel J4, level 6, corridor A. Communications are impaired. Further information is not available at this time. Further information will be available after you have passed through maintenance panel J4, level 6, corridor A.’
The hissing went away, and I was on my own again. Never having really woken up, I drifted straight back to sleep.
Next morning I got out of bed, ate my first-meal, and helped mum with chores for an hour before I even remembered I had spoken to the voice again or what it had said. I was sweeping out my room and I froze in the middle of a brush stroke. ‘Pass through’? Had the voice really said ‘pass through’? I dropped the broom and started to run; first to pick up Pitr, and then to find Jedd. Luckily, he was not with Master Erish. I just told him I had to talk to him, and to meet up with us in the small tank room as soon as he could.
He didn’t get there until a quarter hour after we did. Pitr had pumped me and prodded me to find out what was going on, but I wouldn’t tell him and he was starting to sulk. I was stalking back and forth, trying to bite my nails, when Jedd finally arrived. I rushed up to him before the door had finished closing.
‘The voice spoke to me again,’ I almost shouted.
‘Whoa.’ He replied, holding up his hands to take my upper arms and slow me down. ‘Take a breath, calm down, and tell me.’
I took the breath, but felt no calmer. ‘It said I had to go through the access panel,’ I blurted. ‘The one it keeps telling me about. It says I have to go through it.’
‘A hidden section? A part of a machine we haven’t visited before?’ Pitr said. His face went white and he shook his head. ‘Not Outside.’
I felt the warmth drain out of my face too. That was what I had been refusing to let myself think about. But it couldn’t be true. The very first Stories we were taught were that there was nothing beyond. There was nowhere else to go. But children made up their own stories, ones that you grew out of as you got older and realised that some things were just impossible; like monsters in the dark, and Outside. We both turned to look at Jedd. He looked thoughtful, and said nothing until he had led us back to where we had been sitting the day before. When we were all settled, he finally spoke.
‘Boys, this is really difficult for me. I’m sworn not to pass on to anybody things I have been told about this.’
I wasn’t too pleased about him calling me ‘boy’, and I was getting tired of all the evasions. He had already told us as much.
‘It’s my head this voice is in,’ I snapped. ‘How can it be wrong to tell me anything?’
Jedd raised his hands defensively. ‘I didn’t make the rules, and I’m breaking them now.’
I settled back in my made-up seat, still scowling.
‘You are being asked to go on a journey,’ said Jedd.
‘Outside?’ Pitr interrupted, his voice squeaking.
‘Define ‘outside’,’ said Jedd, with a shrug.
‘There isn’t an outside,’ argued Pitr.
‘Then it’s just a bit of the world we don’t usually have access to,’ said Jedd.
‘You just made that up,’ said Pitr, pointing an accusing finger.
‘That’s because you’re asking me to define something I don’t really know anything about,’ said Jedd. ‘All I know is that it is a journey. It is a journey to meet someone, who will tell you more when you get to them.’
‘Who?’ I asked.
‘Again, I don’t know. All I know is that of those that have gone before you, nothing was ever heard again.’
‘They died?’ Pitr gasped, and I started to get annoyed about him interrupting all the time. After all, this was about me, wasn’t it?
‘Again, not what I said,’ Jedd replied, and his tone hinted he was starting to get annoyed too. ‘They just never came back.’
‘And why me?’ I asked.
‘Ask whoever it is you meet,’ said Jedd.
‘OK, why not me? Why are my dad and the other’s so upset about this.’
‘I think who you are, and how young you are, might be a part of their reluctance. And if you say anything about wanting to do what this voice is telling you, your father will do everything he can to stop you.’
That surprised me for a moment, but then my dad probably could get mad enough to make it so I couldn’t go. But did I want to? I mean, it felt better that the voice was supposed to be there – sort of – but it was still scary, and hugely weird.
I couldn’t stop thinking that I was being asked to go somewhere. Somewhere other than the six levels. Somewhere that wasn’t lit with fading lights and the constant smell of the recycling plants, or the vibration of the compressing engine. Somewhere else.
I stood up. ‘I’m going for a walk,’ I said.
‘Are you all right?’ Jedd asked.
I shook my head. ‘Sort of. Not really.’
I walked away and out through the door of the tank room. Then I just wandered. I don’t really know how long for, and I’m not sure what I was thinking about while I did it, but I wasn’t really surprised when I found myself sitting at the bottom of a stairway, staring at double doors and a sign that said ‘Level 6’.
I had never been this far down before. It wasn’t exactly forbidden, but at the same time, it wasn’t really somewhere you were supposed to go messing around. When I was little, there were stories about monsters that ate children or captured them and kept them in cages on level 6. Looking at the short corridor, even more dimly lit than the levels above, I could feel the monsters hiding behind the doors and waiting to catch me.