10. A Clear Path

  ‘AND THEN I found myself out walking. Just aimlessly strolling. Out in the bamboo grove. I didn’t want to stray too far from the house. It was cold. I didn’t have my nightie on. I thought the bamboo would offer me some shelter. But when I looked up I saw all those tall swaying lines converging on the sky. Pointing towards it. The sky itself was overcast. And then I was rushing up into it. Along those lines. Into that sky. I hadn’t wanted to go. Something took me. Something plucked me from my safety amid the bamboo and whooshed me into the air. But it was all wrong. I hadn’t requested a transfer. I wasn’t wearing the proper clothes. I wasn’t wearing anything at all. And here I was now moving through cloud at this incredible speed. I was a sort of mist. The cloud clung to me. It tried to hold me to itself. It tried to tear me away from myself. But I was travelling too fast. I had already travelled thousands of miles. I couldn’t see anything below me. It was hazy. Very dark. A sort of fuzzy dimness. But I had a strong sense of there being water. Somewhere far below me. A huge expanse. Limitless. I began to fear that as a cloud I’d be dropped into it. Precipitated into it. That I’d be tossed naked into the middle of that black ocean and it would suck me all the way under. But I was going too fast even for the water. For all those sucking depths of water. Though the land when it came would be worse. And now I felt something pushing me downwards. I wasn’t falling. I was being forced. Forced right out of the sky. And all over the earth were spots of red. Tiny red pinpricks. I was being hurled now towards one of them. One small red painted circle on dusty concrete beside some big metal wheelie bins. It was on an industrial estate. I could see all the buildings growing suddenly very large and I could pick out the details of the wheelie bins and the tall wire fences and the silent machinery. But the red spot itself didn’t grow. It remained fixed. It glistened. Whatever was throwing me out of the sky was trying to get me in that small circle. Like a high diver into a bucket. And it stung. It really stung as I smacked into the middle of that circle. All my organs jarred with the force of it. I could feel them yanked suddenly downwards within me. It made me feel really sick. I felt so sick and I couldn’t move. Not with the fresh weight of myself. My unclouded self. My naked self. I had no idea where I was. Some huge business complex in some foreign land. Round the front of the buildings others would be arriving and going inside for their conference. But here I was still out in the rear lot. Cramped within my small red circle. It was raining. I was crying. Everything was wet. But I knew I had to get out of that circle quick because someone else would be wanting to use it and they’d crash right on top of me. They’d appear in the same tight space and they’d mingle with me. It took all my effort to get clear. I was crawling so slowly. Painfully slow. Like I was trying to command someone else’s body to move by thought alone and I could hardly feel that other body as I could hardly feel myself. And all the time I had the fear of the other’s arrival. It terrified me. It urged me onward. But once I was clear I was fine. Once my last toe was dragged out of that circle my own strength returned to me. Just like that. I felt real again. New. Even the rain didn’t bother me. It was warm. Like showering. Though I couldn’t linger. I had to get going or else I’d be late for the conference. But just as I began walking away I heard a squeaking and bumping and rolling from behind me. Turning around I saw that one of the big metal wheelie bins was moving. Four small boys were pushing it. Wheeling it creakily forward. They had painted it red. The very same glistening blood-red paint as the circle. And they were laughing. Snickering to each other. So I called out to them. Hey! I was really angry. I could feel the anger surging hot inside me. I was naked in the rain in a strange land but I didn’t care. That anger was rising. It was getting nearer. It was about to explode in front of me. And these small snickering boys were pushing the wheelie bin right onto the circle. And I felt in that moment how someone else was surely on their way. This other person was hurtling in through the clouds having travelled for thousands of miles. Very soon they’d be here. And they’d collide with the bin. They’d be forced to occupy the same space as the bin. I shouted again. Hey! You can’t do that. That’s really dangerous. That’s illegal. But the boys merely snickered and chattered and yelped with delight. They called back. It’s only a joke. It’s just for fun. They buoyed each other with their laughter. No. I moved closer to them. It’s not a joke. Someone could really get hurt. You need to move it right now. They stepped back as I stepped forward. Oh no no no. You’re wrong. You’re quite wrong there. We don’t need to do anything. They were careful to stay out of reach. And still that other person was getting nearer. Someone just like me was rapidly approaching. I was fuming. The rain steamed as it struck my skin. The boys were terrified as I loomed towards them. They feared my awful nakedness. I was going to grab them and clutch them and squeeze them into understanding just how serious this was. I’ll report you to the authorities. You’ll all be put in jail. I can arrest you. Right here. A citizen’s arrest. What are your names? Tell me where you live! And they cowered. They looked at the sky behind me and they trembled. Because something was coming in fast. Something was very nearly here. And now the boys realised. Now they understood. But all too late. For nothing could be done any more. And when this something arrived there was a tearing and a screaming. A hollow metallic wailing filled the air. The boys scurried off in a panic. But I turned. I spun round. And I saw the glistening red wheelie bin had merged with another traveller. She was trapped inside it. She was bashing and pounding its walls from within. And the wheelie bin shuddered and wobbled and boomed. But the traveller couldn’t get out. She was trying to breathe inside it with all the rubbish of the world choking her. She was so frightened. But I wasn’t frightened. In that moment all the fear and anger had gone from me. I was so calm I was unable to move. I could only stand and stare with my arms limp by my sides. Then the traveller too stopped moving. She stopped wailing and booming. All the strength had gone out of her. All the life had gone out of her. And it was very quiet inside the bin. It was all so dark and cramped. Death felt very cramped and lonely. Everyone had run away. No one cared that I was even there. No one knew. I didn’t matter any more. I had never mattered. And I could hear the sound of the rain on the lid of the wheelie bin. And I could hear my own slow breath and feel my own thick heartbeat. But inside I was calm. Death itself felt very calm.’

  ¶

  Trisha’s hands were tight round her coffee mug. She was leaning forward over it, her morning tangle of red hair in a curtain around it as she stared into its dreggy emptiness. Now she relaxed a little, and leant back in her chair, and brushed her hair away as she looked up.

  ‘Is it—anything like that?’

  On the opposite side of the table sat Shui-Lin, busily buttering a second crumpet while still finishing the first and sipping at moments from her own small cup of coffee. Her hair was in similar morning disarray, its short scruffy blackness sticking out at angles from where it had scrunched against her pillow. She shook her head in response to the question, making through her mouthful a vaguely negative sound.

  Trisha frowned. ‘What, not at all?’

  ‘Not really.’ Shui-Lin swallowed forcefully. ‘No. You see, you don’t have much of a sense of it, actually. A bit of dizziness, maybe. Like a swirl. Like standing too fast. You know? It takes the mind a moment to adjust to its new surroundings. That’s all. I try to shut my eyes. It makes it a bit easier. But you can’t always do it in time. It’s just so fast. See?’

  ‘What about the bins though? That bit really scared me. Don’t you find that scary?’

  Shui-Lin stood up, the last curl of crumpet poking from the side of her mouth. She carried her plate and cup to the sink and slid them into the soapy water. She shook her head again.

  ‘Couldn’t happen. You can’t just block a red site like that. The satellites would detect it. And there are other sensors too. They’d know somehow. Something would pick it up. And then the transfer wouldn’t take place.’

  ‘But what about in the final moments? If there was a blockage in those last few tiny—’

  The question was interrupted by Shui-Lin’s laughter.

  ‘Trisha. It happens so so fast. Just a split second. You know? Like, really fast.’ She shrugged, smiling. ‘There’s just no possible way it—’

  But Trisha wasn’t smiling. She sat sullenly, gazing down once more into her empty coffee mug.

  Shui-Lin came to stand beside her, putting her hands lightly on Trisha’s head. And Trisha let her head flop sideways against Shui-Lin, allowing herself to be held, to be stroked.

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—Are you okay? I’m sure it must have been scary. It did sound pretty bad. And I am sorry you had to go through it. But it really was just your imagination. You know that, right? Just your old fears making the most of themselves while you slept.’

  Trisha’s eyes were wet. ‘It was just so very real. And I hate it. I hate that you do it. You go through it every day, like it’s nothing. And I know, I do know. You have to. I get that. But I hate it. And I wish you didn’t have to. I wish no one did. I wish—’ She went quiet.

  A moment’s pause and Shui-Lin took up from where Trisha had left off.

  ‘You wish you could go back?’ She felt the head move very slightly beneath her hands. ‘I know. It’s alright.’

  Trisha looked up suddenly, her eyes wide. ‘I don’t mean go back home. I hope you don’t think that. That’s not what I meant. Because—I can’t anyway. Not any more. And I really am happy here. I’d never even want to leave. I only mean—’

  ‘Yes, I know. It’s okay.’

  The hair stroking was resumed for a while in silence. Then Shui-Lin patted Trisha gently, decisively, and moved away.

  ‘But I really do need to get ready now. You’ll be okay, right? Have something to eat. You really should. You’ll feel much better.’

  Trisha nodded weakly. Shui-Lin hurried off upstairs.

  ¶

  The shower was very hot. It steamed, filling the small space behind the white shower curtain. Shui-Lin stood motionless beneath the spray, her eyes shut. She took in the heat, feeling her blood rise to the surface of her skin, feeling it strain to release all that new energy.

  She heard the bathroom door open. She felt the wash of air and the space around her enlarging momentarily, then the gentle tap of plastic touching plastic, and the creak of one thing taking another’s weight.

  ‘You really are pathetic.’ Shui-Lin opened her eyes, squinting beneath the spray. ‘Can’t you leave me be for even one second?’

  ‘I know, I know. But I needed to go. And then, also, I was just thinking—’

  Shui-Lin sighed and began soaping the stiff bristles of her wash brush. ‘I think you do a little too much thinking. I think that’s part of the problem. But go on, tell me anyway. Tell me about this thinking.’

  The voice beyond the shower curtain began at once.

  ‘I was thinking how it’s still so easy to remember the old days. You know? Even though that was like twenty years ago or something. And I know it’s kind of cliché to say everything was simpler then, but it’s true, isn’t it? Everything was. The cable system was so much simpler. So much less of a fuss. I even remember the public booths. Always making sure you carried a few coins in your pocket to pay the fare. I was only a girl but I still remember it all. And all so clearly. Don’t you?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘You knew where you were then. You bought your ticket, you got in the booth, and you were away. It was solid. It was fixed. It was a one-off payment.’

  ‘And it was expensive.’

  ‘Sure, of course. It had to be. But you knew that and you accepted it. And you didn’t have to use it if you—well, if you didn’t have to. But now. What do we have now? When did you last even buy a ticket?’

  ‘Actually, I made a payment only a week or so ago.’

  ‘Oh, sure, for a subscription, to continue the service. But that’s not really a ticket. It’s not the same thing.’

  ‘It’s kind of the same. Like a season ticket.’

  ‘But one that never ends. Just renewed, renewed, renewed. You’ll never not be paying for it. No one will. It just goes on and on forever.’

  Shui-Lin shut off the water and reached for her towel as she stepped out over the high lip of the bath.

  ‘I’m not sure I see the difference, Trish. What exactly are you getting at?’

  ‘Well, don’t you miss it? Not being tied in? Not being so chained to the rest of the world? Having options? Having control?’

  ‘I have plenty of options.’

  ‘Yeah, right. For your desired level of service, maybe. For upgrades. For add-ons.’

  ‘Yup.’ Shui-Lin rubbed her short scruffy hair dry. ‘And I like it that way. Maybe you liked the reassurance of a ticket. But this way I’m in control. I choose how I want to use the service. And it is indeed a service. And I do use it. Every day. I get exactly what I pay for.’

  ‘No. Not that. I mean, you actually have to. You see? You don’t get a choice. Not a real choice.’

  ‘Well, that’s just life. I have to work. I have to get to work. How would things be if I didn’t? We all have to get—’

  Trisha glared at her.

  Shui-Lin stopped for a moment. ‘I’m sorry. I wasn’t meaning that. You know I didn’t mean that. I’m—’ She nodded to the door. ‘I’m going to go and get dressed now. I shall be exiting the bathroom. So, do you think you’ll be okay in here? For a little while? All on your ownsome?’

  Trisha gave no reply.

  ¶

  In her bedroom Shui-Lin paused in front of her open wardrobe.

  ‘Upgrades, huh?’

  She stared at the options available. There were many. She could afford a great many. Tops and bottoms and gloves and shoes. They were good designs. They were stylish. She could mix and match. And they were barely distinguishable from how things used to be. The detailing was getting better and better with each new range released.

  ‘No different from wearing an old suit. Not really. Just the standard acceptable attire. And if everybody else wears the same, or mostly the same, then—’

  She made her selection, a forest-green jacket and black slacks. Except these were just the outer layers. The inner parts were the same with all combinations: a dark glossy skin-tight fabric that covered her body right up to the throat. She drew herself into the one part then fixed the other over the top, fastening each garment to the next with discreet wires so that everything she wore was linked up as one continuous unit. Even the short boots she pulled on had to be connected to the rest.

  From her jacket pocket she drew a slim black box. She checked the readout. Three diodes were lit amber, but two were blinking red for gloves and hood. That was okay. She wouldn’t put those on till she was fully ready to go.

  Trisha came in and flopped onto the bed.

  ‘I’m so bored.’ She eyed Shui-Lin surreptitiously. ‘So so so—bored.’

  ‘No, you’re not.’ Shui-Lin didn’t look back at her. She lifted two small rucksacks from the wardrobe, weighty for their size, one in navy blue, the other mauve. Both were made of the same coarsely woven fabric as the jacket and slacks, with the same gold-rimmed connector points, and fine colour-matched wires leading out from each of them. ‘And don’t think I’m calling in sick. Not for your sake. There’s a meeting this afternoon. It’s important. They’ve asked me to be present.’