The DollHouse

Chapter Nine

I don’t see Jules after placement the next day. We both have homework to do, and I think that, secretly, we both want a break from all of this. I imagine that Jules feels the same as I do, and wants a chance to pretend that there isn’t some sinister threat closing down on us, or at least a chance to pretend we might escape it.

When I get home, I grab Clay and we head into the jungle. I want to check out the ruin again. Since it seems as though most of the City’s Lessers are still diverted there, there must be something interesting going on. Now that I am paying attention I can recognise most of the Lessers at the Dollhouse, and I realise that I see them frequently around the City. If I’m perfectly honest with myself, the only reason I’m paying attention is because I find myself constantly searching for that Lesser that I keep running into. Something about that guy always turning up nearby has been making me curious, but now I can see that all of the Lessers in my area of the City are recognisable, popping up in different service areas, it’s just that I’ve only been taking notice of one of them.

Now that I am walking through the dense trees, with only the steady sounds of life around me - trees shifting, birds calling - I find myself relaxing for the first time since we overheard Katrina’s phone call. Out here, it all seems too surreal to worry about. That they would catch me now, not even from my test results, seems slightly absurd.

I reach the part of the ruin where I entered before and climb over. Clay launches up easily beside me. From the top I can see the quarry - a massive expanse of nothing where before there were beautiful temples and buildings. Now there is only a hole, and thousands of Lessers working inside.

I jump down quickly, not wanting to be seen so easily, and edge forward. There is a monument on the outskirts of the quarry that hasn’t yet been disturbed. I climb up the stairs and lay flat at the top, looking down at the workers. Clay lays down beside me, in stalker position, his tail swishing.

Even from here, you can see the Lessers are anything but docile. While years of shock therapy from their leg-bands has meant they are mostly conditioned out of violence, there is an instinctual aggression lingering that you can see if you watch them closely. I often find myself watching them closely as I try to convince myself that I am not like them. That I am not going to end up as one of them.

The Lessers closest to me are filling trucks with excavated rock. They hurl the rocks behind them onto the truck with little care to who is nearby. Further down the line, Lessers pass rocks to each other to save walking. I say pass, but it is more like a throw. I can almost hear the thump as several kilos of rock hurtles straight into someone’s chest. Or drops onto someone’s toe. With the Guards watching, they can do nothing about it, although as I watch several scuffles break out between the more aggressive ones. A clip over the head, a punch to the gut, quickly broken off before anyone can be stunned through their leg-band.

I don’t know whether it is the birds-eye perspective, or whether it is simply the fact that I am finally having a few moments to process the last couple of days in peace, but I slowly consider that there might be something worse than being caught out for cheating: becoming one of them.

I start to imagine really becoming a Lesser in more than just a test result. The anger, the bitterness. The lack of care for anyone or anything. A picture of myself down there in the line pops into my head, catching rocks and hurling them with the same ferocity I am witnessing. I know that if I was down there, I would be doing nothing different. I can feel the anger that would be coursing through me. Anger at the Guards, for their superiority and their trigger-happy fingers resting on their shock buttons. Anger at the other Lessers for being so weak as to accept their fate. Anger at myself for being nothing more than I expect from the rest of them. I know I would hurl those rocks with just as much anger and bitterness, and that when the Guards weren’t looking I would punch and kick and cut just as quickly.