Wildlings

3: Faultlines

Judit stood snivelling at the door to the Head's office. She'd managed to avoid crying until she hit the student-free administration block, but couldn't keep it in any longer. All she could think about was Archi.

She tried not to picture that photo, but it was imprinted on her retinas like a brand. Low resolution, a screen-snap zoomed in. One of the kids musta taken it over the shoulders of the police.

They'd found him hanging from a rafter in the changing rooms. It had taken days, apparently. The school didn't do sports—too expensive.

Did it hurt, when they methy'd you? Did you know what was going on, or was it oblivion? She liked to think the latter, but if so, why would Archi do that to himself?

Other kids had been methy'd too, of course. One a year it tended to be. Fear as crowd control. But he was the only one that...The others just walked among them—smiling, wrong.

Judit couldn't bring herself to knock. They must've seen her on the CCTV though, cos someone opened the door. It was a harried looking woman, squat, with hair like a triangle. She radiated stress.

"Judit MaVae?" Triangle scowled. "Come in then."

Judit had spent the rush over concocting an excuse for missing Geography, which was the only possible reason why she could be in trouble.

She began to launch into a sob-broken narrative about a surprise heavy period and a rush to the chemist's, but the woman interrupted her. "She's here," she said into an intercom, then turned to glare angrily at Judit.

A wave of fear washed over Judit, leaving her seasick and struggling to breathe.

Another door opened, and the Head came in. He was short too, his suit creased. He looked different in real life than he did on their screens, delivering his weekly missives on obeying authority. Older, more crumpled.

Judit stood, her eyes fixed on the waxy pouches beneath his eyes. She felt like her stomach was filled with cement. Why wasn't Sannah here? She just wanted Sannah to come, make it all stop. Where was she?

"Miss MaVae." He sounded annoyed. "There's been an administrative error." He glared at Triangle. "We'll have to work around it. Dr. Coale is waiting, so you need to look sharp."

A doctor. It was methy.

Judit's face collapsed. "I haven't done anything. Please–"

"Pull yourself together, young lady," the Head snapped. "I will not have you embarrassing me in front of someone from Sherbourne University."

"It was my period," Judit gulped through her tears. She had to keep talking, show him they didn't need to kill her defiant brain. "I'll never skip again. Please don't methy me."

The Head turned towards the office door, as if worried about something behind it, then back to the sobbing Judit. "Stop that right now. You're not here for behaviour modification, but if you carry on like this in front of Dr. Coale I'm afraid that will be my only option. Do you understand?"

Judit understood enough to know her crying was linked to getting methy'd. She tried to stop. It was really skitting difficult though, and now she was hyperventilating.

"You've been selected for an experiment at Sherbourne University. It's a great honour for somebody like you. There's no need for this ridiculous display," the Head snapped. "Pull yourself together. You will be polite and enthusiastic with Dr. Coale, or there will be consequences. Do you hear?"

Judit nodded, as politely and enthusiastically as she could, gulping her tears into flat tremors. It would be impossible to be less fit than she was now, but she didn't care. She'd lick between the Head's toes if it meant not getting methy'd. He did say she wasn't going to get methy'd, right? As long as she didn't cry.