Wildlings

5: Alien Life Forms

Judit leaned her head against the window. She was surprised how plastic and flimsy it was. She'd never been on an airplane before. There were tiny stars of frost right inside it, between the panes. Did that mean it was broken? Was there a malfunction, and she was going to die after all? Ridiculous to be scared for her life, when her life was effectively over. It would probably be a blessing to die, before they could start experimenting on her.

She thought about Sannah, and anger exploded in her chest like an aerosol thrown on a fire. An image of her sister appeared in Judit's mind, and she directed all her vitriol at it. I hate her.

She hated the tense, ungainly way Sannah moved, like she was all mind, her body just an afterthought. She hated the way Sannah always wore a coat, even today, when it was hot as a dagging furnace. She hated how she always told her what to do, how she was ruining her life, but then this.

Tears squeezed into Judit's eyes, and the hateful image of Sannah wavered, a succession of others taking its place. Sannah, clutching Judit to her chest when she cried about Mum. Opening her groggy eyes in that hospital, Sannah the first thing she saw. The sweet smell of Sannah's hair, curled up in bed next to her, on those first nights in Birchwood.

Was she ever going to see her again? A low moan blistered in Judit's throat. The pain of that thought was literally unbearable. She pushed it away violently, far, far away, where she would never, ever have to feel it again.

Judit tensed her whole body in an effort to stop herself crying. The posh guy was right there, and he could still go and tell the Head, and then she'd get methy'd. Though maybe she should. She could cry on purpose, get sent back. Maybe methy would be better than whatever this was going to be. She swallowed, and her ears popped.

"Here you go." Posho leaned over her seat, passed her a plastic glass with clear liquid in it. Water. "Have a drink, it might help you feel better." His tone of voice suggested she was some sort of invalid.

She took the glass with a shaking hand, spilling it on her leg, and sipped some. It did actually make her feel better. Her head was pounding like a jackhammer from all that crying.

The seatbelt light dinged on, and Posho buckled himself in. The plane was only partially full, all dull-looking old people in business suits, and Posho left a seat empty between himself and Judit rather than sitting right next to her. He took out his screen. He didn't look at her, but it was very purposeful, like he was trying to give her some privacy. Judit could sense in his movements that he was acutely aware of her presence.

"Just let me know if you want anything," he said, without looking up from his screen. There was a white page on it, black text, like he was reading a book. "Even just...to talk. If it would make you feel better."

Judit didn't reply, just stared out of the window. She couldn't see anything except clouds. They looked so strange, close up. Like they were solid. She was sure if she stepped out, she could walk on them. She couldn't, of course. She'd fall to her death. Splat on concrete, maybe someone's car. A flat wet body in some unknown part of the city.

"Is it going to hurt?" She said quietly, after a while. "Any of it? The experiment. Will it hurt me?" She didn't recognise her own voice.

Posho looked up from his screen, surprised. "No. No, of course not. It's going to be wonderful." He obviously registered the doubt on her face, because he nodded sincerely, and said, "I promise."

Judit started crying again, her breath coming out in weird, noisy brays. If she'd had any wits, she'd have been mortified.

"It's okay," he said, gently. "A change is always a shock, no matter how positive it is. If you want to talk..." He leaned over and touched her arm.

Judit jumped like she'd been zapped. She wasn't used to casual physical contact. Their mum had never been tactile, so they weren't either.

"Sorry," he said, withdrawing his hand.

She shook her head, sniffing back her watery snot. Her head felt like roadworks. As if he read her mind, Posho reached into the bag by his feet and handed her a dimple-pack of painkillers.

Judit took them and said, "Thanks." It was more of a cough than a word. She swallowed the tablets awkwardly. "It's a lot to take in," she said after a while.

"It sure is," he replied.

***

"Judit. Judit."

Judit awoke with a jerk. Her headache was gone, and there was a wet patch on her shoulder where she'd dribbled. She'd been having this dream about Dek, hijacking the plane and saving her, and it felt totally true, realer than reality. It wasn't.

Posho was leaning towards her, repeating her name gently. He smelt like expensive shops and citrus. He's so clean, Judit thought. It was so different from anyone she knew. They all smelled of musty clothes that hadn't dried properly—not that she disliked that. This guy just felt inhuman, a different species.

"We're nearly there," he said when he saw that she was awake. "If you look out of the window, you'll see the forest."

Judit swallowed, her mouth dry and furry, and turned towards the window. The plane was on its descent and the clouds formed then broke, formed then broke. Whenever they passed through one she got a hint of the land below them. It looked amazing, so small and so delicate. She could see tiny cars glinting on the roads, the sun reflecting off the windows of tiny houses. She felt like her perspective had been just slightly off all her life, that for the first time ever she was seeing what things for what they really were.

The plane dipped and circled to the right, and Judit gasped as it came into view. The forest.

There was a wide expanse of bare earth, its brown uniform against the scrappy buildings. Tiny yellow diggers moved mechanically about it, their tracks looping like handwriting. But beyond that, beyond that...

Trees. She'd never seen so many of them. They didn't even have street trees in Birchwood, despite the name. She could probably count how many she'd seen in her whole life on one hand. But this...this was different. It wasn't trees, plural. It was trees, singular. A huge, breathing, terrifying entity, all one thing, covering the land like fur. So green. The greenest thing she'd ever seen. She couldn't quite process it. It looked utterly alien.

"Skitting hell," she breathed.

"The Caledian forest," Posho said from behind her. His voice was full of awe. "Isn't it astounding? Welcome to your new home."