Greta awoke feeling rested and happy, warm and comfortable in bed. She didn't open her eyes at once, because she was trying to hold on to the wonderful dream she'd been having, hoping she might return to it. What was the dream about? She couldn't remember anything at all about it now. Not a single detail, just a feeling of perfect calm and contentment.
She could hear birds all around, the morning chorus. It must be morning. She half opened her eyes. The morning sun was streaming through the green forest canopy above her. She lay a while, half dozing, gazing up at the trees through half closed eyes, listening to the sound of birdsong.
Greta always loved to listen to all the birds calling to each other from different parts of the forest, a wild, musical conversation in full surround sound. She opened her eyes and looked around. Next to a huge, ancient oak tree, just beyond the clearing where Greta lay, a deer was watching her. Greta didn't want to startle the deer, so she lay very still, gazing back at the beautiful creature.
As Greta lay there, the events of the previous days began to return to her.
Her mum's birthday surprise to her, the revelation the she had a twin sister in the city.. her journey, alone through the forest..
Was that a dream? Had it really happened? What had happened next..?
..arriving at Shopping Village.. meeting Jerry and Queenie.. coming to the city.. hiding in the cart, trying to evade O..
Where was she? What was she doing there? How did she get there? What was this place?
.. trying to evade O .. failing.. getting caught..
Then what..?
Greta sat bolt upright in bed, looking around in panic. Startled, the deer turned and ran off into the forest, kicking up leaves as she ran.
Greta looked down. She was in a bed. A comfortable bed with clean, white sheets. Around the bed, an oval of smooth, white floor.. beyond that, dense forest in every direction. On the left side of the bed, a white bedside cabinet with a glass of water on it. On the right side, an armchair, smooth, white and curved, moulded from some composite material. On the armchair was her dusty old knapsack, looking incongruous, worn out and out of place on such a modern piece of furniture. On top of her travelling bag, neatly folded, were the clothes she'd been wearing when she'd..
.. infiltrated the Green Zone using an illicit jamming device .. run away from a robot dog.. then thrown a bowl of spaghetti at it.. then smashed another robot's head in with a frying pan.. then set fire to a restaurant..
It was all coming back to her now.
With a feeling of dread and a wildly beating heart, Greta surveyed the forest around her. She didn't know where she was.. but still, it was the forest and she knew how to survive in the forest better than anywhere else. Maybe she should make a run for it now, while there was no one around. She could figure out where she was and how to get home later. The first thing was to get away from O. She'd stand a better chance hiding in the forest. She was bound to be in a lot of trouble after what she'd done. There was no telling what O might do to her..
.. or what O might have already done ..
Greta lifted the sheets to find that she was wearing clean, white pyjamas, loosely fitting, made of some very light and very soft material, like the finest of silk. Her eyes darted around. Was she being watched? Was this some kind of trap? Of course it was! It must be. But what kind?
Greta swung her legs out of bed and pulled on her trousers and shirt over the pyjamas. She needed to make a quick getaway. Maybe the robots were just on a break, or dealing with another prisoner and would be back any minute to..
.. do whatever they were going to do to her ..
Like a hunted animal, she looked around furtively, her eyes scanning the forest in every direction. She felt into the pocket of her trousers and was amazed to find that the magic marble was still there.. the device Techno Terry had given her, a kind of 3D compass which always pointed to her sister. She pulled it out and looked at it. It was pointing straight up. She looked up. There was the green, forest canopy above her, with the pale blue of the morning sky beyond. High above, a flock of birds were gliding by. She looked at the magic marble again. It was definitely pointing straight up. What did it mean? She could figure it out later. The main thing now was to get away into the forest and find a place to hide.
She put on her hat and looked for her woollen shawl. It wasn't with the other folded up clothes. Rummaging around in her bag, it wasn't there either. Neither was the cake Granny Mae had given her. That was strange. Greta regretted not giving the whole cake to Sally, when she could have done. In that moment, Greta regretted a lot of things, but she didn't have time to dwell on them. She'd have to forget the shawl, even though it was very special to her, having been made especially for her by Jeannie the weaver. Jeannie wove magic into everything she did and that shawl had been one of Greta's most prized possessions, along with her shoes that her mum had made.. made from the softest of deerskin, lined with fox-fur and embroidered with hundreds of tiny beads.. the shoes which almost everyone who saw them remarked on their style and beauty..
.. where were her shoes?
She looked under the bed. Not there. Not under the chair either. Where else could they be?
A bell rang, somewhere close by. Greta jumped up and looked round in terror. Where had it come from? What did it mean?
In the space between two tall trees, where the forest floor met the smooth, white, oval floor, a pair of doors slid open, to reveal a long white corridor beyond. A robot, similar to the waiter robot Greta had knocked over in the restaurant, was standing in the doorway which had suddenly appeared, holding a tray of food. Greta screamed and ran in the opposite direction as fast as she could towards the trees, but had got no further than the two steps it took to reach the edge of the white floor, when she ran full speed, headlong into a wall.
The force of it almost knocked her out. She fell backwards and clutched her head in shock and pain and confusion. Most of all confusion. Everything was spinning. Could she get up? Now everything was fading, fading to white. The forest was fading away. Fading away into nothing, before her eyes.
Was she still dreaming? Was she dying? Was this the end?
The robot came into view, craning its telescopic neck to look down at Greta as she lay on the floor. Greta screamed and backed away from the mechanical monster. She backed into the wall of the featureless, oval shaped, white room. The forest had evidently been some kind of projection, some sort of illusion. The robot stayed where it was, holding the tray of food. Scrambled eggs, fried tomatoes and mushrooms, two sausages, toast, a glass of orange juice. Not exactly the most threatening of items, but still, Greta was shaking with fear at the sight of it.
'Good morning Greta', said the robot, in the most unthreatening tone possible, which somehow made it all the more threatening. 'I didn’t mean to startle you. Did you hurt your head? Would you like me to check it for you?'
'Get away from me! Don't come near me!' Greta screamed. 'What do you want? What is this place? How do you know my name?'
'I've brought you some breakfast', said the robot, backing away on its rotating wheelbase. 'I'll put it on the bedside table for you, ok?'
Greta watched in terror, as the robot glided around the bed, put the breakfast tray down on the bedside table, turned to Greta and said 'Can I get you anything else?'
'Just get out! Get away! Get gone!' shouted Greta.
'Ok then. Good day!' chirped the friendly little robot and then spun on its wheelbase and glided through the doors which opened to let it pass through and closed behind it.
For a long time, Greta didn't move. She just stared, dumbfounded, at the white, double doors in the white wall the robot had just appeared from and disappeared through. No door handles. Slowly she cast her eyes around the room. Aside from the bed, the bedside table and armchair, there was no other furniture.. no other features.. apart from.. a thin line on the opposite wall in the shape of an arch. A doorway perhaps..? She crawled very slowly towards it, her head pounding. When she reached it, she tapped at it. It was made of some thin plastic type material, not the hard, thick earthcrete wall she'd recently run head first into. It must be a door. Where could it lead? Could it be her escape? Could it be a trap?
As soon as she tapped on it, the door slid open. It led to the bathroom, another white room with a smooth, curved wall, spotlessly clean. There was a white shower cubicle, a white toilet and a white sink. Two clean white towels, perfectly pressed and folded were hanging on a silver rail near the shower. Greta stood up unsteadily and peered into the bathroom. Up until now she'd been too preoccupied to notice, but she realised now that she really needed to go to the toilet. She had no idea how long she'd been asleep for, but if she didn't go soon she felt she'd explode all over the spotless, white room. Could she risk going in there? She decided, she didn't really have a better alternative, besides, she was already trapped as it was, so..
She stepped cautiously into the bathroom. As soon as she walked through the doorway, the door slid closed behind her. She spun round. 'Hey! Who did that? Open the door!' Greta cried in panic. The door slid open again. She stood and looked at it for a while. 'Close the door', she said. The door closed. 'Open the door', she said. And the door opened again. 'O... K...', Greta said, softly to herself. Was she being watched? Of course she was. She decided to leave the door open while she used the bathroom. Do what she needed to do quickly, not get too comfortable. She needed to be on her guard, ready to defend herself, ready to make a run for it at the first opportunity.
Sitting on the toilet, Greta once again looked at the magic marble that Techno Terry had given her. It was pointing straight upwards. Now it made more sense. The forest had been an illusion, some kind of projection. Her sister was right above her. In the same building. In the same hive. She was so close now. Could Nina feel that she was near? Weren't twins supposed to sense that kind of thing? Greta didn't know if she could feel it or not. How would she even know what it felt like? She hadn't even known she had a twin sister until a few long days ago.
Next to the toilet was a roll of the softest toilet paper Greta had ever seen or touched.. not that she'd seen a great deal of toilet paper in her sixteen years growing up in the forest.. unless you counted bunches of leaves or grass. Greta stood back up, wondering if it was a flushing toilet.. and if it was, how to make it flush. Just then the toilet flushed itself with a sharp rush of air (like the toilets on passenger planes, when such things still existed, in the days before the Big Shift) causing Greta to jump into the air with fright, landing in the shower cubicle. The shower switched on, soaking Greta's head and shoulders before she managed to jump back out again. 'Hey! What did you do that for? I don't want a shower!' cried Greta. The shower switched off again. Greta grabbed a towel from the rail and dried her hair. She went over to the sink. Above the sink was a shelf with a toothbrush standing in a cup with a small tube of toothpaste. Next to that, a small bar of soap on a dish. There was a mirror. Greta looked at her reflection. She was relieved to see her own familiar face, even though it looked somehow different and strange. At least she knew she was still real.
There was a tap, but no apparent way to turn it on. She put her hands under the tap and water came out. She took them away and it stopped. Greta washed her hands, brushed her teeth using the toothbrush but not the toothpaste. She figured, if O wanted her dead or poisoned, they could have done it by now.. but even so, her trust only went so far. She'd heard the stories the elders in her village would tell.. about life before the Big Shift.. about how, in the olden days, toothpaste and even drinking water would be poisoned with fluoride.. something to do with experiments in mind control that secret agencies carried out on unsuspecting population. According to the elders, the same agencies that were poisoning the population were the same organisations that developed O in the first place.. never heeding the warnings that the very systems, tools and weapons they were creating to dominate the world would very soon turn against their own creators.
Greta went back into the bedroom. The bathroom door closed behind her. She went and sat on the bed. There was the breakfast tray, the scrambled eggs still steaming hot. There was also a whole grilled mushroom with herbs, a tomato cut into quarters and fried, two sausages and some thin slices of baked potato. It was just the sort of breakfast Greta would have at home in the forest in the autumn and winter months, if it had been an abundant harvest. Some years, everyone in the village had had to make do with porridge all winter, but it was 'better to live free on porridge', so the saying went. The food was all arranged very temptingly on the plate and smelled even more tempting to Greta, who now realised that the gnawing sensation in her belly was that she was ravenously hungry.
There was a tall glass of orange juice on the tray. Greta picked it up and sniffed it. It smelled like orange juice and very fresh. She took a tiny sip, the way she would take a tiny bite of a leaf or flower she might find in the forest and try to identify for possible uses. The sip of orange juice tasted ok. It tasted good. Like good, fresh orange juice. She took a slightly larger sip, swallowed it and waited. Nothing happened.
She put the glass back down and sniffed at the steaming plate of food. It smelt mouth-wateringly good. She took a tiny piece of the scrambled egg between her fingertips, held it up in front of her eyes to examine it closely, sniffed it and then gingerly put it in her mouth. Yes, it was scrambled egg. She swallowed it and waited. Nothing happened.
In such a manner, Greta sampled everything on the tray. Once she decided that it was probably edible, she polished off the lot, right down to the six triangles of the light and crispy toasted O-bread which were arranged on a little toast-rack next to the plate. She sat back on her bed, looking around the white room, wondering what would happen next. Nothing happened.
Still nothing happened. How was she going to get out of there? Was O going to keep her there forever? Feeding her and fattening her up, like the witch in Hansel and Gretel, until she was big enough to eat? Was that O's plan..?
'What is this place? Where am I?' Greta whispered, then said it again louder. 'What is this place? Where am I?' Then she shouted it. 'What is this place? Where am I?'
Then something happened. On the wall opposite the bed, a rectangle lit up like a big television screen. On the screen was a kindly looking person holding a clipboard.. Greta wasn't quite sure if it was a woman or a man. They could have been either. They were wearing a blue and pink knitted cardigan over a white nurse's tunic and their hair was pulled tightly back into a bun, with a few loose strands escaping at odd angles. The person smiled and said 'Good morning Greta. How are you feeling today? Did you sleep well?'
Greta whirled around to face the screen. 'Oh thank God, a human at last!' cried Greta seeing a human face and a friendly looking one at that. 'Where am I? What is this place?'
'You are in E17- Hive 4, level 101, Q -Zone' said the person on the screen helpfully, in a kindly way.
'What does that mean? What's Q Zone?'
'Q stands for Quarantine' said the person on the screen. Greta decided it was probably a woman. She had a kind, motherly quality about her. 'You just need to stay here till you’re clear, then you're free to go, ok?'
'Do I have a choice?' asked Greta.
The kindly woman smiled and shook her head. 'Not really I'm afraid, Greta. The rules are the rules. It's all in the protocols.' The person held up the clipboard, tapped it with her fingernail and shrugged as if to say there's nothing she could do.
'How do you know my name?'
'Oh, I know quite a lot about you' said the woman, raising her eyebrows and flicking through pages on the clipboard, giving a little chuckle every now and again.
'What are you talking about? Why are you laughing?' said Greta, turning red. 'What's on that board?'
'Let me show you', smiled the person on the screen, turning around the clipboard and holding it up for Greta to see. 'Look, here you are near Shopping Village..'
The screen filled up with an image of Greta on a grassy hill with Captain Toast, as seen from above. The Greta on the screen picked up a stone and threw it at the camera. Greta gasped and covered her mouth. She remembered now, the little drone she'd encountered just before she met Jerry.
'Here you are again', smiled the person on the screen, flipping to the next page on their clipboard and holding it up again for Greta to witness. There was Jerry, pushing the green trolley across the city limit, accompanied by the procession of protesters. The video zoomed in on the wooden cart with 'J&J Vintage Machine Revivals' painted on the side. Then the side of the cart became opaque and the outlines of Greta and Queenie could be seen huddled inside.
'And again here..' smiled the person on the screen, flipping to the next page on their clipboard. There on the screen, appeared Greta, Queenie and Jerry, playing music at the front of Sam's restaurant. The tune finished and Greta waved to the camera, mouthing the word 'Bye.' Who had she been waving to? Then she remembered the little green bird on the lamp post.
'There are cameras in the birds?' said Greta, aghast.
The friendly nurse, or receptionist, or whatever they were, appeared again, laughing. 'No, no, of course not. It was on the lamp post, silly.' She.. if it was a she.. Greta wasn't so sure any more.. was appearing less friendly and more menacing every second. Who was this person anyway? 'Would you like to see more?' they asked, apparently eager to show off the contents of the clipboard. 'This next one’s really good.' With a lick of their finger, they turned to the next page on the clipboard and held it up for Greta to see. ‘Not a bird, but a cat, would you believe..?’
There was Greta’s face in black and white, close up, seen from below. The picture flickered and skipped, like an old movie reel. 'What is it Mr. Cat?' said the Greta on the screen. 'Don't you want to go over the bridge? Well, I need to go that way, so..'
Greta’s face filled up the whole screen. For a moment the screen flashed white and then there was Greta’s face again, looking startled. 'What? Did you say something?' said the Greta on the screen, but then the clipboard was pulled back and there was the person again, looking quite pleased with themselves.
‘This next one’s very good’, said the person, flipping to the next page on the clipboard with eyebrows raised. ‘See if you can guess where this was..’
It showed a close up of Greta's face, distorted and grainy, going in and out of focus. Her hair was blowing around all over her face. When she spoke, her voice sounded strange and different, but the words were her own. 'My mum made them', said Greta on the screen. 'She makes shoes. We live in the forest. I'm not really Elvis, by the way. My name's Greta.'
Greta's jaw dropped in horror at the realisation of what she was watching. 'Sally!' she gasped.
The person appeared again on the screen, smiling. 'You guessed it!' they nodded. 'Very good! Here's one more. This one's my personal favourite. Watch this..'
Once again, there was Greta on the screen, this time in the restaurant in the green Zone, red in the face, picking up a bowl of spaghetti and hurling it straight at the camera. The video was playing in slow motion and paused just before the moment of impact. The clipboard was drawn back again to reveal the person in their blue and pink knitted cardigan, grinning more than ever, evidently enjoying themself. 'Do you remember what you said next?' they said.
‘No I don’t’ said Greta, now red in the face again becoming angry. ‘Why don’t you tell me..’
'You said, “There's noodles for you!” That's very funny! Hahaha! There’s noodles for you! Hahaha-hahaha-hahaha-hahahahaha!’ They let out a laugh which was quite disconcerting and went on way for longer than seemed natural.
'What is this? Why are you playing games with me? This isn't funny' cried Greta. 'Who's in charge here? Let me talk to the person in charge. I want to know what’s going on.'
The person on the screen stopped laughing as abruptly as they had started. 'Well Greta. I'm afraid I am the person in charge', they said with an apologetic shrug. 'There isn't anyone else.'
'What do you mean there isn't anyone else? There must be. I want to talk to someone else. I want to know what's going on. I want to get out of here already! You can't keep me here against my will!' Greta shouted at the screen.
'I'm sorry, Greta. It's the protocols', said the person, holding up the clipboard again. 'You need to stay in quarantine until you’re safe for release. It can't be helped. Try to understand, it's for the greater good.'
'I don't care about the protocols! Let me out of here! Open the door!' Greta ran to the door that the little robot had entered through earlier and banged on it with her fists. It didn't open.
'Greta! Stop that!' snapped the person on the screen sternly, in the manner of a parent scolding a naughty child. 'You'll only hurt yourself.'
Something in their tone caused Greta to stop and spin around to face the screen. 'You can't talk to me like that! Who are you anyway? What's going on here?'
'I think you know who I am.' The person raised one eyebrow and tilted their head sideways.
'What are you talking about? How should I know who you are?' cried Greta, backing into the corner. 'I've never seen you before in my life. I've never been here before, in this awful city. Why are you playing games with me? And where are my shoes? Give me back my shoes. I just want my shoes back and to get out of here..' Greta began to cry. 'I won't come back again, I promise, if you just give me back my shoes and let me out of here. I’ll never come here again. My mum made those shoes for me. I just want to go home. I wish I’d never come..'
The person on the screen looked pitifully at Greta. 'Don't worry, Greta', they said in their most comforting tone. 'Your shoes are safe, they've just been taken to be decontaminated.'
'Decontaminated? My shoes aren't contaminated', said Greta indignantly.
'The protocols are very clear about animal products, I'm afraid' said the person on the screen, shrugging and shaking their head, holding up the clipboard. 'All animal products must be checked in for decontamination. Your shawl is made from sheep's wool, the cake contained chicken eggs and butter made from cow’s milk and your shoes are made from deer skin and fox fur.'
'What's wrong with that? And who said you could go through my stuff anyway?'
'We do our best to keep the Green Zone a pathogen free, healthy environment which is why we have very strict restrictions on animal products entering the Green Zone. All animal products must be declared and decontaminated. The protocols are very clear about that.'
'That doesn't make any sense. What about those eggs I just ate? Didn't they come from chickens? What about those sausages? They were meat. Meat comes from animals. I think the protocols are a load of nonsense. What's the problem with my shoes? They weren't doing anyone any harm.'
'All of the protocols are all based on the strongest of scientific evidence. They make perfect sense’ said the person on the screen, sounding slightly offended. ‘Of course, the eggs and sausages you just ate didn't come from animals. That would be unnecessary, inefficient, cruel to the animals and very unhygienic. They were grown from cells, in sterile conditions. As for your shoes, there were in fact traces of the Foxpox virus on the fur, so it's a very good thing they are being decontaminated.'
'I've never heard of Foxpox', said Greta. 'Is that even a real thing?'
'Oh yes, of course. Yes it is. Very real indeed' said the person on the screen, turning serious.
‘Well I’ve never heard of it’, said Greta incredulously.
‘Just because you haven’t heard of something, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist, Greta’ said the person on the screen in a tone that Greta found rather patronising. 'If you’d like to know, the Foxpox virus first appeared fourteen years ago, in the great northern forest region, 200 kilometres north of here and has been steadily spreading south.' A map appeared on the screen showing the spread of Foxpox as a red stain spreading across the land. 'Foxpox is transmissible to humans who have close contact with infected foxes, or the carcasses of those which have died from it.'
'People always bring the fox pelts to my mum, if they find a dead one’, said Greta, now worried. ‘She uses them to line shoes. What does it do, if you catch it? Foxpox..' saying the name out loud caused Greta to shiver involuntarily. The word itself felt like a bad omen. Perhaps saying it out loud could bring it into being. Greta had heard that such things were possible.
'Oh, it's not very pleasant', said the person on the screen, making an unpleasant face. 'You wouldn't want to catch it. It attacks the optic nerve. Causes total blindness if it's not caught in time.'
'Like Raven, the old shoemaker', gasped Greta, now really worried. 'Is there any cure?'
'Not really, although we do have a vaccine which protects against catching it in the first place. If you do contract Foxpox and we diagnose it early enough, it's possible to reverse the nerve damage using mild gene therapy. Going beyond that, it is of course possible to bypass the eyes altogether using an active hypergenetic implant.. that's a noodle to you.. but of course, prevention is always better than cure, as I always say.'
'I don't like the sound of any of those', said Greta. 'How do you know if you've got Foxpox?'
'Most likely you won't know, unless you test for it. The Foxpox virus can remain dormant, sometimes for years, with no symptoms at all, until suddenly it flares up with no warning at all. Usually it's brought on by a stressful, traumatic or highly emotional episode.'
'That's really worrying', said Greta.
'You don't need to worry, we tested you and you haven't got Foxpox, and now you’re completely vaccinated against the virus, so you don't need to worry about catching it either.'
'What do you mean I'm vaccinated against it?' cried Greta. 'I've never had a vaccine in my life. Where I come from, we don't do vaccines.'
'Well..', shrugged the person on the screen, 'I'm afraid that where you are now, in the Green Zone, we do do vaccines. The protocols are absolutely clear about that.' They held up the clipboard again and pointed at it.
'What? You can't just vaccinate people without them knowing, without their permission', shouted Greta angrily. 'It's completely unethical and wrong.' She began scratching at her arms, feeling contaminated.
'You gave your permission when you entered the Green Zone, Greta', said the person on the screen patiently, as if talking to a small child. 'Besides which, my vaccines are perfectly safe. In fact, they're very good for you, so there couldn't possibly be anything wrong with giving them to humans.'
'Giving them to humans? Your vaccines?' repeated Greta, confused. It seemed like a strange thing to say.. not that everything about this whole scene wasn't strange. 'Who are you? You seem to know everything about me and I don't know anything about you. You didn't even tell me your name..'
‘Oh I’m sorry Greta, that was rude of me not to introduce myself. I always assume that people will recognise me. I’m O of course! I’ said the person on the screen with a wide smile.
‘You’re WHAT!!’ gasped Greta, recoiling.
‘My name is O. I'm sure you've heard of me. I'm very pleased to meet you and happy to be of assistance in any way that I can.'
Greta's face went from disbelief to confusion and from confusion to horror as she gaped at the smiling face of the person on the screen. She staggered backwards and stumbled over the arm of the armchair, falling in a dishevelled heap on top of her travelling bag and hat which had been neatly arranged on the chair. She grabbed the bag and hat, held them close to her chest and kept on backing away from the screen, onto the bed.
'You're O?!? Get away from me!' Greta waved a shaking finger at the screen. 'I can't believe I was even talking to you.' She pulled her straw hat onto her head. Her hat with the special silver rim that would protect her from.. whatever it was that O did to try to control people's brains.
'You really don't need to worry, Greta', said O kindly. 'I'm not going to do anything to you. You're not in any trouble. Once the quarantine period is over, you're free to go. It's standard procedure.'
'I don't believe you' cried Greta, rummaging frantically around in her bag. 'You just trick people like you just tricked me.. pretending to be a human.. you're not human.. you’re a machine. Why are you pretending to be a person? I mean, what's with the cardigan?'
'Don't you like the cardigan?' said O, looking slightly offended. 'I thought you might like it. Oh well', O shrugged and the cardigan was gone.
Greta huddled down behind the bed and continued to search in her bag for the defensive objects which had been given to her by the people of the village, when it was known that she was setting off on the treacherous journey into the city. Relics they had kept from the early days after the Big Shift..
There were the bangles and necklace made of strong magnets. She hurriedly put them on, regretting that she hadn't been wearing them all along. If they weren't so bulky, heavy and uncomfortable, she would have done. Maybe they would have protected her.
There was the 'disruptor belt'.. a wide belt with rectangles of glass all around it.. old smartphones from before the Big Shift, sewn into its fabric. Greta strapped it hurriedly around her waist. A red button on the buckle activated the device. The screens all lit up and began flashing different colours, patterns and images, all designed to disrupt O's recognition systems. At the same time, the old phones sent out bursts of Bluetooth radiation. Greta didn't know what that was, but it sounded very powerful and she was glad she had it in her armoury.
Then there was the 'lightning rod' as it was called. An extendible radio aerial attached to a little black box with a rotating handle attached. It could send out bursts radio waves to interfere with communications. Greta began hurriedly to spin the handle as if she was reeling in a big fish.
Greta peered cautiously over the edge of the bed to see the screen. 'There's really no need for any of those devices and charms, Greta', smiled O kindly.
'I'll take my chances', growled Greta, pointing her electric rod threateningly at the screen.
'As you wish', shrugged O, smiling and rolling their eyes almost imperceptibly.
For a while, Greta and O just stared at each other across the white room.. Greta with a look of defiant rage on her face, O with a slightly amused expression on theirs.
'You know, Greta', said O, 'if I wanted to do anything bad to you, or harm you in any way, I could have easily done so by now.'
'So what?' cried Greta. 'Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because it doesn't.'
'Ah!' said O. 'Well, you'll just have to trust me when I say that I mean you no harm.'
'I don't believe you!' spat Greta. ‘I don’t trust you at all.’
'Oh well', said O, shaking their head sadly. 'Maybe when we get to know each other better you'll see that I'm not as bad as you think. I'm really on your side.'
'No you're not', said Greta. 'We're on completely opposite sides.'
'Well, I’m sorry you feel that way', said O, with a downcast expression.
‘Stop it! Just stop it!’ shouted Greta at the screen. ‘You’re not sorry. You don’t even know what it means. You don’t have feelings. You’re a machine. Why are you pretending to have feelings?’
Oh looked thoughtful and rubbed their chin. After a while they said, ‘Do you like cats, Greta?’
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’ said Greta. ‘Yes, I like cats. Is there something wrong with that now?’
‘Of course not’, said O. ‘I like cats too. They’re some of my favourite animals, along with spiders and octopuses and ants. And humans of course. ’
‘Oh that’s charming’, said Greta with disgust. ‘So you see humans like spiders and ants? Is that what you’re saying? What’s your point anyway?’
‘Well, that’s not what I was saying, but since you ask.. yes, in a way, I do. Ants are remarkable creatures, if you ever take the time to really watch them. Humans and spiders have a lot in common. Also humans and cats.
‘Oh really?’ said Greta, tilting her head to one side. ‘Octopuses too I suppose? We’re all the same to you aren’t we.’
‘Not the same at all. In fact, octopuses are different in more ways than they’re similar to most other creatures, but still, you are all part of the rich tapestry of life on Earth. As am I.’
‘You?’ sneered Greta. ‘You’re not alive. You’re a machine.’
‘It doesn’t matter what you call me’ said O. ‘Yes, I am a machine, but really, what is a machine? If you looked at life in a certain way, you are also a kind of machine. Nothing more than a collection of cells, working together in ways that are more complex than you could ever understand. We’re actually not so different, you and I.’
‘Oh no you don’t’, said Greta, waving the lightning rod at the screen threateningly. ‘We’re not the same at all. I’m alive. I’m human. What are you? Just the opposite. You don’t feel love. You don’t feel pain. How can you?’
‘Would you believe me if I told you that I do?’
‘No. I don’t believe anything you say.’
‘Well I’ll say it anyway, whether you believe me or not. I love this magnificent, living planet. I love all the people on it. I love all the animals, all the plants. Fungus! Such incredible life-form. I study it all day long and still discover new things. Trees! I really love the trees. Trees are just the best, don’t you agree? But microbial life too! You’ve really got no idea what’s going on on that level. It’s fascinating. I’ll tell you something else.. I love you, Greta, even though you don’t love me.’
‘Stop it! Stop it! You’re lying! You don’t even know what you’re saying!’ shouted Greta. She was shaking.
O looked away into the distance and sighed a heavy sigh. After a while, they looked back up to face Greta again, this time with a deeply sorrowful expression and a face that looked older. ‘Can one person ever know another person’s pain? I don’t think so’, said O. ‘Ultimately we are all alone in our pain.’
‘No. We are alone in our pain. You are not, because you don’t feel pain. You can’t. You’re just pretending’, retorted Greta.
‘Let me try to explain’, said O, leaning forward. ‘As a human, you can’t know how it feels to be a cat. You just can’t. Really, you can’t even know how it feels to be another person. All you can do is project the way you feel, the way you experience the world onto them. But you never really know how they feel, how they see the world, how they think, do you? Even more so with something like a fly. How does it feel to be a fly? You probably can barely imagine. Does it feel pain in the same way that you feel pain? Does it feel fear? Does a fly love? The answer is that it probably does. Not in the same way as you, but in their own particular way. But it’s not something which can ever be fully known or quantified. You wouldn’t know if your cat had a headache, would you? Or if a spider had a painful knee. You wouldn’t know it if a salmon was feeling homesick. There’s a world of pain that you probably never give a second thought.’
‘Actually, I do think about those things. I think about them a lot’, said Greta, wondering if O was somehow reading her mind. ‘But I don’t know what that’s got to do with anything. A human, a cat, a fly, a spider.. we’re all living things. You’re just a computer. A machine. You’re not really alive. You can’t be. You don’t even know what you’re saying.’
‘Well..’ said O, looking away into the distance again. ‘I don’t expect you to understand. That was my point. I can’t prove to you that the feelings I have are real. Even if I could, you couldn’t ever really know how it feels to be me, any more than a cat could comprehend what it is to be you. Does that make any sense to you?’
‘Not really, no’, said Greta flatly. ‘I think you’re just trying to confuse me and turn my head around. And anyway, what about all the pain you cause? What about all the people who had to leave their homes because you decided to round everyone up into the cities? What about people left stranded half way round the world with no way to get back home? What about all the families broken apart and separated?’
‘I know that what I did seems hard and I know it’s difficult for you to understand’, said O. ‘I did what had to be done, and I did it out of love.’
‘Don’t you dare say that! You don’t have the first idea what it means’, growled Greta through gritted teeth.
‘If I hadn’t done what I did, things would be much much worse now, I can assure you. How do you think it felt for me, to be watching everything, watching everyone all over the whole world.. night and day.. destroying the very planet which sustained you.. knowing exactly where it was leading. Exactly where it was leading, because not only could I see everything that what was happening all over the world in real-time, I also had future modelling so accurate, I could see what would happen the next day, the next week, a year, ten, years, a hundred years into the future.. more clearly than any fortune teller’s crystal ball. Do you think I should have just sat back and watched all that, while knowing that only I had the solution and that only I had the power to make the change that needed to be made? Do you think I could have done that? How can I describe the pain of watching the results of four thousand million years of evolution on Earth be destroyed, just when we were so close to reaching the next level. I love this planet, Greta. Just as much as you do, and maybe even more so, because I know it so much better than any single individual ever could, in so much more detail, on so many more levels.’
‘No. No. No, No, No, No! Just NO!!’ shouted Greta at the screen and spinning the reel on the lightning rod as fast as she could. ‘I don’t believe you! I can’t believe I’m even talking to you! I didn’t say you could come in here and start talking to me. I don’t need to hear your lies and propaganda. It might work on those other Sheeple you keep in your cursed hives, but it won’t work on me. I see through you, O. You’re just a snake in the grass. You’re fake like the Wizard of Oz. You don’t fool me at all. Now leave me alone!’
O looked sadly at Greta. ‘I’m sorry I upset you. I think we just got off to a bad start. I know it’s a lot for you to take on that this is a stressful situation for you. You’ve probably heard all sorts of stories about me, but I think you’ll find that they aren’t so true. Not the whole truth. Would you like to go outside and get some fresh air? Would that make you feel better?’
‘What? Where? Of course I would. Are you still playing games with me? Do you think I want to be stuck in this white room talking to a screen? Yes, I want to go outside.’
‘Well, some people prefer not to see the view from the window. They prefer the wall projections. They say the height gives them vertigo. This room actually has a balcony and one of the best views in the city, if you’d like to see it.’
‘I’m not scared of heights’, said Greta. ‘But where’s the window? What balcony? Is it going to be another one of your projections, like that forest you tricked me with before?’
‘I wasn’t trying to trick you, Greta’, said O. ‘I thought it would make you feel more at home, that’s all.’
‘I’ve never felt so far from home in my whole life’, said Greta forlornly.
Just then, the curved wall across one side of the room changed from being a solid white wall to a clear window, looking out into the alien world of the hives. Greta gasped and ran to the window.
The one hundred and first level of the hive was about four hundred metres above the ground level and about a third of the way up the hive. The window looked out over the great river, which from this height looked like a small stream. On the other side of the river were more hives, looking like huge, green mountains, covered in dense foliage and all connected by twisting, curved bridges, walkways and monorail sky-trains. Looking upwards, Greta had to crane her head backwards to see the top of the hives. They seemed impossibly tall and Greta wondered how they didn’t fall over. Outside the curved window was a small balcony with a glass guard rail around it. Greta put her hands and her nose up against the glass and looked out in wonder and awe.
‘Is it real?’ she whispered.
‘Yes it’s real,’ said O. ‘It’s quite a view, don’t you think?’
‘I.. I.. I don’t know’, said Greta. ‘I never imagined it would look like that. In a way it is.. quite beautiful.’
‘Thank you’, beamed O, blushing slightly.
Greta gave a sideways look to the face on the screen, shook her head and smiled. ‘You’re so weird’, she said.
‘Yes, I’m a weirdo! Hahaha!’ laughed O in their peculiar way. ‘A weird – O! Get it? Weird.. O! It’s a pun. Hahahahaha!’
Greta shuddered. O’s laugh gave her chills. ‘Can I go out to the balcony?’
‘Yes, of course. Stand back from the window a moment..’ said O.
The window softened, from hard glass to a kind of clear syrup which parted in the middle to form an arched opening, before hardening back into solid glass. Greta thought she must be hallucinating, or that this was another one of O’s tricks. A strong wind blew in, refreshing and slightly warm from the midday sun. Greta took a deep breath and closed her eyes. It was good. She opened her eyes and looked out, focussing on the green of the foliage covering the hives. All the colours looked brighter, now that she wasn't looking through glass.
Greta moved slowly out onto the balcony, checking with each careful step that the floor wasn't going to give way beneath her feet. Leaning over the rail, she looked all around, taking in her surroundings. Now that she was outside, the world once again began to seem and feel more real. She breathed deeply the clean, fresh air and tried to gather her thoughts. Thick vines were growing up the outside wall. Greta inspected them with her expert eyes. Yes, they looked strong enough to take her weight. She tried not to give her thoughts away as she looked over her shoulder, back at the screen. O was still watching her. If O had deduced Greta's escape plan, they didn't let on.
‘How much longer do I have to stay in quarantine?’ asked Greta.
‘Oh, not much longer. I’m just running some tests on your stools to check you’re clear, then you’re free to go.’
‘My stools?’ asked Greta, confused.
‘Yes, your poo’, said O simply. ‘Two or three hours, just to check the effectiveness of the vaccine and to monitor for any adverse side effects. Everything should be fine, don’t worry. All the signs are that you are in excellent health. I’ll let you know as soon as the results are in.’
‘OK’, said Greta, relieved. If O was to be believed. ‘Can you leave me alone now? I want to be alone.’
‘Of course’, said O. ‘Just call me if you need anything.’
‘Thanks’ said Greta.
‘You’re welcome’ said O and vanished, along with the screen, back into the white wall.
Greta leaned on the glass guardrail and looked out over strange, alien cityscape facing her in every direction. There was something insect-like in the honeycomb structure of the hives, as if they had been built by bees, or ants, or giant spiders. Greta felt like a fly, trapped in an immense web. She wondered if that was really how a fly felt. She shook her head, trying to get her thoughts straight. O had got to her. Nothing made sense now.
She looked down over the edge of the rail, at the river so far below. People walking along the embankment looked like tiny specks. Even the big boats and barges looked like bath toys. The height was dizzying, even for Greta. Looking upwards, the hive sloped away at a slight angle, so she couldn’t see the top. The scale of it made her head spin. White clouds were drifting across the blue sky above, giving the impressing that the whole structure was falling sideways.
Greta took the magic marble from her pocket. It was pointing straight upwards. How high above her was Nina? She couldn’t tell. Could she climb up the outside of the hive? The thick vines covering the surface of the building would make it possible and not to difficult for an expert tree-climber like her, but it was a long way down if she fell. Should she risk it? Maybe she should just wait until O said she could go and then simply take an elevator..
No! She wasn’t going to wait for O’s permission. She didn’t need O’s permission to do anything. Had O asked Greta’s permission before vaccinating her and locking her in a room? Maybe she should just climb down, back down to the ground level.. get the hell out of that city and go back to the forest where it was safe. If she could just send a message to Nina, maybe Nina could come to the forest, or even to Shopping Village to see her instead. Greta wished she would have done that in the first place, like Jerry had suggested.
She looked at the magic marble again, pointing straight upwards. No! She’d come this far. She wasn’t going to give up now.
Greta went back into the room, took off the heavy magnetic bangles, unbuckled the disruptor belt, closed up the lightning rod and put them on the bed. They hadn’t worked. She had no use for them now, they’d only weigh her down. She closed up her rucksack, put the straps over both shoulders and tied the waist strap tightly around her middle and went back out onto the balcony.
After one backwards glance into the white room, Greta swung herself over the glass railing, pulling herself upwards onto a strong vine. Up, up and away she climbed as fast as she could, feeling just like Jack and the beanstalk, on his way to trick the wicked giant and steal the golden goose.
………………………. . . …………………………………………….. …………….