Edsel Grizzler (20 page)

‘The Mira could easily send an infant to replace you,' said yet another of the Mira, and as he heard the figure say this, Edsel felt a catch in his chest, like a hook through his heart.

Jacq nodded. ‘You could send a baby, but … but we're asking you not to.'

‘We're asking very politely,' Edsel added. ‘Please.'

‘Jacqueline, the Mira could do it after you were gone, and you'd never know,' said the Mira with the sandy voice.

‘Yes, but I don't think you will. I know you won't.'

‘And you're certain that this is what you want?'

Jacq swallowed hard. ‘I am,' she said, in a strong voice that cracked slightly, just at the end.

‘And you, Robert? This is a great and generous gesture that is being offered to you.'

‘I know. I know. It's huge. And if you say yes, I promise I'll do better. I'll make sure my parents never lose me again.'

‘Which parents?'

‘All of them,' Edsel replied.

The figure in the middle turned to the others, first to the left, then the right. Then it levelled its gaze on Edsel and Jacq. ‘The Mira will confer. You should return to the Domus and wait there.'

The lights over the figures faded away, and feeling a presence behind him, Edsel turned to see Man standing there in front of the bright open doorway.

They left the Hub, walking silently across the lawn, following Man. Edsel was the first to speak. ‘Are you sure we've done the right thing?'

‘It's a bit late for that, don't you think?'

‘I know, but are
you
sure?'

‘Yes. Don't ask me again.'

‘But you don't know where—'

‘Don't ask me again.'

‘Are you scared?'

‘Excited. I'm excited.'

‘Your parents will be sad.'

‘They've already lost me.'

B
en was waiting in the corridor, outside his room. ‘Hi,' he said as Jacq and Edsel approached. ‘How did it go?'

‘How did you know it was us coming up the hall?' Edsel asked.

Ben looked at him like he'd just asked the stupidest question in the world. ‘Jacq's right foot hits the ground a tiny bit harder than her left, and your nose whistles when you breathe.'

‘It does?' Edsel listened to his breathing. He couldn't hear anything unusual.

‘Yes, it does. So, how did it go?' Ben asked again, opening the door for them to enter his room.

‘Well, it's done,' Edsel told him. ‘And I know you don't approve, Ben, but thanks for your help anyway.'

A quick smile flickered across Ben's face. ‘So they said yes?'

‘Not yet.'

‘They're going to call me when they've decided,' Jacq said, from where she stood by the window, and Edsel heard her heave a huge sigh.

‘But we're not allowed to talk about it,' he quickly added.

Ben came all the way in and closed the door behind him, before feeling his way over to a chair. ‘We're not allowed to talk about it?'

‘No.'

‘Well, you know, I doubt we'd be allowed to hack into Verdada's main system using fractal flames as an auditory interface either, but that didn't stop us.'

‘Good point,' agreed Jacq. Then she rested the palms of her hands and her forehead against the glass. ‘I'm going to miss this,' she sighed. ‘I wonder if the other place is nicer or … not.'

‘It'll be nicer once
you're
there,' Edsel said, in a very quiet voice, but it was loud enough for Jacq to hear, and she turned to smile at him.

‘You're sweet. I think I'm going to miss you.'

‘All right, that's enough of that,' Ben said, faking a big sniff. ‘You'll make me cry in a minute. So, any clues about this other place, or how they're going to do it, or anything like that?
If
they do it.'

‘No,' Jacq replied. Then she sat on the edge of her bed. ‘It's exciting, I suppose, possibly going to a new place.'

‘Is this one getting boring?' Ben asked.

‘No, not really. But I feel like I've done pretty much everything I can. I've even mastered the seven-twenty air grab, so …'

‘How would you get there?' Ben asked.

‘I don't know.'

A knock sounded at the door, loud within the room, and they fell silent, casting glances back and forth. Then Ben stood up. ‘It's Man,' he said. ‘That silver suit of his squeaks when he walks.'

‘Graves, comma, Jacqueline,' Man said, when Ben had opened the door.

‘And me?' Edsel asked.

‘No. Alone.'

Jacq smiled tightly. ‘All righty,' she said, standing up. ‘Let's go.'

‘Well, see you soon,' Edsel said.

‘Hear
you soon,' said Ben.

‘Yeah. In a minute.' Then she turned and followed Man along the corridor.

‘So, I wonder what they'll say,' Edsel mused, after a moment.

Ben shook his head. ‘Impossible to know.'

‘You couldn't just crack into the—'

‘No.'

‘Fair enough.' Edsel sighed. ‘She seemed nervous.'

‘Yeah, of course she did. I would be too.'

‘I
am.
If they give her the go-ahead, then I'm next. Oh no!' he suddenly exclaimed. ‘What if that was the last time we ever saw her? I didn't say a proper goodbye or anything. She did this for me, and I never got a chance to thank her!'

‘She knew, Edsel. She knew you were grateful.'

‘I hope so.'

‘She was a good friend.'

‘Was? She is,' Edsel replied. Then he shook his head. ‘This has been an amazing experience, you know. Sometimes I've found it really hard to remember who I am. But I think it's coming back a bit now.'

‘So, who are you? Tell me.'

‘I'm Edsel Grizzler, son of Barry and Tilda Grizzler, who lives at Number 58, Bland Street, West Malaise. That's who I am. And you?'

Ben smiled. ‘I'm … I'm Ben, the blind kid who's good with computers.'

‘You can't remember any more than that?'

‘Not really. At least, that's as much as I want to remember. Hey, have you thought about how this might affect the others here?'

‘What do you mean?'

‘If word gets out that they've bent the rules for you … I mean, what if others thought they could do it too?'

‘People like you?'

Ben shook his head. ‘I told you, I'm staying. I've made my choice.'

‘Yes, but it's a choice you wish you hadn't made, like me!'

‘But you can go back and make it right. I don't think I ever can.'

‘Sure you can! You could go back and—' Edsel was interrupted by another knock at the door.

‘That was quick,' Ben said. ‘It's Man again.'

Sure enough, the figure in the silver suit was waiting in the hallway. ‘Armandine, comma, Robert,' he said.

‘What happened to Jacq? To Graves, comma, Jacqueline?'

‘I can't tell you that,' Man replied. ‘Please, come immediately, with your copy of the Charter of Verdada. Richard is waiting.'

Ben held out his hand, which Edsel shook. ‘If this is it, Edsel, it's been a pleasure.'

‘Thank you for your help. I hope I'll see you again, Ben.'

‘Maybe.'

‘You shouldn't be afraid to try and get back.'

‘It's comfortable here. I know my way around, even without eyes.'

‘You could learn your way around back there as well. Hey, can you do me another favour? Can you make sure Toby looks after Bob?'

‘Sure.' Ben smiled then, and turned his eyes towards the window. ‘You'd better go,' he said. ‘They're waiting.'

The turret room at the top of the Hub was dimly lit, with the windows blacked out like soot. Richard was already there, waiting on one of the couches. He didn't look up as Edsel entered but simply said, ‘Please, sit down.'

Swallowing hard, Edsel sat, and heard the door close behind him.

‘Richard, about Jacq …'

‘I can't tell you,' Richard replied.

‘Because you don't know?'

‘Oh, I know, Robert. But I can't tell you.'

‘Okay, but can you just tell me this much: is she safe?'

‘Her journey was peaceful and not at all traumatic.'

Edsel sighed with relief. ‘Oh, that's good.'

‘We do hope you appreciate what she did.'

‘I do,' Edsel replied. ‘I really do. And the Mira. Is it possible to thank them?'

‘Personally?' said Richard. ‘Oh no, they show themselves very rarely. No, you shan't see them again. But I'll be sure to pass on your thanks. And now there's only one thing left to do.' He leaned forward and picked up an orange envelope from the chest between them and handed it to Edsel. It had a large number
4
on the front. ‘Open the envelope, Robert.'

Edsel opened one end and slipped out a card from within. To one corner was pinned a photo of himself, and some text was printed on the card.

1 × boy, Robert Henry Armandine. Generally good health, alert mind. Last seen: front garden of 58 Bland Street, West Malaise. Required for: being a son, Edsel, to Barry and Tilda Grizzler, of the same address.

Recommendations:

□ 
Return to place last seen, pending steps retraced

□ 
Move to place least likely

□ 
Retain and store for later re-evaluation

□ 
Reassign to alternative location/owner

□ 
Remove completely and destroy

□ 
Other

Edsel felt tears pricking at the backs of his eyes as he looked up at Richard. ‘It's me,' he said.

‘It is. I apologise that we have to do it the old-fashioned way, with the card and the pencil, but there is no procedure in place within our system to allow what you and your friend proposed.'

‘I see.'

‘No, you don't. There's a pencil on the table in front of you.'

Edsel picked up the pencil. ‘Now?'

‘Is there anything else you need to do?'

Edsel shook his head.

‘Then tick the appropriate box. And remember—'

‘I know – there's no coming back.'

‘Tick the box.'

And with a deeply held breath, Edsel took the pencil, rested its tip in the square beside
Return to place last seen, pending steps retraced,
and made a tick.

He let his breath out all in one rush. ‘Done,' he said.

Richard reached out for the card, then turned it over, glanced at it, and laid it on the top of the chest. ‘Very good. So it's done. Did you bring the Charter?'

‘Here.' Edsel placed it on the chest, next to the card.

‘Thank you,' Richard said. ‘Now, it's important that you stay seated until the procedure is over.'

‘Procedure?'

‘It will be peaceful. And not at all traumatic.' Reaching into his coat pocket, Richard handed Edsel a pair of sunglasses. ‘And you might want to put these on – they're your father's, so make sure he gets them when you return.'

‘Um, what about the egg thing I came in?'

‘You shouldn't question our science. You're perfectly safe, provided you remain seated. Goodbye, Robert. I wish you all the best.'

Richard stood, turned and walked to the door, went through it, and as he kept walking, the door closed behind him. With the closing door came a deep, opaque darkness, and Edsel sat still, as he'd been instructed to do, trying to penetrate the blackness with his eyes.

Without any warning, there was a sudden blue flash, so bright that Edsel couldn't see anything in the room, or around him at all. In fact, it was as if he'd gone blind, and at that moment he thought of Ben.

But then, gradually, his vision began to clear, and into his field of view appeared a joystick and a green button, and beyond that a shiny, clear surface, and beyond that a hedge, and lawn, and a letterbox, and a house, and a big, ugly, blue butterfly beside a security-mesh screen door.

Edsel was home.

E
dsel stood in the middle of his front yard and looked around. He noticed for the first time that it was early spring, and that some of the shrubs in the garden were beginning to burst into bloom, as bees nosed about for nectar. And even though it was late afternoon and a very light breeze was blowing, his shoulders and face felt pleasantly warm. Next he looked at the butterfly beside the front door, and decided that it really was a very vivid and quite lovely shade of blue, even if it was huge, and quite ugly, and painted in a colour he felt sure appeared nowhere in nature. Perhaps this wasn't such a terrible place to live after all.

From the kitchen drifted the warm smell of baking bread, and Edsel knew that he would soon be eating thick hot slices of bread with melty butter spread on them. His mouth was already watering at the thought.

He knew what he had to do, and stirring himself into action, he dashed upstairs, grabbed some money out of his little cash box and stuffed it into his pocket. Then he was back downstairs and getting his bike from the garage. As he pulled on his helmet and fastened the chin strap, a thought of Jacq ran down the side of his mind, like a cheese-grater on knuckles. But he pushed the thought away as he climbed onto his bike and headed for Mr Waldon's corner shop.

‘Hello, Edsel,' Mr Waldon said as Edsel charged through the door.

‘What day is it?'

Mr Waldon frowned. ‘It's Friday, and I'm about to close up. Why?'

‘Friday. Good. I need some flowers,' Edsel panted.

‘I don't have any cheapies today,' Mr Waldon said. ‘As you can see, they're all still in good condition.'

‘That's okay. I want the best ones you've got. And lots of them.'

Mr Waldon raised his eyebrows. ‘Fair enough,' he said, taking Edsel's money and holding out the change.

Edsel waved it away. ‘Keep it,' he said. ‘Bye – I've got some flowers to deliver.'

Mum narrowed her eyes when Edsel poked the huge bunch of flowers under her nose.
‘More
flowers? What have you done?' she asked suspiciously.

‘Nothing, Mum, honest. It's just that you seemed to really like those roses I bought you the other day. So I got you another bunch.'

‘Oh, Edsel, that's so thoughtful!' Mrs Grizzler's face changed from a suspicious frown into a warm smile.

‘And I missed you today, as well,' Edsel added.

Now his mother was starting to cry. ‘Let me cut you some bread,' she said. ‘It's still hot.'

‘Thanks, Mum, that'd be nice. I'll be back to get it in a couple of minutes.'

‘Where are you going now?'

‘Don't worry about it.'

‘I need to know.'

Edsel sighed. ‘I'm just going over to see Kenny. I'll be careful crossing the road.' If only she knew where else I'd been, he thought.

He went back outside and looked at the Egg. It was such a wonderful thing, such a wonderful mysterious thing, but he knew what he should do. He half carried, half dragged the Egg across the street to Kenny's front garden. Then he rang the doorbell.

Kenny answered the door, only speaking through the crack. ‘Oh, it's you. What do you want?' he asked, his voice tense, maybe even a little afraid.

‘I've been there too,' Edsel answered. ‘I know all about the bright flash, and the round grey room, and the creepy guy in the silver suit, and … well, everything.'

‘So?' Kenny replied. ‘I've been trying to forget about it. It was awful and freaky. I still think you tried to kill me.'

‘I didn't, honestly. And I'm so sorry it happened. It was an accident, and it won't happen again. The Egg's safe now. And I'd like you to have it.'

‘Have what?'

‘The Egg, or the spaceship, or whatever it is. I want you to have it. The little kids love playing in it, and they'll give you heaps of money. You might have some trouble getting Hoagy to have another go, but all the others will still want to.'

Kenny narrowed his eyes, just like Mum had done. ‘Are you trying to trick me?' he asked.

Edsel shook his head. ‘No, honestly I'm not,' he said. ‘It's just that it looks like I might be a bit busy for a while, and I won't have time to take all that money and sell drinks and all that. So I want you to have it.'

Kenny opened the door a little wider and peered out at the Egg, as if he expected it to explode or something. ‘All right, leave it there and I'll think about it,' he said. ‘But if anything weird happens, I'll deck you at school tomorrow.'

‘Cool,' Edsel replied. ‘But good luck with that, since tomorrow's Saturday.'

‘Monday, then.'

‘No worries. See you,' said Edsel, and as he walked past the Egg, he reached into the cockpit and pulled the white plug from the dash.

Next he walked the short distance up the street to the Wendl house. He rang the front doorbell and waited. After a minute or so, Mrs Wendl opened the door and frowned down at him. ‘Yes?'

‘Could I talk to Hoagy?' he asked.

Mrs Wendl folded her arms and shook her head. ‘He's in the bath.'

‘Can you give him a message, then? Can you tell him that I'm really sorry about what happened?'

‘I'll tell him.'

‘And tell him that the spaceship is at Kenny's house now. I don't have it anymore.'

‘All right. Is that everything?'

‘Yes, that's everything. Just that I'm sorry. I'm sorry to you too. I didn't mean to scare him.'

‘Okay. Thank you, Edsel. Goodbye.' And before Edsel could say another word, the door had been closed in his face.

It was beginning to get dark now, and as Edsel reached the top of his driveway, he could see light coming through the crack under the garage roller-door. He lifted the door up just enough to slip underneath. His father was bent over the fender of the old car, and as he worked, he was humming along to the radio.

‘Hey, Dad,' Edsel said, and his father turned to look at him.

‘What is it, son? What's wrong? Is everything all right?'

‘Nothing's wrong. I just wanted to tell you that I found these,' he said, holding out the sunglasses.

Straightening up, Dad took them. ‘Thanks! Where were they?'

‘Just lying around. Dad?'

‘What is it?'

‘Do you need any help? With the car, I mean.'

For the fifth time that afternoon, Edsel saw someone narrow their eyes and stare at him suspiciously. ‘You're offering to help me fix up the old girl?'

‘Sure. If you want me to, that is. I'll be careful not to hurt myself. I think I'm old enough to help you work on a car.'

Dad laid the sunglasses gently on the roof of the old car. Then, after a moment, he gave a quick nod. ‘Yeah, all right. I've put some bearings over there on the bench,' he said, pointing. ‘If you really want to help, you can grab that can of solvent there and give them a good clean. There's a brush on that shelf above your head. Just be careful of the—'

‘Of the fumes. I know.'

‘Son, this workshop is full of things that can hurt you.'

‘I know, Dad. I'm sorry.'

‘We don't want you to get hurt.'

‘I know.'

‘Maybe it's too soon. Maybe you should watch for a while, just until you start to learn some of the safety stuff—'

‘Dad. It's fine. I'll be all right.'

‘Okay. Okay. Have you got enough light over there?'

‘Yeah, I'm fine.'

‘Because you can go blind from working in light that's too dim.'

‘Are you sure about that, Dad?'

His father frowned at him. ‘How many blind people do you know, Edsel?'

‘Enough,' Edsel replied, turning his body slightly so he had more light to work by. Then, with his father satisfied that he had sufficient light, he started cleaning the bearings.

And with the music turned down just a little, and stopping occasionally to eat the warm bread and butter and honey Mum had brought out to them, Edsel and his dad talked about school, and work, and riding unicycles, and about cars, and knicks and knacks, and whether the 1958 Ford Edsel Corsair was a better model than the 1959. ‘Because this one is a '58,' Dad said, patting his car affectionately. ‘And I still think it's the best. I don't know who owned this one first but I'm sure glad I found it.'

And when he thought about it, Edsel had to agree.