Lullaby

Authors: Bernard Beckett

PRAISE FOR BERNARD BECKETT AND
GENESIS

âWarning: This book may change your life!...the idea of everything will be thrown
into doubt and profound uncertainty.'
Guardian

âSophisticated sci-fi that explores thorny issues in philosophy and scienceâ¦Beckett
presents a series of philosophical conundrums with lucid and penetrating intelligence,
and weaves them into a bleak but compelling futuristic vision.'
Age

âBeckett accelerates the pace and heightens the tension until his narrative reaches
a conclusion so shocking, it's like a blow to the head.'
Weekend Australian

âHighly original...It gripped me like a vice.' Jonathan Stroud

âAnaximanda is a brilliant creation.'
New Zealand Books

âThis is a story rich in resonance and more than a few good plot twists.'
Courier-Mail

âAn intricate enquiry into the nature of human consciousness and artificial intelligence.'
Financial Times

âBeckett raises enough philosophical questions to keep an intelligent reader thinking
for weeks.'
Independent on Sunday

âA thriller, with secrets uncovered and a brilliant twist. It's a novel that will
make clever teenagers cleverer still.'
Scotsman

PRAISE FOR BERNARD BECKETT AND
AUGUST

â
August
is a remarkable novel, a powerful creation of an alternate universeâ¦it shows
Bernard Beckett at the height of his storytelling powers.'
Magpies

âStunning and beguilingâ¦This is superb fictionâthoughtful, clear, well-written and
engrossingâ¦ Beckett's characterisation, as ever, is sharpâ¦
August
is compelling, fascinating
and very thought-provoking.'
Sunday Star Times

âEnthrallingâ¦clever, compelling, at times edge-of-your-seat stuffâ¦it is easy to stay
absorbed until the last word.'
Courier-Mail

âAn intense, intelligent novelâ¦If you want a cleverly written character narrative
underpinned by serious theological considerations and a dystopian dysfunctional
theocracy,
August
is the book for you.'
Listener

âA compelling story about freedom, love and destinyâ¦ a fascinating exploration of
what it means to have free will and to live fully in the moment.'
Herald Sun

âUnlike any teen thriller I have ever readâ¦Bernard Beckett has cleverly plotted his
novel, and the moments in the car wreck made the book impossible to put downâ¦full
of unpredictable twists and turns. The underlying menace in
August
makes it a gripping
read.'
Guardian

âThis is clever, provocative, intriguing stuff.' Adelaide
Advertiser

OTHER TITLES BY BERNARD BECKETT

Lester

Red Cliff

Joltâ
finalist 2002 NZ Post Book Awards

No Alarms

Home Boys

Malcolm and Julietâ
winner 2007 NZ Post Book Award; winner 2005 Esther Glen Award

Deep Fried
(with Clare Knighton)âfinalist NZ Post Book Awards

Genesisâ
winner 2010 young adult category of the Prix SorciÃ¨res, France; winner 2007
Esther Glen Award; winner 2007 NZ Post Book Awards

Falling for Science: Asking the Big Questions

Acid Song

August

Bernard Beckett is a multi-award-winning author of books for adults and young adults
and one of New Zealand's most outstanding writers. He lives near Wellington with
his wife and two sons.

bernardbeckett.wordpress.com

textpublishing.com.au

The Text Publishing Company

Swann House

22 William Street

Melbourne Victoria 3000

Australia

The moral right of Bernard Beckett to be identified as the author of this work has
been asserted.

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright above, no part of
this publication shall be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system,
or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording or otherwise), without the prior permission of both the copyright owner
and the publisher of this book.

First published by The Text Publishing Company 2015

Design by W. H. Chong

Typeset by Text

National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication

Creator: Beckett, Bernard, 1968â author.

Title: Lullaby / by Bernard Beckett.

ISBN: 9781922182753 (paperback)

9781925095678 (ebook)

Target Audience: For young adults.

Subjects: Suspense fiction.

TwinsâFiction.

Dewey Number: NZ823.2

This book was started during my time as Writer in Residence at Victoria University. Thanks to Creative New Zealand and the International Institute of Modern Letters
for their support.

Contents

I remember the machine by his bed. It made a sound like sighing. Numbers twitched,
unable to settle. A jagged line sawed across the screen. At least it was something
to look at. Something that wasn't him. They'd brushed his hair, as if he were already
dead. A song came into my head, I couldn't chase it away. âGirlfriend in a Coma'
.
I pretended to smile, pretended to be brave. Twin brother in a coma, I mouthed, I
know it's serious. He would have laughed. He would have been better at this.

âMaybe you'd like some time alone with him,' the doctor had said. I knew it would
be like this, not knowing what to do or say, stranded. Watching his ventilator fog
up every time he exhaled, humming some stupid song our grandfather used to sing.

âHi.' She stood at the open door. âI'm Maggie.'

âRene,' I said. âThis is my brother.' I pointed. âHe's pleased to meet you.' Still
trying to impress. How far gone do you have to be, before that stops?

âI'm a psychologist here at the hospital, did the doctor explain?'

I nodded.

He'd talked, I'd listened. His words had been lost in the fog.

âSo, when you're ready, there'll be some questions we need toâ'

âI'm ready.' Probably I shrugged. I don't remember.

Maggie held the door open.

âCan't we just do it here?' I asked.

âIt's best we go to my office.'

Her voice was gentle. It wouldn't last. Her hair was pulled back so tightly it must
have hurt. I wondered if she really needed her glasses. She was watching, to see
how I'd say goodbye. The interview had already started.

I shuffled closer to the bed and took Theo's hand in mine, tried to pretend the warmth
of his flesh didn't shock me. I leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead, whispered
âWish it was me.'
I didn't mean it. I almost broke, but didn't. Couldn't.

Maggie's office was cool and sharp after the humidity of the ward. It suited her.
Her blouse was off-white, her hair was as dark as her eyes. I looked at her elbows.
The skin there droops as you age, there's no way of hiding it. Theo told me that.
Hers were tight, youthful. A small ear piece sat unobtrusive behind a stray strand
of hair, filling her head with unseen voices. There was a framed diploma on her wall,
telling the world she knew how young she looked, how unlikely. I was offended that
they'd give me someone just starting out. When your world is falling apart, you want
it to at least feel important.

âI'd like to start by talking about your past.'

Maggie's chair had been pulled in front of her desk, angled to mine. If I'd stretched
out my leg, it would have touched her knee. Her legs were crossed, one foot tucked
behind the calf, the way boys can't.

âHow far into the past?' I asked her.

âHow about the beginning?'

âI don't remember the beginning. I think they had to pull us out. I imagine there
was screaming.'

I was nervous.

âYou don't have to try to impress me.'

Her words were carefully formed, every sound in its place, as if she had trained
for the stage.

âYou know why we have to do this, don't you?'

âOf course I do,' I said.

âSo tell me.'

âIt's a big decision. You have to make sure I've thought it through.'

That much I understood.

âYou understand the nature of your brother's injuries?'

âHe's fried.' Covering up, the only way I knew how.

âThe electricity massively disrupted his brain function. It was thirty minutes before
he got here.'

âI know, Iâ'

âHis body, howeverâ¦'

She talked over me. She had a job to do, and only six hours to get it done. Any longer
than that, and it wouldn't matter what I decided.

âHis body, however, is entirely unaffected. Physically, he's as healthy as you or
I. But his brainâ'

âIs fried.'

She unfolded her legs, brought her hands together on her lap, and looked at me.

âI've read your manuscript. I know you're clever. But I'm not your professor. I'm
not your girlfriend. I'm not here to grade your wit. My job is to assess your state
of mind. Why not help me?'

Because I don't know how, I thought. Because right now I feel more alone than I ever
knew I could feel, and the only thing there is left to care about is this. But I
don't know what it is you're looking for, and you're not allowed to tell me, so I'm
just trying not to say the wrong thing, and that means trying to avoid the questions
you need me to answer. Because this is impossible.

I shrugged. I think she understood.

âPeople must have told you things, your parents for instance, about how they found
it, having twins. You were their only children, is that right?'

âThere'd been an earlier pregnancy, I think.' Talking about other people was easier.
âOur mother had a miscarriage.'

âDo you always do that?'

âWhat?'

âSay our mother, instead of my mother. Did you notice?'

âDon't tell me that,' I said.

âWhat?'

âDon't tell me when you're working things out.'

Her stare was unblinking. She would have been the most terrifying date. And men would
have tried.

âAnd after the miscarriage?'

âShe was told to wait,' I said.