The Rainbow Maker's Tale (7 page)

The entrance to Park 42 was
shaded from the bright light of the overhead mirrors by large trees
that grew closely together around the periphery of the recreational
area. Their thick, leaf-laden branches reached high enough that at
pavement level they hid from view the expanse of rocky, rough
terrain that stretched out beyond the secluded entrance. Crossing
the boundary into the park I broke into a gentle jog, and turned
along the familiar path that would lead me to the outlook.

Pumping my arms and legs
rhythmically as I ran, I felt the comforting glow of warmth
spreading through my body, that exercise brought. I concentrated on
my breathing, slowly in through the nose and out through the mouth.
It wasn’t laboured or difficult; each breath brought a new wave of
cooling energy into my body that my mobile limbs transformed into
fuel to keep powering themselves along. The release and freedom of
running made me feel
real
– human even – just as it always
did. What was odd – for me – was that it wasn’t the first time
today that I’d felt this way.

Was Cassie
really
different to everyone else – or was that just what I wanted to
see?

The question began to turn over
in my mind as I continued running. The effect she had on me was
certainly unlike anyone else, but that fact didn’t necessarily make
her special in any way.
Special? No – Attractive? Yes.
I was
beginning to recall why I always tried to stay away from other
people: they only made things confusing for me.

My feet pounded onwards and my
breathing sped up as I ascended the hilly path that would lead me
to the outlook. For now I focused only on moving my arms and legs
and pushed every other distraction away. I was already good at
this, having had a lot of practice at keeping my thoughts to
myself. By the time the path became very steep, and I had to slow
to a halting climb, my brain was comfortably numb and blank.

I sat atop a rocky outcrop; it
had taken me twenty minutes to climb up to this point and it was
worth it. The blank peace I’d been enjoying was fading away now and
my brain was waking up once more. Slowly, conscious thought pushed
its way back into my head forcing me to acknowledge the niggling
questions I had shut out on my climb. But the thoughts were not
overpowering just yet, and I was able to let my mind wander a
little longer.

As I waited I brushed my hands
lightly over the small tufts of grass beside me, prickling my skin
slightly as the blades stabbed upwards at my fingers. It was a
coarse, dry grass that existed here on the rock, unlike the lush
and tended lawns of the other parks. It was the reason I loved this
place. It was one of the things that made it real.

This
grass was a natural
occurrence in the formulaic and manufactured world I existed in and
distrusted so much. The sparse soil pockets that the grass seeds
planted themselves into were not placed on the crevices by design,
but had sprung up over time as the air circulation system of the
station forced minute amounts of dust into the atmosphere of the
Family Quarter. In most places this dust would be invisible where
it settled or was periodically cleaned away, but not up here. There
was no one to clean the dust away here because no one really came
to this park except me. (I’d already made sure of this by checking
the scanner records, once I’d found a way to hack in to the system.
Very few people even ventured into the park, let alone stayed long
enough to indicate they had travelled sufficiently far to reach my
current location). Over time, seeds from the parks and residential
zone lawns must have mingled into the dust and found their way
here. Then they settled themselves into place, to wait for the
opportunity of light and moisture to make them grow. Nature always
finds a way, I mused dreamily. It was a reassuring notion.

My gaze drifted lazily over the
landscape of the Family Quarter spread out before me. Park 42 sat
at the outer edge of the quarter, reportedly close to the external
walls of the space station itself. Not that my calculations on
gravitational pull would support the theory that we would have such
a strong gravitational field on board if the Family Quarter truly
was the largest section of the space station. But, I had no proven
alternative to offer at this point in time, as to what the
alternatives might exist, and so I dismissed the problem, just as I
had many times before.

Up here I could see pretty much
everything, whilst remaining near invisible myself: the rock face
was so similar in colour to the grey external walls at the edges of
the Family Quarter that it blended in almost completely. If I
hadn’t been climbing out here in the park one day – something that
was not permitted due to the dangers it posed – then I probably
would have been ignorant to its existence myself.

There was no denying that the
view was impressive: it was the highest reachable point within the
station. In the distance to the left, my eyes picked out three tall
buildings stretching from the middle of a group of smaller ones,
that made up the main hub at the centre of the Black, Green and
Blue residential zones. The Clinic – where Mother worked – was the
tallest of the three. From here they appeared small and almost
unreal, like a model I might have made and placed on a table to
walk around and peer into, as though I were a giant.

I was no giant. If I had been I
probably would have smashed the towers into pieces, enjoying each
snap and crack as I destroyed another of the symbols of the lies we
were told about ourselves.

How could the others not see
it? This question troubled me now, just as it always did. Was I
more observant than them, or were they just more a part of the
system than I was?

Not for the first time I
considered again whether it was me who was the problem – some
genetic throwback with inherited mental imbalances – I dismissed
that, as usual. I’d already tested myself extensively to see if my
observations were hallucination or paranoia. They were neither.

My thoughts drifted back to the
day I’d found the secondary receiver inside my viewing screen. I
remembered immediately my anger at being proved right once more: we
were being lied to and watched. What was the purpose of it? Surely,
it would only make sense to lie, if there was something to
hide…?

It always surprised me how much
I wanted my research and investigations to prove
me
wrong
and not the system I in lived within.
I
wanted to be the
failure and anomaly, not everyone else. After all, that would be
the easier thing to believe. So far, that had not happened. I had
always been proved right and it had been that way since the first
day I began to suspect. Before I could stop myself, I found I was
tumbling headlong into a memory I usually kept hidden.

* * *

It was Saturday. And I was
happy. There was no school today – my favourite meals were on the
menu for rotation at both lunch and dinner – I’d done all of my
homework – and the door buzzer had just announced that my best
friend, Scarlett, had arrived at our apartment.

“Hello Scarlett,” I heard
Mother’s voice as the door was answered.

“Hi,” Scarlett replied in her
usual cheerful lilt. My face expanded automatically into a wide
grin at the sound.

Scarlett had joined our class
at the start of the year – apparently she’d been a year below us,
but her academic skills were so advanced that they’d moved her into
our year group – it made the class an uneven eleven students, when
they were normally even numbers of boys and girls, but that didn’t
matter really. We’d been placed as partners on some of the team
projects and after doing them so well, had been pretty much
inseparable ever since.

“Hey!” Scarlett greeted me as
she wandered into my bedroom and flopped onto my still unmade
bed.

“Hey,” I nodded in response,
glad when I was reminded of the fact that our relationship was so
easy – so natural.

“So, are we still going to do
what you said today?” Scarlett asked me, absently twirling a sliver
of blonde hair around her finger. Sometimes she looked a lot
younger than seven, but she was still smarter than pretty much
anyone else I knew. It was almost scary.

“Sshhh!” I hissed, trying to
remind her without proper words that this was a secret expedition.
Mother knew we were going to the park – but I didn’t think she’d
approve of the wild-looking one I’d selected. I’d never been to
Park 42 before, but from what I’d seen on the station information
channel it looked perfect for a bit of exploring – almost like a
real place instead of the carefully designed, man-made parks, I’d
spent the rest of my life visiting.

“OK – sorry!” Scarlett shushed
back at me, before whispering her question again. “So, are we?”

I nodded, yes. Then had to
giggle mutely when Scarlett began waving her small hands around in
the air and giving a silent cheer of celebration.

“Do you two want any breakfast
before you leave?” Mother asked politely from the doorway, her head
half-way into the room. Her sudden appearance interrupted my silent
laughter and Scarlett abruptly dropped her arms.

“No thanks, Mother,” I replied
recovering swiftly, “we’re going to grab something on the way to
the park.”

“OK – well make sure you do,”
Mother said, drawing back from the room and heading off in the
direction of the kitchen.

Once Mother’s footsteps had
faded away along the corridor, Scarlett leaned close to me, her
small hand rising up to cover the side of her mouth as she
whispered, not that anyone was watching us now. “Is it still just
us?” she asked.

I nodded once to say
yes
.

“You didn’t ask Cassie then?”
Scarlett sounded a little huffy. “You said you were going to invite
her to join us.”

I didn’t need reminding of the
promise I’d made. For some unknown reason, Scarlett really wanted
to be friends with Cassie.

“I’m sorry – I was going to ask
her,” I said, before Scarlett pulled a face. “I
promise
I
was going to ask. But, it was too difficult – you know how popular
she is – there were always other people there.”

“I don’t know why you’re so
shy,” Scarlett muttered, half to herself, “You should give her a
chance, Cassie would love to be friends with you…and me,” she added
herself as though it was an afterthought.

“I’m sure Cassie’s just dying
to be friends with me, the super-brain!” I shook my head, still
packing up my bag.

“Yes she would. I
know
it.” Scarlett’s normally gentle voice was surprisingly
insistent.

“Yeah, well – it’s not
happening today.”

“You
did
promise,”
Scarlett pouted a little.

“If you care so much, next time
you
ask her to come.” I grumbled in response, my face
screwing into a frown. Why was it such a big deal whether Cassie
came or not? This was supposed to be
our
adventure.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.”
Scarlett apologised when the silence began to stretch out.

“It’s OK, it doesn’t matter.” I
told her truthfully. “And next time, we will ask Cassie, if you
want.” Scarlett smiled at my words. “Just don’t be surprised if she
doesn’t say yes.” I muttered to myself.

“Come on – let’s get going,”
Scarlett said, not hearing my last comment, and bouncing eagerly
from the bed to the door. I paused only to grab my day-sack from
the floor – I’d packed all of our explorer supplies into it – and
followed my friend out of the apartment.

“Check that out!” Scarlett
exclaimed a few steps ahead of me up the hilly path.

Gulping in a deep breath of air
I pulled myself up the last few steps to join her atop the steep
rise we’d just climbed. It was amazing – I’d never been so high up
before and I could see everything inside the space station from
here.

“Slow coach,” Scarlett teased
me, as she took in my ruddy cheeks and heavy breathing. Oddly, she
looked no different at all, as though we’d been for an easy stroll
around Park 23 not trudging up a steep hillside.

“Nothing wrong with me,” I
disagreed, a little testy from having been outdone by a girl who
was younger than me, “you’re not human or something!” I finished,
rather lamely. Scarlett only grinned wider at my words, as though
they had some meaning I didn’t get. I shook the thought away. “So –
what are we looking at do you think?” I asked trying to change the
subject.

Scarlett happily obliged and we
spent the next hour or so pointing out various things of interest
and wondering about what the other quarters might look like, beyond
the grey walls at the edge of the Family Quarter. We broke out the
picnic supplies whilst we talked and munched our way through the
various snacks I’d brought. I noticed that I did most of the
eating: Scarlett was too busy chattering away.

We dropped into a companionable
silence, as we focused on eating over talking. Well, as I focused
on eating …again I noticed that Scarlett hadn’t even touched the
food I’d brought along for her: the small pile beside her remained
intact. Quite abruptly Scarlett disturbed my quiet musings. I
paused mid-chew, hearing the odd tone of her voice. I looked over
but Scarlett didn’t see me – she was staring into the distance,
towards the station wall.

“Have you noticed that?”
Scarlett repeated, curiosity infusing her words.

I turned in the direction she
was pointing. Several feet above us it looked as though the rocky
outcrop disappeared completely and became a part of the station
wall again.

“What – the rocks?” I replied,
unable to work out what had caught her attention.

“No – above the rocks – just
there…” She pointed again, leaning closer to me so that I could
follow the line of her arm.