CHERUB: People's Republic (35 page)

After the biopsy, Carlos and Ning had full body X-rays to determine any skeletal defects, then they were wired up with heart monitors, fitted with breathing masks and given a treadmill workout to test their heart and lung capacities.

The speed at which you recover from a bout of exercise is a key sign of your fitness levels, so Ning and Carlos still had the heart monitors attached as Dr Kessler disappeared to his lab and gave them a chance to rest.

Ning wasn’t as fit as she’d been when she lived at the sports academy, but she was still a natural athlete and recovered well. Carlos on the other hand was gasping and kept rubbing the plaster stuck to his thigh.

‘If you scratch you’ll make it worse,’ Ning said.

‘What do you know?’ Carlos said. ‘And why do you speak with such a stupid accent?’

The girls at Kirkcaldy had taken the mickey out of Ning’s Sino-Scouse accent and she’d grown self-conscious about people thinking she sounded stupid every time she opened her mouth.

‘I’ve had muscle biopsies when I was at a sporting academy in China,’ Ning explained. ‘If you scratch, it will start bleeding again.’

Lottie the nurse dropped by with cups of water, which they both downed quickly. Ning threw her empty cup at the recycling bin, but it bounced off the rim. Carlos approached to dispose of his own cup as Ning bent over to pick hers up, but made a retching sound and shot a torrent of puke down the back of Ning’s shirt and trousers.

‘Aww, bloody hell,’ Ning shouted angrily, as Carlos staggered off to the other side of the room and broke into a coughing fit.

Ning didn’t know whether to clean up or help Carlos first.

‘Nurse,’ Ning shouted, as she spotted a dispenser filled with paper towels.

Lottie comforted Carlos and gave him water to wash his mouth out as Ning did the best job she could cleaning off the back of her T-shirt and trousers.

‘Is there anywhere I can get a clean set?’ Ning asked. ‘Can I run back to the main building, I know there’s a uniform store somewhere?’

‘I’m sorry, but I can’t authorise you to leave during recruitment testing,’ Lottie said. ‘Please sit still, the heart monitors are supposed to be measuring your recovery time.’

Ning felt sorry for Carlos, but at the same time she was angry with him because there were a million places where he could have thrown up without hitting her.

Now that medical procedures were over, chairwoman Zara Asker would conduct the rest of the tests.

‘I’ve got three kids and they’ve all thrown up on me dozens of times,’ Zara told Ning when she arrived. ‘We need to get to the dojo and I’m not taking a twenty-minute diversion just because you’ve got a little wet patch on your trousers.’

Ning felt miserable as she followed Zara through light drizzle towards the dojo. Carlos was still fighting for breath and twice Zara turned back and yelled at him to keep up. The chairwoman had seemed much nicer the previous afternoon and Ning guessed Zara was just having a bad day.

The martial arts dojo was one of the swankier buildings on CHERUB campus. The construction cost had been donated by the Japanese government after a CHERUB operation infiltrated a Russian spy syndicate stealing valuable Japanese technology.

It was built in traditional Japanese style, with a vaulted roof shaped from huge single-trunk beams. Outside was a traditional Japanese rock garden and a carp pond spanned by a wooden bridge. The inside was more functional, and apart from the spectacular roof, could have been any modern gymnasium, with banks of fluorescent lights and a hum from the ventilation system.

After leaving shoes and socks outside on a porch, Ning, Carlos and Zara crossed springy blue matting in the main part of the gym. You’d usually see Miss Takada teaching martial arts here, but presently a group of cherubs in their late teens had a ghetto blaster pumping out an old show tune as they practised a dance routine.

A sliding screen took them through to a side room which had a square of red matting in the centre and wooden benches around the edge. Two sets of safety gear had been left in the middle of the floor: lightly padded martial arts gloves, gum shields, head protectors and a protective cup for Carlos.

‘The rules are simple,’ Zara said. ‘Use any technique to floor your opponent, except kicks to the genitals, jaw wrenching or eye gouging. It’s five rounds, first to get three submissions wins.’

Ning looked awkwardly at Zara, as Carlos tried to figure out how to properly tighten the Velcro straps on his padded gloves.

‘Amy wrote a file on me,’ Ning said. ‘I don’t know if you read it, but I’ve done a
lot
of boxing and Carlos is way below my weight class.’

‘Of course I read your file,’ Zara snapped. ‘But who says getting into CHERUB is easy? If Carlos is small and skinny in here, he won’t suddenly get big and strong on an undercover mission, will he?’

Ning wondered about Zara acting so differently to how she’d been the previous afternoon. Ryan had refused to give any details on the recruitment tests, but he’d hinted that she should expect the unexpected. As Ning pulled on her headgear she wondered if Zara’s mood was a deliberate way to make her feel uneasy.

‘Line up,’ the chairwoman said sharply.

But Carlos hadn’t mastered his combat gloves and Zara tutted impatiently as she fixed the Velcro straps for him.

‘Touch gloves and fight.’

Carlos moved aggressively, swinging wild fists and making a few soft contacts with Ning’s shoulders. But he had no idea what he was doing and Ning could have planted a brutal fist in his face any time she liked.

As Ning backed up Carlos almost did for himself, coming off balance with his own swinging fist. Ning saw the opportunity to floor him without serious damage and swept his feet away. Carlos hit the mat hard and Ning straddled his back.

‘Give up,’ Ning said, as she sat on Carlos’ back.

It’s tough to speak with gum shields in, but whatever Carlos said wasn’t polite and he kept wriggling even though his situation was hopeless. Ning didn’t want to hurt Carlos, but she needed to do something extra to make him submit, so she put her hand on to his shoulder and dug her thumb into his armpit.

‘Oww,’ Carlos yelled. ‘I submit.’

Carlos steamed as he stood up and shouted like a spoiled brat, ‘That wasn’t fair. I tripped.’

Ning couldn’t help but laugh. ‘I thought you didn’t believe in luck.’

‘Get your gum shields back in,’ Zara said firmly. ‘Line up, touch gloves.’

Carlos had nothing in his tactical arsenal beyond the wild swinging thing. But he didn’t trip this time, so Ning moved in and gave him a fairly gentle punch in the face, hoping it would be enough to knock him back without hurting his nose. To Ning’s surprise, Carlos’ legs went wobbly for about half a second, but as she backed off Carlos charged again. She shoved him backwards, but not before he’d caught her with a heel in the stomach.

Unfortunately for Carlos, it was only enough pain to make Ning angry. She ducked into a proper boxing stance for the first time and threw three quick punches. The first to the head knocked Carlos backwards, the second to the gut doubled him over and the third pounded the side of his ribcage and left him sprawling on the mat.

Carlos had landed face down, but he soon rolled on to his back and made a high-pitched wailing noise.

‘I’m sorry,’ Ning said, as she rushed over. ‘There’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’ve always been strong and I’ve won medals for boxing.’

Carlos had this weird expression and Ning backed off because she thought he might puke again. She turned to face Zara.

‘What’s the point of this?’ Ning asked. ‘All it proves is that an experienced twelve-year-old boxer can batter a skinny ten-year-old. That’s hardly a big surprise.’

Zara eyeballed Ning. ‘Maybe
you
should remember who you’re talking to and follow the rules.’

Ning bristled. She’d woken up that morning thinking she’d found a place where she wanted to be, but now she was facing a strict teacher laying down stupid rules and telling her to remember her place, exactly like school in China.

Ning trembled as thoughts raced through her head.

‘I’m not hurting Carlos again,’ she said, as she ripped off a glove and threw it down. ‘I submit three times, so Carlos wins three to two. Just hope I’ll do better on the next test.’

Zara took a long slow breath before nodding. ‘Fine, Carlos wins.’

Ning had expected Carlos to show gratitude, but he instantly leapt up off the floor and started jumping around shouting, ‘I win, I win. In your face!’

‘Aww, give over,’ Ning said irritably. ‘You didn’t even know how to put the damned gloves on.’

‘The next stage tests your brainpower,’ Zara said. ‘A simple written exam, testing mathematical abilities, language skills and general knowledge. You’ll have ninety minutes and I expect you to complete it while sitting in
complete
silence.’

*

It took Amy and Ryan an hour to make up a list of eighteen companies that produced the majority of Britain’s printed team kits. By the time they’d finished, Ryan’s mates Max and Alfie had been roped in and Amy divided the list so they each had four or five companies to call up.

The team of four used the six desks in the control areas to make their calls. They each started by calling the phone number on the company’s website. Ryan’s first call was to a company called Kitmeister UK.

After listening to an
open Monday to Friday
recorded message, he started looking up the names of company directors. Then he accessed mobile phone network databases and got the number for half a dozen mobile phones whose bills were paid by Kitmeister UK. He was about to start dialling them in turn, when Amy approached.

‘Think of it like cracking nuts,’ she said. ‘Deal with the easy ones first, and return to the tough buggers if you need to later.’

It was Max who made the first breakthrough. He waited for everyone to finish the call they were making before explaining his scribbled notes.

‘I called Matthews & Son,’ Max explained. ‘It took about six attempts to explain what I was asking for, but the receptionist put me through to this old-timer. He sounded doddery, but he’s been in the kit business over forty years and he definitely knew his stuff.

‘He says that basic kits without logos are produced by several different manufacturers, and then customised with sponsors’ logos and player numbers by companies like his. He reckons that none of the big name manufacturers currently make an orange and maroon hooped sock. The only one that does is a Taiwanese kit producer called SoccaAce.

‘He says he wouldn’t sell SoccaAce because their stuff is
cheap for a good reason
. He also said that there are only two companies he knows who do print on SoccaAce kits. One is called Oberon Sports, the other is Kitmeister UK. He’s really got it in for Kitmeister. Apparently they’re the biggest company in the market, but their quality is poor and their customer service is appalling.’

‘Nice one, Max,’ Amy said, as she cracked a big smile.

‘Did I earn a kiss?’ Max asked cheekily, as he leaned back in his chair.

Amy laughed and gave him a peck on the cheek.

‘Eww,’ Ryan said. ‘Have you any idea where he’s been?’

45. PAPERS

Ning’s exam took place in an empty office on the ground floor of the main building. The door was left ajar so that Zara’s assistant could keep watch as the potential recruits worked at small wooden desks.

Ning had taken exams or practice exams at least twice a week at school in Dandong, during which she’d developed a routine of quickly checking through the entire paper before starting work. It didn’t take a genius to work out that it would take way more than ninety minutes to complete the whole paper, so she noted the questions offering the highest marks and targeted those first.

Carlos’ attitude seemed more relaxed and he drove Ning mad by rustling his paper, humming and drumming his pencil on the desk. After twenty minutes Ning was starting to wish she’d knocked him out in the dojo.

She finally snapped when Carlos started putting his finger in his mouth making pop noises.

‘Will you shut up,’ she said, in an angry whisper.

Zara’s assistant overheard. She came out from behind her desk and stood in the doorway wagging her finger.

‘One more sound, young lady, I’ll take that paper from you and tear it up.’

To make matters worse the lead inside Ning’s pencil kept breaking and she had to keep stopping to sharpen it. But for all the frustrations, Ning didn’t feel she’d done too badly when Zara came to collect the papers.

The chairwoman had entered the office holding a metal cage covered with a checked cloth. Removing it revealed two fluffy white rabbits.

‘Meet Duster and Bouncer,’ Zara said, as she pulled a carrot stick out of her pocket and fed an eager bunny through the bars of the cage. ‘Aren’t they sweet?’

The rabbits were cute and Ning crouched in front of the cage to look at them.

‘Can I feed them?’ Carlos asked, and Zara handed him a carrot stick.