Edsel Grizzler (18 page)

‘S
it, Robert. Please.'

After he'd watched Edsel take his seat, Richard turned, walked to one of the windows and stood there, looking down on the lawns, with his hands loosely folded behind his back. ‘It's so peaceful, don't you think?'

‘Sure, I guess.'

‘You
guess?
No, Robert, you
know
it's peaceful. Or at least, it
was
peaceful, until someone started to stir things up.' Richard turned slowly, his eyes stern. ‘By someone, I mean
you,
Robert, just in case I wasn't being clear.'

‘I'm not trying to stir things up,' Edsel said. ‘I promise.'

‘You might not be trying to, but you're certainly succeeding. Is that what you want – to cause trouble? To wreak havoc in Verdada? To ruin the natural order of things?'

‘Of course not. I just—'

Richard cut him off. ‘You see, Robert, Verdada is a delicately balanced place. In fact, it's not just Verdada that's finely balanced.
Everything
is balanced – we call it equilibrium.'

‘I read about that,' Edsel said. ‘It's in the Charter.'

‘Indeed it is. You see, there's loss in life, and there's loss in spirit. Verdada deals with loss in spirit.'

Edsel looked blankly at him. ‘I thought Verdada dealt with lost things.'

‘Let me try to explain it more clearly than it's explained in the Charter. If someone from the place you once called “home” dies – you call it “lost”, but I think you'll now agree that using that word isn't entirely accurate – they have to go somewhere, don't they? Do you agree?'

‘I guess.'

‘But they don't come here. No, they go somewhere altogether different. I can't tell you anything about that place right now, but you should know that it's far from here.'

‘You can't even tell me what it's called? Not even now?'

Richard shook his head. ‘No. But when someone dies, and goes to that place, a new life begins back in the place you called “Home”. One dies, another is born. Equilibrium, you see.'

‘But the earth's population is increasing,' Edsel said.

‘Is it? How do you know?'

‘I read it once … I think.'

‘Well, there's some catching up to be done, and some preparation required for the future, but that's getting more complicated than we need to be right now. The point is that there's a balance. And if people from Verdada start questioning that balance, we're in all sorts of trouble.'

‘I just want to understand,' Edsel said.

‘Of course you do – that's only natural. But if what I heard you say to the others just a moment ago is accurate, you'd also like to go home.'

‘Yes, I think I would.'

‘You want that more than anything else, don't you?'

‘Yes.'

‘Do I need to remind you of what you said? You made a promise. A promise to stay. You're marked, here,' he said, pointing to his own forearm.

‘Maybe I am, but now I've changed my mind. And I don't think it's fair, the way it's worked out. You trapped me. You trapped all of us. You told us we had a choice, but really it's no choice at all.'

Richard sat down, speaking with unsettling calmness. ‘My boy, for some it is a choice. I know you're familiar with a boy called Kasep. Those scars across his face, and on his body – you don't know where those scars came from, do you?'

Edsel shook his head.

‘Terrible, terrible horrors. The kind of horrors that you, from your safe, boring, suburban street, can't even begin to imagine. Why would
he
want to go home?'

‘But it's still his home,' Edsel said.

Richard's voice was still calm. ‘No, it's not, Robert, because he has no home to return to. Or a family. Neither does Hashim. But do you know what their greatest wish was when they came here? It was to sleep safely at night, and to have a full belly, and never to be afraid again. And there are many, many others like them. Too many.'

‘Where?' Edsel asked. ‘Where are they?'

Richard chuckled. ‘Do you really believe that this is the only place where lost children go? I could show you places where there are many, many children like Kasep and Hashim. Children whose homes are gone, families are gone, whole villages, towns, cities destroyed or uninhabitable.'

Edsel's voice was low. ‘So show me. Where are these other places? What are they called?'

‘Verdada. They're all called Verdada. They might not be the same place, but they all have the same name, and the same purpose. And most of the people who live in them have no idea that there are others. And they never find out, mostly because they don't bother to ask. They think that they live in the only Verdada, and they're happy to believe that.'

‘And these other Verdadas – are they full of kids like Kasep?'

‘That's right. Children who are happy to stay here, because returning to where they were is no choice at all.'

‘All right, but why are the rest of us punished?'

‘Punished?' Richard looked like he was about to burst out laughing. ‘You're not
punished!
You have everything you could ever need, or want!'

‘Except a family.'

‘If memory serves, you hated the family you lived with.'

‘I don't think I hated them, exactly …' he began, but he knew, down deep, that he wasn't being entirely honest.

‘You despised them, Robert. You loathed the very sight of them, and you felt betrayed by every word that came out of their mouths.'

‘But they were still my family. They were my flesh and blood. Besides, I wasn't lost, like Jacq, and Ben, and Kasep, and all the others. I'm different.'

‘Different?' Richard spat the word out like it was poison. ‘I think I need to show you something.'

With a gesture towards the wall beside the door, a panel opened and a screen appeared silently from within. Richard walked closer, and beckoned Edsel over.

‘Touch the screen,' he said.

‘Why?'

‘Just touch it.'

Edsel did as Richard had suggested, and the screen brightened. Right in the centre was a blue folder icon. And beneath it:
ARM-0364J4
–
CLASSIFIED: DO NOT OPEN.

‘Open it,' Richard instructed.

‘I can't. It says—'

‘You can. You've been cleared, for now. Open it.'

Cautiously, Edsel reached out a finger and touched the icon, and with a tiny blipping sound, it opened to present a screen full of icons, each with a name beneath it. Across the top of the screen were the words
ARMANDINE 0364J4.
‘Now what?'

‘That one,' Richard said, pointing to an icon on the left side of the screen.

‘Robyn Armandine?'

‘Yes. Open it.'

Edsel touched the icon, and a file opened. In the right corner was a photo of a woman, perhaps thirty years old, and pretty. Edsel thought she looked sad. She also looked a little familiar.

‘Who is it?'

‘Read the file,' Richard replied.

Edsel began to read. There was a lot of information about things Robyn had lost in her childhood; when, how and if they'd been returned; and so on. It was all pretty standard stuff, and kind of boring.

‘I don't understand,' Edsel said.

‘Keep reading.'

Then, like a slap across the face, Edsel read a name he recognised. It was under a heading, in bold print, partway down the page listing lost things. The heading said
CHILDREN,
and beneath that, in slightly smaller words that made a greater impact on Edsel than any words he'd ever seen, was a name.

Armandine, Robert.

He blinked, and read it again. ‘Is that … me?'

‘Yes,' answered Richard.

‘I … I don't understand. She lost me?'

‘Read.'

At sixteen years of age, Robyn gave birth to a healthy baby boy, whom she named Robert Henry.

‘I've got a middle name?'

‘Keep reading.'

Due to the absence of the child's father, and an
unsupportive family, Robyn felt the need to hand the baby over for adoption. Through the actions of various government agencies, Robert was adopted by a recently bereaved couple, Barry and Tilda Grizzler.

‘My parents!' Edsel said. ‘So
that's
why you've been calling me Robert?'

‘Yes, it was the name you were first given. But go on – there's a little more to read.'

Despite being offered the opportunity to maintain limited contact with her son, Robyn chose to cut off all ties, a decision which she often regrets.

Under that was a smaller heading:
Outcomes of Arbitrary Assessment.
And then, in flashing red letters:
‘Reassign to alternative location/owner'?

‘It was decided that it would be too painful for your birth mother to return you to her, not to mention the pain to your adoptive parents,' Richard explained.

‘How come you get to choose? Shouldn't that be their choice?'

‘It wasn't a decision we made lightly. But it was, in our opinion, the
best
decision.'

‘We? Who's
we?
Who makes the decision about lost people?'

‘The Mira. They decide, in their wisdom.'

Edsel shook his head, disbelieving. ‘So
that's
how I was lost?'

Richard didn't reply straight away. ‘The first time,' he said after a moment.

‘So there's more? If I touch my name, will it show me my file?'

After a tiny gesture from Richard, the screen sank away into the recess in the wall. ‘You can't see your own file. That's absolutely forbidden.'

‘Why? It's about me.'

Richard shook his head. ‘You can't see anything to do with yourself or your immediate family. Even showing you as much as I just did is beyond what we would normally allow. I'm sorry.'

‘So why did you show me that much?'

‘You told me that your family are your own flesh and blood. But clearly they're not.'

Edsel sank back into the couch. ‘But they feel like it,' he said. ‘They're my family. They
feel
like my flesh and blood. And that's why I want to go home. I want that more than anything. And that's why this is so unfair – what I want more than anything else is exactly what I can't have.'

‘Now
you're getting it.' Richard stepped to the door and opened it. ‘I'm glad we had this talk.'

‘So that's it?'

‘That's it. You understand now.'

‘Do I?'

‘Oh yes, absolutely. Goodbye, Robert.'

‘Goodbye,' Edsel said as he heard the door close behind him.

But he was still confused.

‘I
won't do it,' Ben said, with an emphatic shake of his head. ‘I thought I made it clear that I didn't think you were doing the right thing anyway. And maybe now Richard has talked some sense into you.'

Edsel heaved a sigh. ‘Please? Just this one last time? I have to know.'

Ben turned his head slightly, as if he were glancing towards the kids playing basketball nearby, and lowered his voice. ‘Look, even if I approved, I can't do it. They know now, and they'll be watching me.'

‘Oh, come on, Ben,' Jacq pleaded. ‘Robert's just had this huge bomb dropped on him. Don't you think he deserves to know?'

‘It's not just for me,' Edsel replied. ‘If I've got all this stuff keeping me here, there must be others as well. Other kids who want to go back but are afraid that they can only have one thing or the other. Imagine if you could be part of … of something big! Something huge! Something that Verdada's never seen before!'

‘A mutiny, you mean? What about the balance thing? It's all right there in the last section of the Charter!'

‘Listen, Ben, I'm not asking you to change anything in the file. I just want you to look. I just want to know. I
have
to know.'

‘And what are you going to do with that information once you get it?
If
you get it.'

Edsel shrugged, forgetting for a moment that Ben couldn't see him. ‘I don't know yet.'

‘We could get in so much trouble. They'll know.'

‘If they don't know yet, they won't know later. And if they do know already, then looking again isn't going to make things any worse. Besides, what do they do to people who do the wrong thing?'

‘I don't actually know,' Ben admitted. Then he shook his head. ‘But it doesn't matter, because I'm not doing it.' ‘Ben, what makes you sadder than anything?' Edsel asked.

‘I don't know what you mean.'

‘You told me before that your Desire was revenge, and that's what you got. Doesn't that make you sad, that you wasted a huge opportunity on something like that?'

‘You know it does.'

‘Then this is your chance to do something good, to make things just a tiny bit better, don't you think?'

Ben shook his head once more. ‘I can't …'

‘It would be a brave thing to do,' Jacq said. ‘And wouldn't you love to do something brave?'

Ben took a deep breath, and sighed. His mouth opened, then closed again. Then, at last, he took another deep breath and said, ‘I can't believe I'm saying this, but all right. Meet me in my room in ten minutes.'

When they arrived, Ben's computer screen was already shimmering with the wispy images.

‘Sit down,' he said. ‘And let's try to be quick. Now Robert – I mean Edsel – what's your last name?'

‘My real one, or … the other one?'

‘Your birth name.'

‘Robert Henry Armandine. A-R-M-A-N-D-I-N-E.'

‘Got it. All right, hold on, I'm nearly there. Yes, there it is.'
Tap-tap.
‘Hang on, it's …'
Tap-tap-tap.
‘Right, here it is. You sure you want me to read it to you?'

‘Yes.'

‘Okay, here we go. “At sixteen years of age, Robyn gave birth to a healthy baby boy, whom she named Robert Henry. Due to the absence of the child's father, and an unsupportive family, Robyn felt the need to hand the baby over—” '

‘I already know all that,' Edsel interrupted. ‘Can you skip to the next bit?'

‘You want the most recent stuff? Okay, then I'll just …'
Tap-tap.
‘Okay, here it is. I'll just skip over all the stuff about your brother dying—'

‘Hang on – what?' Edsel said, going hot and cold all at once. ‘I don't have a brother.'

‘No, because he died. It says so right here. “David Grizzler died when he was seven days old, due to birth complications.” Surely you already knew this. It also says that your mother couldn't have any more kids.'

Edsel shook his head. ‘No, you must have the wrong Grizzler family. I don't have a brother. I've never had a brother. My parents have never even
mentioned
another baby.'

‘Are your parents' names Barry and Tilda?'

‘Yes, but—'

‘Who live in Bland Street, West Malaise?'

‘Yes, but—'

‘Edsel, they definitely had a baby. A son. Your brother. David.'

‘What? No, that's not … No. No.'

Jacq rested her hand on Edsel's arm. ‘Are you okay?'

He shook her hand away and stood up. ‘No, I'm not! I found out I was adopted and that's all fine – I can live with that. My mum didn't want me, or couldn't look after me, or whatever, and that's fine too. I understand. But why haven't my parents ever told me about … about
him
? This so-called brother.'

‘There's a file on him, if you want me to go in there,' Ben said.

‘On David? It can't be a very big file.'

‘Shh.' Ben pressed a couple of keys, then tilted his head while he listened to the change in the swirling image. ‘I can't get in,' he said after a while.

‘Why not? It should just say that he died, and that's that. He wasn't even big enough to lose his dummy, was he?'

‘I can't get in because it's under a different system. It's under the … the Infant Reallocation Program.'

‘What's that?'

‘I'm not sure – I've never even heard of it. I guess it's the one that sorts out this whole balance and equilibrium thing. I guess they left that bit out of the Charter. But I can't get into that system anyway. Sorry.'

‘So he might not be dead?'

‘Oh no, it says that he died. And that's why when your parents got you, they were—'

For a moment, Edsel thought that he might throw up. ‘Don't say it,' he said.

Jacq was looking back and forth between Edsel and Ben, confusion creasing her face. ‘Don't say what?'

‘No!' Edsel put his head in his hands and groaned. ‘I'm such a … Oh, I'm such a bad,
bad
person!'

‘Why would you say that?' Jacq asked. ‘I don't understand.'

‘Jacq, I didn't lose anything. It was
me
that was lost. Again. Twice! I was there, but I wasn't really there. It didn't matter what they did, or what they tried to do for me, I wouldn't let them in. They lost me. I was lost
to
them. They wanted a son, and I … I wasn't. Everything they did to try to protect me was just because of their baby who died. They wanted to keep me safe, and all I did was get angry, and push them away, and … and hurt them.'

Jacq looked at the floor. ‘Edsel, I'm so sorry.'

‘Yeah, me too,' said Ben. ‘What are you going to do?'

‘I'm going to go back. Before, when I said I wanted to go back, it was because I was angry about being tricked. But this time I
need
to get back. I'm going to make it right.'

‘How?' Ben asked.

‘You're going to help me,' he said. ‘You have to get into whatever system I'd have to use to reallocate myself. I have to send myself home.'

‘I can't,' Ben replied. ‘I can't get you in. It's not that simple.'

‘There must be a way.'

‘There's not. Seriously, I can't do it. I don't know how.'

‘Maybe you can't help him, but I think I can,' Jacq said. A strange, solemn look had come to her face and, for the first time since he'd met her, Edsel watched her remove her helmet. ‘It's not going to be easy, but I think it can be done.'