The Boundless Sublime (21 page)

‘I knew she was struggling,’ he told me that night in my room. I was curled on my bed – he was sprawled on the floor, one elbow propped on his knee. ‘But I never imagined she would try to hurt anyone. It’s awful. I really liked her.’

‘Me too.’

‘We used to talk a lot,’ Fox said. ‘She told me all about her adventures. Places she’d been. People she’d met. I can’t believe she’s really gone.’

‘How often do people leave?’

Fox squirmed uncomfortably. ‘We’re not really supposed to talk about it,’ he said. ‘Daddy is so sad when people leave. He feels like it’s his fault, that he failed them.’

‘But people do leave, right?’

‘Not often. Sometimes people stop taking their supplements, stop following the technic. They get sick and the brain becomes aphotic. Daddy tries to help them, but sometimes it’s too late.’

‘Is that what happened with Maggie? She stopped taking her supplements?’

‘I guess so. I know Daddy had been working very closely with her. She always had doubts – from the very beginning. That’s why she went back to the Red House with us. Daddy
thought she needed a break from the Institute. That it was too much, too soon. I guess he was right.’

I opened my mouth to tell him about my own doubts – about where Maggie had got her black eye, about what Pippa told me had happened in the Sanctum. But I didn’t know where to begin. It was becoming clear to me that Fox didn’t see certain things in the Institute, that there were certain questions he knew not to ask. I didn’t think it was deliberate. It was the only life he knew, and to question it meant potentially destroying the very fabric of his existence.

‘What’s your first memory?’ I asked him instead.

‘Daddy,’ said Fox immediately.

‘You don’t remember anything before the Institute? Where you lived? Your parents?’

‘There was no time before the Institute,’ said Fox. ‘I’ve always been here. First I was a Monkey, and now I’m me.’

‘You know that’s not true,’ I said. ‘You’ve talked about being a kid in the Red House. About Lib reading you stories. Before the thing with the Monkeys.’

‘That doesn’t matter,’ Fox said. ‘None of that is important.’

‘What about the photo?’ I asked. ‘The one of you and your mother.’

‘She isn’t my mother,’ said Fox automatically. ‘I don’t have a mother.’

‘Then why do you carry it around?’

He paused, the lines in his forehead growing deeper. ‘I don’t know,’ he whispered at last. ‘I – I found it. Tucked inside the pages of
Les Miserables
. And as soon as I saw her … I knew her.’

‘So you assumed she was your mother?’

Fox let his breath go whooshing out of his chest. ‘Yes,’ he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. ‘She is. I know she is. I feel it.’

He slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled the photo out, gazing at it, his face full of sadness.

‘Sometimes I imagine that I was a normal kid,’ he said softly. ‘With her. That I grew up in an ordinary house with an ordinary family. My mother baked cakes and bread. There was a garden full of flowers. We had a dog, called Barker. I’d play in the garden, climbing trees and finding birds’ nests. Barker and I would run through forests. I’d throw sticks for him. At night, my mother would tuck me into bed and sing to me until I fell asleep.’

My heart was breaking for Fox. He had seemed so full of joy when I met him. So at peace with his life. But now I could see it was just a mask he wore. Behind it, Fox was longing for more. Longing for what could have been.

‘What do you think happened to her?’ I asked, turning the photo to see the pencil words scratched on the back.

‘I don’t know,’ said Fox. ‘I … can’t think about it. Let’s talk about something else.’

I pressed him. ‘Have you tried asking someone? Lib, or even Zosimon?’

Fox shook his head. ‘How can I? They’ve always told me I don’t have a mother.’

‘But everyone has a mother.’

Fox folded the photo up and tucked it back into his pocket. ‘Not me.’

I remembered the wild, broken look in Maggie’s eyes. What if that happened to Fox?

‘When does the next work rotation start?’ I asked. ‘It’s been forever since I asked. I want us to be together.’

Fox coughed out a sharp laugh devoid of humour. ‘That’s never going to happen.’

‘Why? Why can’t we be in the same work team?’

He bit his lip and hesitated for a moment. ‘Because I’m not in a work team.’

I stared at him.

‘I work with the Monkeys,’ Fox said. ‘I look after them, in the Monkey House. Make sure they are clean and safe and have enough to eat. It’s what I’ve always done.’

‘But Lib said …
Zosimon
said …’

‘They said it to make you stop asking. They want to keep us apart.’

‘But why didn’t
you
say anything?’

Fox’s face was miserable. ‘He told me not to.’

I didn’t understand the control Zosimon had over everyone in the Institute. He was compelling, yes. But how did he inspire so much fear and awe?

‘It doesn’t have to be like this,’ I told him. ‘You don’t have to stay here. You can leave. You can have the house, and the garden, and the dog. And me. We could leave together. We could make that home together.’

Fox looked away. ‘No,’ he said, his voice thick with emotion. ‘That can never happen.’

‘Of course it can,’ I said. ‘I’ll look after you. We’ll look after each other. I promise.’

A flash of anger passed over his face. ‘You don’t understand. If I walk out that gate, I’ll vanish. In a puff of smoke. It will be like I never existed. You won’t be able to look after me, because there won’t be any me to look after.’

His voice was still low, so that no one would hear, but his cheeks were flushed, and tears stood out in his eyes. I reached out a hand to him, and he flinched away. He clenched a fist and slammed it onto the concrete floor, making me start in shock. Fox’s face collapsed into misery and rage.

‘Without this – without him – who am I? I’m nothing. I don’t exist. You can go back to your old life. This is all I
have.
All I am
.’ Fox thumped his chest with each word, his face blotched red and white. His words came out as silent, choking screams.

I sat frozen, unable to respond. His raw pain frightened me, reminded me of the intense sadness I thought I’d left behind. And I finally realised what it was that drew me to Fox. It wasn’t his dreamy optimism or his innocence. It was that he was broken, like me.
That
was our connection. We recognised each other on a deep, painful level. And I knew in that moment that we could make each other whole.

Through the curtain of his sandy hair, Fox noticed my expression, and his shoulders slumped.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, his voice normal again. He pushed his hair back from his brow. ‘I should never have brought you here. I should never have talked to you.’

His words took me aback. ‘Don’t say that,’ I said. ‘You
saved
me. Without you, I’d be nothing.’

Fox turned solemn eyes up to my face. ‘Without me, you’d be free.’

‘I
am
free,’ I said. ‘I’m here because I
choose
to be. Because of you. Because I choose you.’

Fox’s eyes wandered away from my face, settling on the stained carpet. ‘They all say they chose it,’ he said, his voice hoarse and small. ‘They all believe it. Until they don’t, and by then it’s too late.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Maggie chose to come here,’ he said.

‘Yes,’ I told him. ‘And she chose to leave.’

‘Did she?’

His words hung in the air, and the uneasy feeling from earlier returned, making hairs stand up on the back of my neck. I didn’t know what Fox was implying. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

So let’s leave
, I wanted to say. I wanted to grab his hand and sprint out of the building, across the gravelly driveway and through the gate, away into the night. But I didn’t want to upset him again.

‘Shhh,’ I said, gently reaching out to brush his hair back from his forehead. I used the corner of my sleeve to wipe away his tears and then, hesitantly, leaned down from my bed and kissed him on the mouth.

I was crossing a forbidden line. I knew that. But this wasn’t about the urges of the body. This was different. This was one friend comforting another.

Except it wasn’t. It wasn’t, and I knew it. But I kissed Fox anyway.

And he kissed me back. Slowly at first. Slow, gentle kisses that melted away his tears and my doubts.

It was a kiss. Just one kiss. Then we’d stop.

We didn’t stop.

Fox scrambled up onto his hands and knees, and climbed onto the bed beside me, his hands reaching out to take mine. He leaned forward and we kissed again, a deeper kiss that made my whole body pulse with desire.

I knew that if I fell much further, I wouldn’t be able to stop.

I pulled away, and it was like pulling an industrial strength magnet from a steel bar. My whole body thrummed, and my heart was racing.

‘Fox,’ I murmured. ‘We’re not supposed to …’

He drew back from me, his eyes wide, pupils large and black and still glistening with tears. ‘Do you want to stop?’ he asked. ‘If you want to, we will stop. But I don’t want to. Do you want to stop?’

I took in his dishevelled hair, flopping over his forehead. His wild eyes and kiss-stained lips. In my fantasies, I’d always
been the one pushing Fox towards sex. Teaching him about pleasure and desire. But this Fox wasn’t the Fox from my fantasies. This Fox knew what he wanted, and it only made me want him more.

‘No,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to stop.’

Fox slid his hands into my hair and cupped my face, leaning his forehead against mine, his breath panting sweet and heavy. I pulled him closer, sliding my hands up under his shirt to feel his chest, his ribs, his spine. My mouth sought his out again, and we tangled together, hot and aching.

‘Ruby,’ Fox whispered against my lips. ‘Ruby.’

It had been days since I’d heard my real name. It was like coming home.

‘How can anything that feels like this be wrong?’ murmured Fox. ‘Don’t you
feel
it?’

His lips were at the base of my throat, his fingers unbuttoning my nightgown. I’d spent weeks listening to Zosimon’s lectures about denying the body. I’d tried to follow his instructions, tried to control my urges and needs. It felt good to let that go. To touch and taste again. To
want
.

‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘Yes.’

He peeled away my nightgown as I pushed his tunic from his shoulders. His skin against mine was overwhelming, simultaneously calming and searing hot.

We shed the rest of our clothes and lay pressed against each other, skin on skin. We explored each other with gently brushing fingers and lips that grew hungry and fevered as we rose on a wave of incandescent need. It wasn’t holy or pure. It was messy and awkward and sweet and
real
. My questions and fears and doubts all fell silent. This was right.

I’m not sure how long it took me to realise that we weren’t alone. But when I did realise, I pulled away. My lips were swollen and every atom of my body ached and buzzed for
Fox. But it was all drowned in self-conscious confusion when I saw Zosimon standing in the doorway, illuminated by the fluorescent light of the corridor. As my eyes adjusted to the harsh whiteness of it all, I saw his expression. It was a curious mix of disappointment, disgust and rage.

Fox and I sprang apart and fumbled for our clothes. I felt my cheeks flare red. I glanced at Fox, expecting to see my own embarrassment mirrored on his face. But I saw something else entirely. I saw terror.

‘Daddy,’ whimpered Fox, hunching over like he was trying to make himself smaller. ‘Daddy. I’m so sorry. Please, Daddy. Please forgive me. Please. Please.’

Zosimon turned his back on us.

‘Follow me.’

12

Zosimon led us down the corridor past a series of dingy storerooms. I’d never been there before – Lib had told me that the area was off limits, that the rooms were dangerously dilapidated. He led us down another corridor, and pushed open a heavy metal door. A great waft of stale mustiness enveloped me, and I glimpsed a dark empty room, not much bigger than a cupboard.

‘Get in,’ Zosimon said to Fox, his voice expressionless. ‘Wait for me there.’

‘Look,’ I said. ‘I get that we broke the rules, we’re sorry, okay?’

Zosimon ignored me. Fox, still hunched over and small, slunk into the room. He didn’t look at me.

Zosimon pushed the door shut with a deep, booming clang, and led me further down the corridor. The fluorescent lights plinked on and off overhead. Everything smelled of damp and dust. We reached another door and another room, identical to the one that Fox had entered. Zosimon ushered me inside, flicking on a single bare light globe, and shut the door behind us.

‘Please,’ I said. ‘Let me explain.’

Zosimon drew back his hand and struck me across the face, hard. I recoiled in shock. His expression remained calm.

‘I’m so sorry it’s come to this,’ he said, his voice almost pleasant. ‘You have so much promise. I really hope we can work this out.’

I stared at him, speechless, my hand pressed to my cheek.

‘Your behaviour is unacceptable,’ Zosimon went on. ‘I realise you’re still adjusting to life here with us. But you must understand that the rules have to be followed. If I made an exception for you, then I’d have to make it for everyone, and our peaceful little family would crumble.’

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Let us go. Me and Fox. You’ll never hear from us again.’

He hit me again. One of my teeth sliced into my cheek and I tasted blood. Zosimon shook his head. ‘You don’t want that,’ he said. ‘You see, you’re still a toxicant. That’s why you behave in this way. Your body is still bound to the earth, choked with toxins. I don’t want that for you. I care about you too much.’

He kicked out at my shins, knocking me to the ground. My wrist took my body weight and twisted painfully.

Zosimon bent over me, pulling a roll of thick tape from his belt. He tore off a strip and pressed it roughly over my mouth. I tried to cry out, but my nose was running blood and mucus, and I could barely breathe.