Then they invented something to solve that problem too. They outsourced their reproduction to an artificial womb where eggs were fertilized and infants were incubated. This proved so popular, the change became irreversible. Female outers lost the ability to carry a pregnancy.
‘Squirrels look cute,’ the controller said, ‘but they’re rodents. Vermin, pests. Once we’ve got this lot caged, we’ll destroy them – humanely of course.’
‘I’ll take them away for analysis,’ Lexi said.
‘Fair enough.’
Lexi grabbed her vibrating life-logger and read the confidential message that she had just received. While the pest controllers went towards the entrance to set up their traps, Lexi glanced at her partner.
‘What is it?’ Troy asked.
‘I’m sorry, Troy. You’ve just been relieved of this case – at least for the moment.’
‘What?’ he exclaimed.
‘They’ve asked me to break some bad news. You’re wanted urgently at Pickling Hospital.’
‘Why? What’s going on?’
As an outer, Lexi didn’t have parents and didn’t understand their value, but Troy belonged to a different species with different ideas. She gulped and said, ‘It’s your father.’
SCENE 18
Friday 9th May, Morning
Gazing at his unconscious father in the sterile room, Troy still didn’t know the colour of his hair. It had burnt away. Much of his face was covered with dressings. One bare arm was landscaped with bruises and blisters. He was breathing only with the aid of a machine, and a monitor registered his weak heartbeat with bleeps.
Troy wasn’t sure what he felt. Mostly, it was a mixture of anger and fear. He wasn’t sure what to do. Should he hold his dad’s hand? Should he say something? Would his dad be able to feel or hearanything? The outer doctor thought not. But the major son thought there would still be something inside this broken man, some unseen connection to the world.
‘Hello, Dad,’ he said. ‘It’s me. Troy.’
Did his father’s heartbeat quicken just a tiny bit? Troy liked to think so.
‘Gran’s on her way. That’s what the hospital said. They’re racing her here.’
He stood beside the bed and listened to the hissing of a pump that was forcing air into his dad’s unwilling, smoke-damaged lungs.
‘I’m sorry I never got around to visiting. I wish …’ He sighed and started again. ‘Did you know I’m a detective now? Did Gran tell you? Two cases down, working on number three. You’d be … interested. It’s going well. North of well.’ Doing his best to smile, he added, ‘Though, we might be chasing a bunch of squirrels this time.’
His phone throbbed with an incoming call. Troy felt guilty to take it under the circumstances, but the screen announced it was from the police commander. He turned to one side and whispered, ‘Troy Goodhart.’
‘I’ll be brief, Troy. You have other things on your mind. I’ve spoken to your dad’s doctor and Iunderstand there’s little time left. I’m truly sorry. As a result, I’ve consulted the highest legal authorities. Given the need to act quickly, we’ve made an immediate decision and I’m going to confirm it in writing for you. As soon as you get it, I want you to be my representative in Pickling and read it to your father.’
Unnerved, Troy replied, ‘I’m not sure he’ll …’
‘Have faith, Troy. Read it anyway.’
‘All right.’
Bemused, Troy turned back to the eerily still patient stretched out on the bed, connected to the world by tubes and wires. Apart from his obvious wounds, he looked fit. Perhaps it was true what an undercover police officer had told Troy: there’s not much to do in prison apart from working out in the gym.
‘Do you still kick a ball about? Do they let you do that in prison? Prisoners versus the guards. Or would that be asking for trouble?’ Troy paused. ‘I was south of hopeless at school. Square peg in a round hole. I couldn’t do all that clever, outer stuff. But the teachers noticed I
‘Squirrels look cute,’ the controller said, ‘but they’re rodents. Vermin, pests. Once we’ve got this lot caged, we’ll destroy them – humanely of course.’
‘I’ll take them away for analysis,’ Lexi said.
‘Fair enough.’
Lexi grabbed her vibrating life-logger and read the confidential message that she had just received. While the pest controllers went towards the entrance to set up their traps, Lexi glanced at her partner.
‘What is it?’ Troy asked.
‘I’m sorry, Troy. You’ve just been relieved of this case – at least for the moment.’
‘What?’ he exclaimed.
‘They’ve asked me to break some bad news. You’re wanted urgently at Pickling Hospital.’
‘Why? What’s going on?’
As an outer, Lexi didn’t have parents and didn’t understand their value, but Troy belonged to a different species with different ideas. She gulped and said, ‘It’s your father.’
SCENE 18
Friday 9th May, Morning
Gazing at his unconscious father in the sterile room, Troy still didn’t know the colour of his hair. It had burnt away. Much of his face was covered with dressings. One bare arm was landscaped with bruises and blisters. He was breathing only with the aid of a machine, and a monitor registered his weak heartbeat with bleeps.
Troy wasn’t sure what he felt. Mostly, it was a mixture of anger and fear. He wasn’t sure what to do. Should he hold his dad’s hand? Should he say something? Would his dad be able to feel or hearanything? The outer doctor thought not. But the major son thought there would still be something inside this broken man, some unseen connection to the world.
‘Hello, Dad,’ he said. ‘It’s me. Troy.’
Did his father’s heartbeat quicken just a tiny bit? Troy liked to think so.
‘Gran’s on her way. That’s what the hospital said. They’re racing her here.’
He stood beside the bed and listened to the hissing of a pump that was forcing air into his dad’s unwilling, smoke-damaged lungs.
‘I’m sorry I never got around to visiting. I wish …’ He sighed and started again. ‘Did you know I’m a detective now? Did Gran tell you? Two cases down, working on number three. You’d be … interested. It’s going well. North of well.’ Doing his best to smile, he added, ‘Though, we might be chasing a bunch of squirrels this time.’
His phone throbbed with an incoming call. Troy felt guilty to take it under the circumstances, but the screen announced it was from the police commander. He turned to one side and whispered, ‘Troy Goodhart.’
‘I’ll be brief, Troy. You have other things on your mind. I’ve spoken to your dad’s doctor and Iunderstand there’s little time left. I’m truly sorry. As a result, I’ve consulted the highest legal authorities. Given the need to act quickly, we’ve made an immediate decision and I’m going to confirm it in writing for you. As soon as you get it, I want you to be my representative in Pickling and read it to your father.’
Unnerved, Troy replied, ‘I’m not sure he’ll …’
‘Have faith, Troy. Read it anyway.’
‘All right.’
Bemused, Troy turned back to the eerily still patient stretched out on the bed, connected to the world by tubes and wires. Apart from his obvious wounds, he looked fit. Perhaps it was true what an undercover police officer had told Troy: there’s not much to do in prison apart from working out in the gym.
‘Do you still kick a ball about? Do they let you do that in prison? Prisoners versus the guards. Or would that be asking for trouble?’ Troy paused. ‘I was south of hopeless at school. Square peg in a round hole. I couldn’t do all that clever, outer stuff. But the teachers noticed I
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