meeting and clasping when they reached her kneecap. Cherry had never seen Lady stay still for very long but today she looked as if she was settling in for a long conversation.
Cherry observed Lady's clothing. At first sight she always looked well dressed, well heeled, but if you looked for long enough, the details started to offer themselves up to you – loose threads, lines where an item of clothing had been taken out or let down, dark colouration along the collars of her blouses. Lady's makeup, which was also quite striking from a distance, had an inaccuracy about it, as if over years of applying the same shapes to her mouth and eyes her standards had slipped. Cherry remembered being impressed by Lady's flawless appearance when they had first met, but then that was a long time ago and Lady was approaching her fifties now. Perhaps, Cherry thought, her makeup was still the same. Perhaps it was her face that had changed and the two no longer aligned.
'Cherry,' Lady said. A frown was hovering on her forehead, held back by her tightly-bunned hair. 'You can feel something starting?'
'I feel a bit funny,' Cherry replied after a moment.
Lady exploded up from her chair and back into movement as if Cherry had said the magic word to release her. She paced and let her hands wander around her person, into pockets and out again, up to her face, onto the backs of chairs, across the table top.
'Funny? Funny ill?'
'I guess. Not so much now, though. I just mentioned it to Marlene for something to say.'
Lady laughed a false high-pitched laugh, as if to emphasise how unfunny the situation was to her.
'Not the sort of thing I'd recommend for small-talk, Cherry. Not something to be joked about really. What do you think?'
'I do feel funny…just…I couldn't say how yet.'
'Funny pregnant?'
'No!'
Lady snorted. 'And how would you know? Been pregnant lately?'
'I'm sealed.' Cherry tried not to raise her voice. Even if she hadn't been sealed, raising the subject of pregnancy with her, a seeker of disease, seemed in bad taste to say the least.
'I forget.'
Lady sounded as if she had genuinely forgotten this about Cherry. It was possible that she had. She had forty-two or forty-three seekers working for her right now, a lot to keep a track of. On the other hand, Cherry was the only one from central London. Girls who lived outside the big cities tended not to be sealed. The governors believed that it encouraged promiscuity and so it was frowned upon. This wasn't a problem in the cities, where everyone had nanoscreens fitted thanks to the key workers scheme. They could do whatever they wanted and get away with it, disease-wise – one less disincentive to having sex – so in the name of either population control, infant rights, or youth preservation depending on who you listened to, they would have their female children cervically sealed age ten.
For Cherry, being ex-London had its benefits. The screen made her a good seeker, as it flagged up unknown infections and dealt with known ones. Never mind that, it meant that she was guaranteed a job as a seeker, going out to find viruses, rather than being stuck in the Hospital knocking shop waiting for viruses to come to her. She could get uploads on the blacknet to keep her up to date with all the logged and registered viruses that were out there. A registered virus was worth nothing to Lady and could put a worker out of service for weeks, maybe permanently. She needed one of two things: new mutations of high presentation STVs, or commissioned exclusives caught somewhere down the chain from the buyer, both of which could be sold on to the collectives who ran the Pigs.
Lady tottered round and round, drawing a neat circle about the sofa where Cherry sat, as if there was some invisible line there that she didn't want to cross. Her lips were pursed and her eyes darted around the room, as if she was looking for something.
Cherry looked up to the window. From where she sat she could just see the
Cherry observed Lady's clothing. At first sight she always looked well dressed, well heeled, but if you looked for long enough, the details started to offer themselves up to you – loose threads, lines where an item of clothing had been taken out or let down, dark colouration along the collars of her blouses. Lady's makeup, which was also quite striking from a distance, had an inaccuracy about it, as if over years of applying the same shapes to her mouth and eyes her standards had slipped. Cherry remembered being impressed by Lady's flawless appearance when they had first met, but then that was a long time ago and Lady was approaching her fifties now. Perhaps, Cherry thought, her makeup was still the same. Perhaps it was her face that had changed and the two no longer aligned.
'Cherry,' Lady said. A frown was hovering on her forehead, held back by her tightly-bunned hair. 'You can feel something starting?'
'I feel a bit funny,' Cherry replied after a moment.
Lady exploded up from her chair and back into movement as if Cherry had said the magic word to release her. She paced and let her hands wander around her person, into pockets and out again, up to her face, onto the backs of chairs, across the table top.
'Funny? Funny ill?'
'I guess. Not so much now, though. I just mentioned it to Marlene for something to say.'
Lady laughed a false high-pitched laugh, as if to emphasise how unfunny the situation was to her.
'Not the sort of thing I'd recommend for small-talk, Cherry. Not something to be joked about really. What do you think?'
'I do feel funny…just…I couldn't say how yet.'
'Funny pregnant?'
'No!'
Lady snorted. 'And how would you know? Been pregnant lately?'
'I'm sealed.' Cherry tried not to raise her voice. Even if she hadn't been sealed, raising the subject of pregnancy with her, a seeker of disease, seemed in bad taste to say the least.
'I forget.'
Lady sounded as if she had genuinely forgotten this about Cherry. It was possible that she had. She had forty-two or forty-three seekers working for her right now, a lot to keep a track of. On the other hand, Cherry was the only one from central London. Girls who lived outside the big cities tended not to be sealed. The governors believed that it encouraged promiscuity and so it was frowned upon. This wasn't a problem in the cities, where everyone had nanoscreens fitted thanks to the key workers scheme. They could do whatever they wanted and get away with it, disease-wise – one less disincentive to having sex – so in the name of either population control, infant rights, or youth preservation depending on who you listened to, they would have their female children cervically sealed age ten.
For Cherry, being ex-London had its benefits. The screen made her a good seeker, as it flagged up unknown infections and dealt with known ones. Never mind that, it meant that she was guaranteed a job as a seeker, going out to find viruses, rather than being stuck in the Hospital knocking shop waiting for viruses to come to her. She could get uploads on the blacknet to keep her up to date with all the logged and registered viruses that were out there. A registered virus was worth nothing to Lady and could put a worker out of service for weeks, maybe permanently. She needed one of two things: new mutations of high presentation STVs, or commissioned exclusives caught somewhere down the chain from the buyer, both of which could be sold on to the collectives who ran the Pigs.
Lady tottered round and round, drawing a neat circle about the sofa where Cherry sat, as if there was some invisible line there that she didn't want to cross. Her lips were pursed and her eyes darted around the room, as if she was looking for something.
Cherry looked up to the window. From where she sat she could just see the
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