The Citadel and the Wolves Read online

  Then the TV programme producer showed pictures of Jupiter from the Mars Wanderer, a giant telescope, which was orbiting Mars. It had been diverted from its normal job of searching the darkest depths of the universe for distant galaxies. The giant world came into stark focus on our 35 cm portable, filling the screen. Daddy drew closer to the TV, staring intently at the screen. Was he seeing what I was seeing? Tiny pinpricks of light were clearly visible on the surface of the giant planet. The tiny pinpricks of light were the impacts left by the Icarus 9 Comet. But they weren’t tiny at all, and I knew daddy was thinking the same as I. The impacts were hundreds if not thousands of kilometres across!

  I frowned when I saw her again on the giant vid advertising hoarding on the side of a building as we stopped at the lights on the corner of the high road. The well-endowed girl with the gypsy looks in a black, lacy bra invited Wendy and I to wear the new Gypsy Queen bra and drive the guys in our lives crazy with lust. Unfortunately, I couldn’t switch her off this time. But I wanted to.

  “Implants,” remarked Wendy after a moment.

  We both laughed.

  Daddy dropped Wendy and I off outside the main school gates.

  Despite its name, St. Jude’s is an ultra modern academy of science and arts with eight high tech labs and the biggest computer sciences department in London. It stands on the site of an old ‘bog standard’ comprehensive, one of the old high schools that were built in the latter part of the 20th century. It was demolished to make way for the new academy. From the outside, the school building reminds me of a giant teapot toppling over on its side. Or is it a watering can?

  We hurried up the main spiral staircase, which rose to all floors. As we turned the corner in the school corridor on the second, I spotted Kevin Willis, who’s in year 10. He’s a tall, lanky boy with collar-length hair. I ducked behind Wendy, who’s 8 centimetres taller than I, hoping that he hadn’t spotted me. Oh, DROKK! He had.

  “Hi, Wendy.”

  “Hi, Kev.”

  “Hi, Jade.”

  I muttered something in my throat that sounded like ‘Hi.’ It might have been something else that was very rude.

  “Jade, will you be going to the school disco tonight?” asked Kevin hopefully.

  I found myself once more explaining to Kevin Willis that I had to catch up on my maths and science homework in the evening, so I wouldn’t be able to go to the school disco with him as much as I’d love to, etcetera, etcetera. Excuse Number 2 was washing my hair in the evening. I’d rather date my pet slug than Kevin Willis. I don’t have a pet slug, but if I did, I would. He (Kevin Willis and not my imaginary pet slug) looked disappointed.

  “I’ll be going to the disco tonight, Kev,” announced Wendy, flashing her big, blue eyes at him.

  I think my sister is a flirt sometimes.

  He muttered something, shoving his hands into his pockets, before he walked off.

  I puffed out my cheeks. It was the way that I felt whenever I bumped into Kevin Willis of year 10.

  I noticed a foolish grin on my sister’s face.

  “What?”

  “Kevin Willis fancies you, Jade.”

  “Leave it out, Wendy.”

  She laughed.

  Although Kevin Willis isn’t bad looking in an odd, alien sort of way, I’m simply not interested. As I mentioned earlier, my studies always come first, second and third.

  I’ve a very curious mind, and I wanted to learn more about the Icarus 9 Comet. Thus I found myself in the school library during my midmorning free period. As I walked down the two steps leading to the computer lounge, one or two sitting behind their monitor screens looked up briefly before returning to their late, late homework or computer games. Probably computer games. I found a spare one in an alcove away from the others. I dropped my schoolbag down on the floor as I slipped into the hard plastic chair. I booted the computer up and searched for ‘Icarus 9 Comet’ and got many on the subject. I chose the more serious one by the Astronomical Society of Great Britain. Daddy is a member. I began reading their article on the Icarus 9 Comet which included pictures of the giant world in our solar system.

  ‘The Icarus 9 Comet had made the mistake of getting too close to the enormous influence of the giant planet in our solar system and was torn apart before being devoured by her completely in her dense clouds.’

  Daddy said that one of the largest fragments from the Comet had a radius of about 3 kilometres. When I looked out of the window at home, I tried to imagine in my mind’s eye how far that was. I think it was probably the distance between West Norwood and Streatham here in South East London. That was an enormous piece of space rock.

  ‘Distinct impacts on the surface of Jupiter were observed by space observatories worldwide as well as many space telescopes in orbit and around Mars. The largest impact so far from the Comet has left a huge bright spot of over 12,000 kilometres across. That was estimated to have released an energy equivalent to 6,000,000 megatons of TNT which is over 600 times the world’s nuclear arsenal.’

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

  2. VOICES FROM HEAVEN

  It was midday, and our mental batteries already needed recharging. Wendy and I spent our lunch break on Streatham Common in South London. It seemed a million kilometres away from the school. We had the common to ourselves apart from the guy in the cloth cap out walking his dog, a white poodle, but he and his dog didn’t bother us. It was a fine, summer’s day, and there was hardly a cloud in the sky. A gentle breeze ruffled Wendy’s hair, making it look untidy again. When she caught me watching her, she poked her tongue out. I laughed. Wendy had a great sense of fun wherever we were. I was simply grateful that she was my sister. I glanced at the blue, cloudless sky. This seemed to be a perfect day to be alive in the world. We were both young and enjoying this moment in time. I didn’t want it to be stolen from us. I didn’t want to think about the future right then. It would only spoil things. I wanted this moment to last forever. The Dark Times were faraway from this place of light and sunshine. Wendy and I shared a packed lunch of salmon and cucumber sandwiches that mum had made for us before school. We washed it down with sparkling bottled mineral water.

  “Jade, do you reckon he’s got a girlfriend?” asked Wendy as she munched on her salmon and cucumber sandwich.

  I was puzzled briefly. “Kevin Willis?”

  “No, Super cool, idiot.”

  “The paperboy?”

  She smirked. “He’s not a boy, Jade. He’s almost a man.”

  “Almost?”

  “I wonder if he’s got a girlfriend, Jade.”

  “Yeah, lots, I should imagine,” I answered without thinking as I idly checked the filling in my new sandwich.

  I noticed the look in Wendy’s eyes. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. She needed reassurance. Although my sister is beautiful, she’s also a little insecure at times.

  “In the past,” I added quickly.

  Wendy smiled suddenly. “Yeah, in the past, the distant past…”

  After our lunch, Wendy and I lay on the grass on our school blazers in silence. The guy in the cloth cap, who was really an alien from the 5th dimension, out walking his poodle, had vanished from the common and this world, so we were truly alone now. The sounds of the city became more distant. They were faraway from this place, our island. I stared at the sky. I was astonished, for I could see a sprinkling of stars beyond the blue. The light, summer breeze had blown away the remainder of the city pollution in the sky leaving it almost crystal clear. Wendy broke into my thoughts again.

  “I wonder what his kisses are like.”

  “Kevin Willis?” I teased.

  She nudged me playfully. “Super cool.”

  “Super cool?”

  “Yeah.”

  I let my mind drift along the summer breeze on this perfect day. I wondered if Wendy was thinking the same as me. I glanced at her. No, she was thinking of kissing Super cool, pressing her full l
ips on his awkwardly and smudging her cherry-red lipstick. She had one of those silly smiles on her face again. I feared that she would be disappointed. Super cool, the paperboy from a faraway galaxy, was in love with only one person, himself.

  When the sunlight glittered off its silver frame, I noticed it for the first time as the International Space Platform passed overhead. It seemed to drift by quite slowly across the blue domed heaven like a giant, graceful bird touching the sky with its huge wing span, yet that was an illusion, for it was travelling at many hundreds of kilometres per hour. I smiled suddenly. That’s where I want to work one day, a scientist on the International Space Platform. I was puzzled. There was something I was trying to remember. What was it now?

  “International Space Platform,” I announced.

  “Yes,” muttered Wendy indifferently.

  All of this marvellous technology of the 21st century was lost on Wendy. She was too busy kissing Super cool in her dreams.

  I reached up into outer space and touched the International Space Platform with my mind. I imagined myself standing on the observation deck looking down on the blue and green planet that was my home as it drifted by quite slowly beneath my feet. Yes, I, Jade Robinson stood on top of the world. What an exciting moment that would be. I sat up with a start when I remembered. It was something that Mr Whitehouse, our science teacher, had told us awhile ago. I searched my bag for my vid phone excitedly. I found it, flipping it open. I had kept the number in my vid phone book. As I checked it, I prayed that I’d not deleted it accidentally.

  No, there it was:

  International Space Platform

  08000 5150 9000 212 000

  I smiled.

  I dialled the long number filling the screen.

  “Who are you ringing, Jade?” wondered Wendy curiously when she had stopped kissing Super cool for a minute.

  “The International Space Platform,” I replied quite calmly, though I wasn’t inside.

  “Ask a silly…”

  “When the International Space Platform is passing directly overhead, you can ring them,” I added authoritatively.

  She murmured.

  I waited, but my screen remained blank, disappointing me. A thought occurred to me; perhaps it was another one of Mr Whitehouse’s practical jokes. Surely you couldn’t just ring up the International Space Platform, like ordering up a pizza or something from your local pizza place. I began to let the doubts creep into my mind. The screen remained blank. I was about to give up.

  Connecting you…please wait…

  I stared at the words on my mobile screen, and I dared to believe. But who was I being connected to? I sighed to let some of the tensions drain from my body. I continued to wait patiently.

  “It’s time we made a move, Jade,” said Wendy who sat up. “We don’t want to be back late.” She picked up her school blazer, brushing off the grass before she put it on. “Jade?”

  I ignored my sister.

  I started when the other appeared suddenly on my vid screen smiling. The picture was crystal clear, even though it was from outer space. It was from outer space! She was attractive with short, dark hair and a fringe, and she was probably in her mid-twenties in a smart suit. I noticed that she was wearing cherry-red lipstick. She was probably sitting behind a desk, I reasoned. The International Space Platform logo of hands reaching out to the stars appeared in the bottom, left hand corner of my vid screen. Was I really through to the International Space Platform?

  “My name is Karen. You’ve got through to the International Space Platform,” announced Karen in a kind, courteous, assured voice.

  Oh my god! I thought. I’d got through to the International Space Platform. I suppressed the desire to laugh out loud. I had simply dialled the number that Mr Whitehouse had given us, and now someone from the International Space Platform was speaking to me. She was speaking to me here on earth.

  “How may we help you?” asked Karen.

  My throat felt constricted, and my mouth was dry. I could hardly speak. Who was I? I was confused. The other waited patiently, for she recognised my youth. I was a young girl, who was full of curiosity and wonder, and she understood this. Then I was suddenly calm again.

  I finally spoke, “My name is Jade Robinson.”

  Karen smiled disarmingly. “Hello, Jade, how may the International Space Platform help you?”

  I was speaking to someone hundreds of kilometres in the sky. I tried not to think about it, which was difficult.

  “I’d-I’d like to talk with one of the scientists…if-if they’re not all too busy,” I answered with a slight tremble in my voice this time.

  “I’ll put you through to one, Jade,” said Karen with a kind smile.

  Oh my, I thought.

  When my screen went blank again, I feared I’d lost the connection, but I noticed that the International Space Platform logo remained on my mobile screen. I smiled. I was still connected. I waited again confident that they would return very shortly. I was suddenly nervous again. Did they think that I was a precocious, little kid? I hoped not. I resisted chewing my nails because that is Wendy’s way whenever she is nervous about something.

  I became aware of Wendy on my shoulder. Her eyes were filled with astonishment.

  “Jade,” uttered Wendy breathlessly as she stared at the vid screen, “you’re speaking to the International Space Platform.”

  It appeared on my screen again:

  Connecting you…please wait…

  I started. Doctor David Newton suddenly appeared on my vid phone screen smoking a pipe. He was young, late twenty something with a dark complexion and lantern jawed in a white, open-neck, short-sleeved shirt. I noticed oddly that he had hairy, tanned arms. How do you get a suntan in space? Wendy wore a surprised look on her face, for she hadn’t expected him. She smiled nervously, hoping she was in the picture, too. When he smiled suddenly, Wendy caught her breath, but I’d found him first, not that I’m interested in boys yet. He wasn’t a boy. Oh no, he wasn’t a boy.

  He spoke in a soft, American accent: “My name is Doctor David Newton. What do you want to ask me, Jade?”

  Wendy groaned behind me.

  “Will you marry me and have my babies?” whispered Wendy, being frivolous as usual.

  Unlike Wendy, I decided that I was going to be grown up and mature, asking the doctor all sorts of intelligent questions about his work and life on board the International Space Platform. I took a deep breath, and I asked him my first question. He looked at me puzzled for a moment before he suddenly chuckled. What had I done? My cheeks burned. I quickly muttered something about zero gravity. I just wanted the ground to swallow me up at that moment. If only it had.

  I sat on the window sill in the school cloakroom with my arms folded sternly. Wendy was watching me with an amused look on her face standing nearby.

  I sighed, “What?”

  “Doctor Newton, will you marry me and have my babies?” Wendy suddenly giggled.

  I glared at her.

  To add to my total humiliation if that were at all possible and it was, I discovered later that my call to the International Space Platform was being beamed live to millions of other callers who were watching it on their vid phones. I just hoped daddy hadn’t seen it, too. He hadn’t. I quickly realised that I’d been used, I thought. It was a show, and I was the leading actor on a world stage. I was the only actor in the play, but no one had asked me if I had wanted to be in the play. My total humiliation soon turned to anger. I was a silly, little girl who shouldn’t have called up the International Space Platform, and they had laughed at me. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Doctor David Newton wasn’t a scientist at all but an actor. No, he was a scientist. After my first embarrassing slip, I’d asked him lots of questions about his life and work on board the International Space Platform. I’d learnt many interesting things about the Space Platform, and the doctor was kind. He was understanding. He knew I was nervous. He had helped me a
lot on some of my questions. But would many people remember them? Would they only remember my first little slip? I blamed Wendy instead. I didn’t forgive her for the rest of the day. Kevin Willis who just happened to be one of the millions watching my call to the International Space Platform thought I was brilliant. He would. Then daddy got the phone bill on the doormat about a month later. My call to the International Space Platform had cost 852 euros. Daddy wasn’t pleased. I realised then that the millions of callers worldwide to the International Space Platform every day helped to pay for its enormous running costs of one billion euros annually. It was a kind of entertainment, though it wasn’t cheap entertainment. I’d been naïve.

  Doctor Newton smiled reassuringly, “We call it space time up here in orbit, Jade. What does that mean to the average school pupil on the ground? (average??) Time travels much more slowly in space.”

  As I turned up the main school staircase alone with my schoolbooks, one or two coming down smirked knowingly when they saw me. Although I tried to ignore them, it was difficult. I heard someone coming up behind me in a hurry, breathing heavily. I wasn’t in the mood for this. As I turned to tell Kevin Willis to go away, Mr Whitehouse caught up with me clutching an old, battered briefcase.

  Mr Whitehouse, whom I’d mentioned earlier, was about daddy’s age. In many ways, he reminded me of daddy. He was bearded, a professor type. He wore an old jumper under a tweed jacket, baggy, brown trousers and brown suede shoes. Unlike the other teachers at school, he made you feel relaxed in his company. Although the relationship, pupil and teacher, remained the same, he made you feel important. You were a human being and not just another brick in the wall. He had a kind smile too, just like daddy.