Nurture, Cliques and Green Skinned Freaks

Chapter 3

Dreams and Nightmares

Pearl's program runs its course late that night and I snatch some sleep. As I sleep I dream… Daddy is holding my hand and there's dense fog everywhere. Suddenly a really rotten smell envelopes us and I see two figures in crimson robes with pointed hoods rearing out of the mist.

"THAT'S THE MONSTER – YOU IMBECILE!" one of them yells, pointing at me.

Daddy tightens his grip on my hand. "They're red fascists," he says softly, "it's as though they're from that totalitarian twentieth century…"

The HAM members drift around us hissing "monster… monster…" they give off a powerful putrid stench that makes me want to gag and heave.

"You're here, Daddy," I murmur out loud, "I'm not too worried." I wake up with a start. It's dawn.

Oh my gosh, I've got to get myself ready, Gannon's coming in a few hours. But first I've got to feed my sugar mice. They're my pets. Little Genetically Engineered Beasts, or GEBs as they are called, that come into my room at dawn and I feed them. I sit up, push my long black hair out of my face and get the box of candies out from my bedside cabinet. I can smell their sharp scent now. I hear their scrabbling and their tiny squeaking which Mummy and Daddy say is too high for them to hear. Then they hop out of their hole in the skirting board and across the carpet. Little fluffy pink mice, with long, tufted tails and huge back legs. I reach out my arms and they hop onto my hands and up my arms. Dolly, the biggest, scrambles into my hair and then climbs on top of my head. Cheeky thing! It tickles when she does that. I give each of them rainbow nougat and now it's time for me to bathe.

I set my bathing chamber to tropical storm. The lights of the white tiled room flicker up the spectrum of colours, from red to ultrablue (can pure humans see that one clearly?) and then they solidify and shine leafy green. I jump into the marble pool and it swirls me round and round while the shower from the ceiling pours down warm water like tropical rain.

When I'm bathed and dry, I think about how to look my best. I know I'm not perfect like Emily. In fact, most other hybrid girls are more beautiful than I am. But maybe, just maybe I can make a really good impression... I put on my prettiest sky blue dress. Dolly jumps onto my shoulder as I think about what lipstick to wear. I gaze critically at my reflection in my mirror. Dolly stares at the mirror too with her little beady blue eyes, her whiskers twitching. I think forest green is the most sensible lipstick. My lips are dark green anyway. I put on just the right amount and then paint my nails the same shade. My gosh, I'm starting to get jittery. It's just that I want to make a good impression so much. Maybe my rescuer will come to love me given enough time, like Daddy says can happen.

I go downstairs to breakfast with Dolly still on my shoulder. Mum's here having a grapefruit and bran muffin.

"Good morning, Mummy," I say, touching my cheek so she knows I want to rub against her. She puts her paper down. Ugh! The headline's about HAM! Well I won't look at it. I rub one of my cheeks against hers and then the other. I'm glad she's so considerate nowadays and never uses those overpowering perfumes that make me dizzy. I'm making that purring noise hybrids make – a rumbling in the back of my throat.

"Good to see you happy and purring again this morning, sweetie," says Mummy.

"Where's Daddy?" I ask, plopping down on a chair and gathering a pile of pancakes.

"He's taking a conference call, sweetie, so don't disturb him. But don't worry, he'll definitely be finished before lunch."

Oh dear, I needed to talk to him to keep calm. I pour maple syrup on the pancakes.

"Remember your napkin, Kristin, you don't want to mess up your good dress," says Mum. She's right. I don't know of any hybrid who would win a prize for eating elegantly.

So with my bib on, I take the pancakes and stuff them down quickly. I want as much energy as possible today. Dolly's still on my shoulder and I give her a fragment of pancake. I take a lot of emerald syrup with my porridge, it makes my taste buds explode with excitement. I get the urge to shove my face in the bowl and gorge, but I'm going to act sophisticated today. I'm going to.

Gannon should be arriving soon and I'm back in my room, touching up my lipstick and mascara. They both got smudged somehow. Suddenly I hear Daddy and Gannon speaking, their voices carrying up the stairs very clear.

"You are always welcome in my house my boy. It gives me hope when young Britons can still act so heroically. You'll be a most valuable addition to Queen's sports club too. The director is somewhat inclined to snobbery, but I am on the board of governors so he won't question my decision..."

"I really hope I do get to be the school captain…" Gannon replies.

Oh dear, I so wanted to be the one to welcome him in. Never mind. I'll get a move on now. I leap down the steps, four at a time and land at the bottom. Mummy and Daddy are talking with Gannon in the Welcome Room. They turn round as I come in. Oh my, Gannon really looks magnificent. The crystal globes near the ceiling shine down on him and their light glints off his auburn hair. I'm struck anew by how his face is totally gorgeous. Sort of like the beauty of a leopard's spots brought to a human face. Although I'm not sure if I should say it like that…

"Hey Gannon," I rasp. I run forward to hug him. Oh Great Planets, his scent is so exciting. I breathe harder. I can hardly hear Mummy speaking: "there you are Kristin. I was just telling Daddy about how our young hero saw off those madmen in bloody robes…"

I look Gannon in the eyes. "Thank you so much for coming," I murmur. Now he's here again I'm almost forgetting where I am…

But Daddy's speaking, "you were quite right Gannon, exercise does build up an appetite and it is admirable to stick to a training schedule. Kristin is a keen swimmer. Swimming is an important form of exercise."

OK thanks, Daddy. I snap myself out of it. I should have been the one to suggest the swimming pool, Gannon is my guest.

"I can show you our pool," I say rasp, "we could play all sorts of water games."

We change in separate cubicles at opposite ends of the pool house. I'm afraid I look a lot weirder with my swimming cap on. Like I have a round, smooth head as well as a bright green face. It can't be helped. If I try to swim without a cap my hair gets in my face like a load of seaweed. I step onto the sandy beach of the big leisure pool. The white sand is soft and I like the feel of it between my toes. The air carries the pleasant fragrances of the minerals in the water and the poolside flowers. Gannon's stepped out of the cubicle. OK I must be polite and avert my eyes. I turn my head to one side.

"I know a great game," I call out with my head turned away from him. No wait, I can't speak to him and not look at him… Oh I'll just swim across the pool. I splash through the shallow end and then dive in and glide through the cool water all the way to the other side. I look up at Gannon smiling, "the water's great," I reassure him.

"You swim very fast," he says, raising his eyebrows. He slips into the water too and treads water beside me.

"I have a game that helps me practice swimming fast," I tell him, "I call it 'catch the jellyfish.'" I tap a button shaped like a seashell on the edge of the pool and brightly coloured blobs of jelly, blue, pink, purple, orange, yellow, lime and olive come hurtling into the pool and dart around. "Let's catch some!" I say and show him what I mean by darting through the water to grab the blue one. It feels warm, soft and slippery in my hands.

"Throw it here, Kristin," calls Gannon. I heave the jelly across the pool and he leaps up in the water to catch it. We laugh and splash around, throwing the different jellies back and forth. I take care to throw so that he can catch them, but I notice that he's throwing them a bit higher now. I leap out of the water to catch them each time. Then he flings one slightly to the left so I leap left and catch that one as well. He whoops. "Oh well done, I've never known a girl to be so good at this. Now let's see which of us can catch the most jellies?" He shoots across the pool, his pale, muscular limbs all of a flurry. I swim alongside him, slower than I usually do so he can keep up and we splash up to the lime jelly which is drifting in the shallow end. I catch hold of it first without thinking about it. My guest should come first. I hand it to him. "You've got one," I tell him.

"That's not quite how it works," he says, sitting on the sand waist deep in water.

I sit beside him. "I like the idea of us catching them together," I reply. I honestly don't think he can beat me if we make it a competition, but of course I won't say that. I want him to feel welcome and relaxed in my home. "It's great just to have someone to play with me. Not all the other girls at school will play games like this with me. They say I cheat because of my freaky reflexes."

"Freaky? That's not freaky," says Gannon, "what sore losers they must be."

"The doctors say that a hybrid's coordination may be better," I reply, "I purr when I'm happy enough – perhaps I have reflexes like a cat as well. If I had a choice, I would probably prefer not to be better coordinated than a pure human."

"Sports should be about giving it your all, and purposefully going against tough odds," says Gannon, "not about complaining when someone else can play better. I may well become the sports captain now, so those other girls can't really judge as well as I can."

"Good point, dear, good point." OK, this is a great start. I just need to find more things we have in common.

At lunch, Gannon tells us more about how the sports captain election.

"Everyone in the sixth form gets one vote," he says, "boys and girls, the sportsmen and those who are not sportsmen. Everyone gets a say and that's how it should be."

"Hear, hear," says Daddy.

"It's great that the girls get to vote. There's no doubt who they'll all vote for," says Mummy, beaming at Gannon.

"Well…" says Gannon, flushing rosy pink.

"You are a perfect boy, you don't even have to say it," coos Mummy, "but us fiery types should speak up for each other." Mummy has red hair too.

"The match next Friday evening will decide it, probably," says Gannon, "everyone has another chance to see how we play."

"I must come and watch it," I rasp. I'm trying to impress him by not eating messily. Lunch is a four legged turkey. We get a leg each. I'm taking care just to nibble mine. I'm not going to gorge myself.

"Good to see you eat so nicely, darling," says Mummy. She turns to Gannon again. "You wouldn't believe what Kristin would get up to when she was little. One day, when she was a toddler, she got into the cupboard with an extra-large cream trifle I had prepared for some guests the following day and when I found her she had eaten most of it and got the rest all over her. The silly doctors hadn't told us what an appetite our sweet little emerald would have. The trifle should have been for six." I force myself to smile, but stare fixedly at my plate. Thank you Mum, that's just the story you needed to tell to embarrass me.

Gannon bursts out laughing. "That's so cute," he says, beaming at me, "you're so modest about all these talents you have. That's already three different types of competition you would certainly win. What does it matter if other girls are sore losers? Plenty of the boys would cheer you for winning swimming or catching or even eating contests. And we do have an eating contest."

I suddenly feel warm inside. I grin at him.

"Our Kristin is very special," says Daddy.

"And other girls can be mean," says Mummy.

When dinner is over I hear the squeaking of the sugar mice outside the room and suddenly all six of my pink furry friends come through the door, pushing a brand new leather ball onto the Persian rug.

"Ah! You have trained GEBs in the house," says Gannon raising his eyebrows.

"The mice have a surprise for you," says Daddy.

"For me?" says Gannon, kneeling down on the rug, "why it's a special edition Jovian football with my initials! Thank you so much, sir!"

"It's fitting that it should go to one who plays a really good game," says Daddy.

Yes. The Game. Gannon has to go off and practice that afternoon. I'll have to wait till the match to meet him again. I'm certain he was starting to like me. If he admires my inhuman appetite, then that's wonderful. And unexpected.

So until Friday Gannon. I'm going to have to get through the week with my baby fever flaring up again.

Tomorrow morning it's the same old feeling. The one that makes me dread the day. I feel empty inside, because I don't have that little person I can look after. Talking about it doesn't actually help. How could I tell a pure human this and make myself understood? I am still lonely even though I have my Mum and Dad. I need to share my love with a new generation. With someone little who I can cradle in my arms. School doesn't make me happy. But if I had a son or daughter to spend time with my family could all be happy. I could hug and comfort my child if needed and we could play games. How difficult can these things be?

Pearl will come with me to school. Once she's switched on, little Pearl wants my full attention the entire day. I carry her into school strapped to me. I'm used to the other girls whispering about it to each other when they think I can't hear them. As we file into the Maths classroom, Franzi mutters to Carly; "she's carrying that freaky thing around again. Does she think she doesn't get enough attention as it is?"

"It's in her nature to want to look after something," Carly whispers back, "now quiet, she can almost certainly hear you." In maths I sit at my usual desk at the front. The scents of all the other girls and their various perfumes mingle. It used to make it harder to concentrate on Calculus, but I'm determined not to be the dunce of the maths set. Ms Stables doesn't comment on Pearl. Ohh dear, I know I'm going to fail Calculus. Even if Daddy had more time to help me with it and I wasn't distracted … Pearl wakes up emits her cry that is too high for pure humans to hear, so I cradle her in my arms causing a few girls to titter. Ms Stables frowns. "Kristin, you are not guaranteed an A in this subject. Not by a long way. You need to pay attention in class." The giggling around the room increases.

"She can't very easily help her instincts, Miss," says Carly.

"A cast iron excuse," says Franzi gravely. More giggling.

"Silence!" says Ms Stables frowning, "Kristin, there are to be no more disruptions, do you understand?"

"Weird alien girl," mutters Duscha from the corner of the room, too softly for anyone else to hear. I pretend I can't hear either.

"Do you understand, Kristin?" says Miss Stables, frowning at me. I nod, feeling a lump in my throat. I didn't want to be disruptive, but Pearl must be rocked when she's tetchy. Gosh, my lip's quivering. Pull yourself together, Kristin!

"I think perhaps you should go to the medical wing instead of lunch, if you really cannot help yourself," says Ms Stables and scribbles a note for me to take to the school nurse. Oh well.

The medical wing is quiet at lunch. The pungent stink of medicines and strong cleaning products invades my nostrils. Kathrin the school nurse greets me. "Didn't think I'd see you back here, Kristin," she beams at me with her cute crooked smile. "Your medical did show you can't get sick like we can."

Oh dear, this is embarrassing. At least I can't blush. "I'm not sick. I mean… Ms Stables thought it was a good idea… uh, here's her note," I say, quickly handing it to her. Kathrin purses her lips as she scans the note and then looks at me, her dark blue eyes inscrutable. "Well just take lunch in here," Kathrin gestures for me to sit on a soft leather couch, "I'll fetch you a snack. Then you'll be fine to attend class this afternoon."

I sit and cradle Pearl in my arms. Kathrin waves her hand and the Lunar lamp in its sickle phase drifts down from the ceiling to float around us, bathing us in a pale light. Pearl's restless at the moment, so I rock her and hum in a way I hope sounds soothing.

Suddenly I hear Carly's voice from the reception to the medical wing: "I understand Ms Stables sent Kristin here."

Kathrin's voice: "she did indeed. I have her note. By Pluto! What does she know about what is unnatural?"

"Careful, Kristin can certainly hear…"

Carly's come to visit me. That's so kind and sweet. "Hey Carly," I rasp and grin at her as she sits beside me, her face eerily pale in the Lunar light.

"Hey Kristin. Sorry Ms Stables felt like chucking her weight about," says Carly with a wry grin.

I tap my cheek. "Oh alright," says Carly and I brush my cheek against hers briefly, getting Carly's sweet scent on me. Her skin feels smooth and soft. I can hear that her breathing is a little quicker than usual and her face is glowing with excitement.

"Have you had good news, dear?" I ask. I think that's a good guess.

"Oh yes!" says Carly, beaming. "I have an audition at the Royal Ballet School. You know how much I want to be a ballerina."

"And you will be a great ballerina," I reply. Carly is so lithe and graceful, like a chestnut haired fairy. She has such a sweet face too. If I compared her to the prettiest face I've seen… Emily's face on TV was more perfectly proportioned and her features were exactly right, but Carly still looks really adorable and she has such a cute, pert little nose.

Carly takes a holocube from her pocket. "I may have to dress up as a leopard again for this audition," she says, her cheeks flushing slightly pink. She switches the cube on and an image of her in glowing lights shines forth. She is indeed made up as a leopard, complete with spots and yellow face paint. Carly is just so adorable in spots. It's a pattern that fits her delicate features so well. "That's so gorgeous," I purr and I put my arm around her shoulders.

"Thank you, thank you," says Carly, "now I know you've been unhappy lately and I wanted to help. You see, when on Saturday you were almost erm…" Carly looks uncomfortable and shifts on the couch. I wait for her to finish. "The thing is Kristin, I think you can help yourself by thinking about others. Don't take it the wrong way. I wouldn't suggest this to Shirley for instance, but you're a really sweet person and could help yourself that way. I think you could distract your mind if you thought how others have it worse than you. You will be able to have your family, but think about your bio-brothers. Society doesn't expect men to want to have babies in the way that women want to. I am certain that rigid gender roles don't help anyone. Think how it must be for them."

What an intriguing notion. And Carly is right. It's just so weird that society 'expects' men not to want to look after babies as much as women do. Like for so long it was the tradition that only women could be the homemaker. Really thinking about it, there are gaps in that logic. I can't complain for myself if my bio-brothers have to contend with this.

"You're right of course," I say, "it really is unfair on all men who are expected to be something if they don't want to be … I mean, those men who want to be homemakers don't get the respect they should."

Kathrin comes back and brings us cool, sparkling diamond cordial and a hot meat pie. Carly wants the VP on. The images arise from the machine. It's another news byte. The presenter appears and speaks:

"And there has been some contention as to whether HAM should be allowed to march through London this week."

Argh! My stomach heaves. I don't want to have to see HAM again, even in my nightmares!

"Now HAM really embody disrespectful and rigid thinking, the SchweinHunde," says Carly, curling her lip.

The presenter continues: "HAM's chairman had this to say."

The image changes to a severe looking older man.

"If we are ordered to stop the march, we will of course obey," he drawls, "but if we are only asked or advised to desist then I'm afraid it will go ahead…"

"I'd 'ask or advise' you to boil your head," says Carly, wrinkling her nose.

I have a really, really bad feeling about this. What's going to happen?