3 March, 2140
Peter says I’m a slave and that I should stand up for myself. He makes me so angry. I’m not a slave. I’m a good Surplus. It’s not like I chose to be one – it’s just the way things are and I don’t see why Peter has to make me feel bad about it.
He says he’s my friend and then he gets me upset and I feel like I can’t breathe properly because he talks about the Outside and he gets me imagining what it would be like, when it doesn’t matter because I’m a Surplus so Outside doesn’t belong to me.
If he was really my friend, would he say stupid, horrible things like that?
Peter isn’t afraid like the rest of us. And that makes him dangerous. It feels dangerous being with him because I never know what he’s going to say next, and whatever he does say, he’d never be able to say in front of Mrs Pincent. But sometimes he says nice things, or he looks at me and it doesn’t feel dangerous, it feels exciting, even though they’re probably the same thing. And I worry that it’s because underneath it all I’m not really Valuable Asset material, I’m just a Surplus, and however much I work and try my best I will always end up ‘letting myself down’ by liking things I shouldn’t and doing things I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t be writing right now. I shouldn’t have a journal. Maybe I’m really no better than Peter. Maybe it’s me that’s dangerous, after all.
The sexes at Grange Hall were segregated in a number of ways: firstly by the location of their dormitories, which were on separate floors; secondly by the timetable of their training sessions – at least half of the training sessions each day were single sex, focusing exclusively on the skills and expertise each would be expected to bring to their future employer; and thirdly by the ways in which they approached their confinement, the methods they employed to make their lives seem more bearable, their prospects less bleak.
The girls, with only one or two exceptions, got through each day by competing with one another over who was going to be most valuable, who could prove their genuine worth to Mother Nature. And whilst, on the surface, there appeared to be some camaraderie between the girls; whilst they would sometimes, in stolen moments, confide in each other and whisper forbidden thoughts about the Outside, about what it must be like to be born Legal, to have life stretched out ahead of you like a beautiful, soft carpet full of pleasure and expectations, in reality there was little friendship. Pity, sympathy and empathy were qualities that the female Surpluses could not afford the luxury of feeling; pity or sympathy extended to another could only highlight their own failings, their own destiny. And so, instead, the girls lived side by side, never letting their guard down fully, nearly always suppressing their instincts and questions, and constantly watching each other for the smallest transgression, even in stolen moments of leisure and recreation. In the hour or so before bedtime when, on the rare occasion that all chores had been completed satisfactorily for the day and the girls in Anna’s dorm had some free time, they would always play the same game. It was called Legal-Surplus, and would see one of the girls anointed ‘Legal’ for the duration of the game, and one other as her Surplus. The ‘Legal’ girl could ask her Surplus to do anything, from cleaning the floor with her tongue to eating faeces. The more creative and inventive the Legal could be in finding ways to humiliate and abuse her Surplus, the more the other girls would applaud and laugh until Lights Out were announced and the game’s Surplus would be allowed to escape her tormentor.
The boys, on the other hand, did not let their minds stray too far into the future, did not allow their thoughts to rest too long on the short life of servitude that lay before them. Instead, they coped with their frustration and restlessness by engaging in more physical activity. The rules of engagement in their game were similar to those employed in the female Surpluses’ game – one against one, with the other Surpluses acting as the audience, but in the boys’ version, the victim and bully were not chosen according to strict rotation; rather, the same boy or boys would be picked on and attacked by the same bullies, the others watching, vicariously feeling the pleasure of each kick, imagining the powerful feeling that would come from mastering another completely. The game would continue until the watching Surpluses could no longer control themselves and would throw themselves into the fray, kicking and punching the victim or anyone they considered to be weaker than them. Doing this allowed them, for a short time at least, to feel invincible, to feel as though they were no longer Surplus; the blood pumping around their body made everything outside the dormitory meaningless – their past, their present, their future.
Mrs Pincent and the Instructors knew of both these games and intervened rarely. In fact, Anna had seen Mrs Pincent smile and say that in these games the Surpluses were doing her job for her; the girls were learning to submit themselves fully to their Legal masters, whilst the boys were sorting out the weak from the strong, and taking their aggression out on each other, containing it so that no Legal ever need feel the brunt of it. Surplus boys were often employed in groups of two or three, with a weaker boy attached to two stronger ones, enabling this dynamic to continue until the boys were men and they were no longer gripped with the need to fight, to dominate. Hormone trials had been conducted years before to try and quell the Surplus boys’ appetite and need for aggression, but they were found to diminish their strength and brute force, so were soon abandoned.
Anna no longer engaged in the games in her dormitory. She was, after all, a Prefect now and was too old for such things. But the truth was that being a Prefect was not the reason for her looking the other way when one or other Surplus girl was forced to experience new, fresh, horrors, the result of feverish planning by whoever was playing the game’s ‘Legal’. The real reason that Anna could not bear to watch the tormentor or tormented was that recently she had begun to lose her appetite for the infliction of pain; she no longer felt comforted by watching another being bullied or, indeed, by tormenting another Surplus herself; no longer enjoyed the brutality and desensitisation that went with it. The shrieks of delight as the chosen Surplus was subjected to some new, horrible punishment used to make her feel elated and relieved, because whatever horrors lay ahead in her life could never be this bad, could never devastate her as the ‘Legal’ was devastating her slave for the night. But recently, Anna had begun to realise that the horror she faced in the life that lay before her was not in beatings, or humiliation. It was the horror of what they all were, what she was. Surplus. Unwanted. A Burden. Better off dead. And no amount of pain, no amount of desensitisation could take that away, or even make it matter slightly less.
That evening, when Anna returned from Female Bathroom 2, she found the game in full flow, with Sheila the Surplus and Tania her master. The sight immediately made her stomach clench with apprehension. Tania was a year younger than Anna, and a year older than Sheila. She had been at Grange Hall almost since birth and was a tall, large-boned girl with dark brown hair and even darker eyes. She towered above Sheila, who was so slight she looked as though a gust of wind might blow her over at any minute.
Sheila’s hair was a pale orange colour, the same colour as the freckles which covered her fragile, almost bluish skin. This, combined with her fragile frame and watery blue eyes, made her an easy target for bullying and insults; her steely determination and refusal to acquiesce to her bullies’ demands had only made humiliating her more attractive to her attackers. Until a couple of years before, when Anna had reluctantly begun to protect her, prompted mainly by the fact that Sheila had begun to follow her around, making her fights Anna’s fights, Sheila had been target practice for every bully at Grange Hall.
As Anna walked past, she averted her eyes, refusing the various invitations to watch, and trying to convince herself that the game was nothing to do with her. But as she reached her bed, she could hear the cries and taunts emanating from the other side of the dormitory getting louder, and reluctantly she turned to look. Then she frowned. To her surprise, Sheila was not face down on the floor with Tania’s foot on the back of her head, or completing some humiliating task. Rather, she was simply standing beside Tania’s bed, tears streaming down her face and her body trembling as she shook her head.
Anna looked away, but the noise from the watching Surpluses was becoming deafening, and eventually Anna turned round again. Sheila was still standing in front of Tania, now with red marks on her cheeks, no doubt the result of a slap or two. Other than that, she could see no other physical damage.
Biting her lip, she walked back towards the cluster of Surpluses. Tania was towering over Sheila, her eyes boring into hers, saying over and over again in a low voice, ‘Say it. Say it. Say it.’ Sheila, meanwhile, was shaking her head, her hands drawn into little fists.
Anna watched them for a few seconds. ‘It’s time for bed,’ she said. ‘You can stop the game now.’
A few of the Surpluses turned to her with strange looks in their eyes, and Tania, without moving her eyes from Sheila’s, shook her head. ‘She hasn’t done what I told her to do yet. The game can’t stop until she’s done it.’
Anna’s eyes shifted to Sheila. ‘Come on, Sheila,’ she urged, ‘just do what she said, then we’ll all go to bed.’
‘No, I won’t.’ Sheila’s voice was soft, and low, but it was also determined, and Anna felt her stomach sink. You weren’t allowed to say no. That was the rule. You had to do what the Legal told you; that was the whole point. No one ever said no. Why did Sheila have to be so defiant?
‘Sheila, it’s a game. You have to do what she says,’ Anna said, feeling the electricity around her as the other Surpluses stared in excitement at the scene unfolding before them.
‘I won’t,’ Sheila said simply. ‘I won’t.’
Anna looked at Tania. ‘What did you ask her to do?’ she asked. ‘Because if it involved leaving the dormitory or saying something to House Matron then you know that’s not allowed.’
Tania smiled icily. ‘I just asked her to say something, that’s all. And she won’t do it. So until she does, the game isn’t ending. OK?’
‘Say something?’ Anna asked uncertainly. ‘Is that all?’
She looked at Sheila. ‘Sheila, come on. Just say it. Whatever it is.’
Sheila shook her head. Her face was white with fury or fear – Anna couldn’t tell which.
‘What did you ask her to say?’ she asked Tania.
‘I told her to tell me that she hates her parents. That her parents are criminal scum and that they deserve to die,’ Tania said triumphantly.
‘I’ll never say it,’ Sheila said softly. ‘I don’t care what you do to me, I won’t say it.’
‘You have to say it,’ Tania said angrily. ‘I am your master. You have to do as I tell you, otherwise we are all going to beat you. And if you still won’t say it, then I’ll tell House Matron you don’t Know Your Place.’
As Anna watched Sheila standing bravely before Tania, her little back stiff and her eyelashes heavy with salty tears, she found herself thinking of Peter, hearing his words echoing around her head: ‘Your parents love you, Anna Covey. They love you.’
Then she braced herself. ‘Sheila, you have to say it,’ she said flatly. ‘It’s true, after all.’
Sheila’s eyes narrowed and she shook her head fiercely. ‘It isn’t true,’ she said in a low voice. ‘And I won’t say it.’
Tania was getting red in the face. ‘She will bend to my authority,’ she said hotly. ‘I am her master now. She will do whatever I tell her to.’
‘You are not my master,’ Sheila said suddenly. ‘No one is my master. I’m not a Surplus. My parents love me and I’m Legal, and I hate you. I hate you all.’
Tania stared at her, her mouth wide open, then she drew her hand back and slapped her hard around the face again. Then she pushed Sheila to the floor and started to kick her.
‘You do not talk to your master like that,’ she screamed. ‘You will learn some respect. You are a Surplus, Sheila. Do you hear? You are scum. You don’t deserve to breathe the same air as me. You don’t deserve to be in the same room as me. You’re scum, Sheila, you’re worthless.’ Tania looked around, her eyes flashing. ‘You’re all worthless,’ she said angrily. ‘You’re all scum. All of you.’
Charlotte, a short, stocky Pending who slept in the next but one bed to Anna, muscled forward at this point.
‘If anyone’s scum, you are,’ she said, folding her arms and looking at Tania menacingly. ‘You can’t even cook properly. You’re scum and useless and no one’s ever going to want to employ you and you’re going to end up being put down because there won’t be anything else to do with you.’
‘I can cook,’ Tania said, drawing herself up to her full height and taking her eyes off Sheila to glare at Charlotte. ‘And I can sew better than you too. No one will want to employ you because you’re too ugly to have in a nice house. No one would want to look at you all day, even if you learn Decorum and make yourself invisible. You’ll still be ugly.’
Anna glanced to the floor and watched Sheila inch away from Tania, wincing slightly from the pain, but her face still defiant. Charlotte wasn’t inching anywhere, though. Instead, she hurled herself at Tania, grabbing her by the hair and forcing her to the ground.
‘Useless . . . little . . . Surplus,’ she spat as she slapped Tania around the face. Tania wriggled on to her side and managed to aim a kick at Charlotte, who fell away, crying out with the pain. But before Tania could get up, Sheila appeared from nowhere, hurling herself on to Tania and punching her with little fists.
‘Stop,’ screamed Anna fiercely. ‘The game is over. It’s time for bed.’
‘I don’t want to go to bed,’ Charlotte said, looking Anna directly in the eye. ‘I don’t feel like it.’
Anna’s eyes narrowed. ‘Surplus Charlotte, Know Your Place,’ she growled. ‘I say it’s time for bed, and you will do as I say.’
Tania pushed Sheila off her and stood up. ‘And what if we don’t?’ she asked, her voice challenging. ‘Then what?’
‘Then you’ll be punished,’ Anna said fiercely. ‘I am a Prefect.’
‘I am a Prefect,’ Tania mocked, and a couple of the Surpluses laughed. ‘Well, Prefects have to Learn Their Place too,’ she said, pulling herself up to her full height and looking to the other Surpluses for moral support. ‘Maybe it’s time you played the game, Anna. Maybe it’s time you stopped being so high and mighty and remembered who you are. What you are. Just a Surplus, like the rest of us.’
Anna stared at her. ‘I know I’m a Surplus,’ she said angrily. ‘I Know My Place. I think it’s you who doesn’t.’
‘Really? Well, maybe you’re right. Maybe My Place isn’t in this dormitory,’ Tania said, her eyes flashing. ‘Maybe My Place is in another dormitory. Or on the corridor. Or on the Outside. Maybe My Place is somewhere completely different. What then?’
She stared at Anna for a moment, then tossed her head back and charged towards the door, opening it and motioning for the other Surpluses to join her. Charlotte followed cautiously, and Anna pulled Sheila back.
‘You stay here,’ she ordered. ‘You stay right here.’
Slowly, she marched out into the corridor to survey the scene. Tania and Charlotte were running down the corridor, knocking on dormitory doors and screaming out ‘Know Your Place, Surpluses, Know Your Place.’ One or two doors opened and nervous-looking female Surpluses poked their heads out; they were soon dragged into the corridor by Charlotte or Tania.
Anna slammed her own dormitory door to get their attention.
‘You will get back inside,’ she shouted, ‘and you will all go to bed. Now.’
Tania looked at her and laughed. ‘Or what, Surplus Anna? Or you’ll tell us off? Run to House Matron?’
‘Or I’ll beat you myself,’ Anna said fiercely. ‘You are Surplus, Tania, and you are to behave as a Surplus, to follow the rules and do as you are told. You have no right to exist, Surplus Tania, and if you can’t behave properly, then . . .’
‘Then what?’ Tania asked. Her eyes were wild and she looked dizzy with exhilaration.
‘Then you will be sent to Solitary.’
Silence fell along the corridor and Tania’s face went white as Mrs Pincent suddenly appeared.
‘And beaten,’ Mrs Pincent continued, walking towards Anna, her face impenetrable. ‘Anna, I heard you offer to beat Tania yourself. I would be most obliged.’
Anna looked at Mrs Pincent uncertainly. She had never been asked to beat a Surplus before. Surpluses weren’t supposed to raise their fist to anyone, not outside the strictures of the game.
‘Now,’ Mrs Pincent said forcefully. ‘So that everyone can see what happens to a Surplus who thinks they are above the rules, who thinks that they can do as they please and insult Mother Nature and humankind’s generosity in keeping them alive.’
Anna moved hesitantly towards Tania, who looked at her defiantly.
‘Hit her,’ ordered Mrs Pincent, who was now walking towards her. ‘Make her know her Sins. Help her to learn from her mistakes and to understand what being a Surplus means. Make her see that she is unwanted, a burden; that every step she takes along these corridors are steps that she has stolen. Make her see that she is worthless, that if she dies no one will care, that in fact the world will be better off with her not trespassing on it. Make her understand all that, Anna.’
Mrs Pincent’s voice was low and menacing, and Anna found herself trembling. Tania had to understand, she told herself. Tania had to learn, for her own sake. For all their sakes.
Slowly, she drew her hand back to swipe Tania across the face. Tania looked at her for a moment, then her eyes flicked up to Mrs Pincent and back again. And then she smiled at Anna, a mocking smile full of hatred and contempt.
Anna held her gaze for a second or so, and pulled her hand back again. Frustration and anger were bubbling up inside her and she wanted to vent her rage, but somehow she couldn’t do it. However much she wanted Tania to Learn Her Place, she couldn’t hit her. And the realisation frightened her, particularly as another smile began to wend its way across Tania’s face.
‘Hit me then,’ Tania hissed. ‘Go on. Or aren’t you as tough as you think, Surplus Anna?’
Anna stared at her, but still she found herself paralysed.
‘Thank you, Anna,’ Mrs Pincent said eventually. ‘Surplus Tania will spend the rest of the night in Solitary, as will Surplus Charlotte, after spending some time in my office. The rest of you will forfeit breakfast tomorrow and will have additional chores every evening this week.’
Immediately, the look of insolence in Tania’s eyes was replaced by fear, and Anna watched silently as she and Charlotte were taken away and the corridor quickly emptied.
‘Go and brush your teeth, and then I want lights out,’ she said, on autopilot, as she walked back into her dormitory, trying to work out why she felt so uncomfortable, trying to work out why she hadn’t been able to punish Tania. ‘Surpluses need good teeth,’ she continued, echoing the words she’d heard Mrs Pincent say so many times. ‘No one’s going to pay for dental treatment for a Surplus.’
Then, slowly, she walked over and checked on Sheila, who was sitting on her bed, hugging her knees to her chest.
‘Go and brush your teeth, Surplus Sheila,’ Anna said flatly. Then she looked around at the onlookers. ‘No more games until I say so. Does everyone understand? We are all Surplus here, and maybe we need to remember that for a few weeks.’
The Surpluses shrugged and nodded and filed out to the bathrooms to brush their teeth. Anna followed, and soon found Sheila standing next to her at the basin.
‘You know, Anna, I’m not a Surplus,’ Sheila whispered almost silently, wincing at the pain of moving her cheeks. ‘And one day they’ll realise and I’ll be free. And when I am, I’m going to have Surplus Tania as my housekeeper and I’m going to punish her every day. And I’ll have you as my housekeeper too, Anna, but I won’t punish you at all. Unless you deserve it, that is.’
And with her eyes fixed straight ahead, Sheila picked up her toothbrush and began to clean her teeth.