Toxic Treacle by Echo Freer Page B

moved on to the Providers’ Zone. Here, they spent their days working, evenings watching vids or drinking down the snug and weekends playing sports. They ate, they slept, they drank - a few took solace with the charity-spins - but a substantial number of providers found themselves bored after a while. The old rivalries of the hoods reared their heads from time to time to add spice and excitement but, for many, life lacked any purpose or meaning.
    â€˜Basically, we were all just waiting to move on to The Pastures - and die,’ he said.
    â€˜That’s what I kept trying to tell you,’ Tragic chipped in. ‘It wasn’t this Utopia that T.R.E.A.C.L.E. wanted us to believe.’
    Monkey looked at Tom, ‘And you’re telling me it took sixteen years for the coin to drop?’
    Tom smiled. ‘No - about five, actually - and then another couple to get out.’ Monkey raised his eyebrows as though to say, go on . ‘I was one of the ones who did carry on with my education...’
    â€˜Now, why doesn’t that surprise me,’ Monkey sneered, trying not to show his disillusionment that everything he’d believed in; had hoped for all his life, was a sham.
    Tom went on, ‘I became a teacher...’
    â€˜Figures!’ Monkey interjected.
    â€˜...and, seeing the students growing up and moving on, touched something in me. I got to wondering about my own child.’ He looked across the room at Jane; there was softness in his expression. ‘And his nurturer.’ Tom turned back to Monkey. ‘I wanted to know what they were doing, what my son looked like. I knew Jane had miscarried a couple of times but I didn’t know if she’d chosen someone else to breed with after I went on to the Providers’ Zone, and it started to eat away at me.’ Monkey shook his head as though dismissing Tom as a wuzzle and silently thinking that he could now see where Tragic got it from. ‘One evening, I was playing racquetball with another guy and he told me he felt the same way. And it started from there.’
    The men had made contact with the nurturers of their children, publicly at first to avoid suspicion then, when it was clear that there was still attraction between some of them - like Tom and Jane - they continued to meet in secret, Tom going to the house several times a week.
    â€˜So, they were your clothes in the cellar,’ Angel observed.
    â€˜Yes, and when Security started to snoop around, we had to get an extra freezer and cut it open so that I could hide down there in case there was a raid.’
    â€˜Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!’ Monkey stood up and began pacing the floor. ‘You’re telling me this has been going on for years?’
    He turned to his friend. ‘And you didn’t think to mention this?’
    Tragic looked away guiltily. ‘I didn’t know until recently,’ he pleaded. ‘But then, when I did find out, I couldn’t say anything. Like Dad says, Security was hot and I couldn’t risk you letting it slip.’
    Monkey snorted. ‘Cheers for the vote of confidence.’
    Three clear knocks sounded from the front door of the cottage and the room fell silent. Tragic, Tom and Jane looked at each other anxiously. Tom made a gesture for the others to remain quiet and Jane, clearly agitated, indicated for him to take Tragic, Monkey and Angel to the back of the room behind the screen that separated the kitchen area. Two distinct knocks followed and Jane relaxed slightly and, when a further three knocks were heard, she breathed deeply and went to answer the door.
    â€˜What’s going on, Tradge?’ Monkey whispered from behind the sheet of fabric that had been strung across the back of the room.
    Tom peered round the edge of the screen then, visibly relieved, went out to meet the two males who had entered the cramped room, one wearing women’s clothing.
    Tragic replied, ‘We’re expecting an escapee