Mind Games by Teri Terry Read Free Book Online

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    ‘Though germ opportunities at school may be gone by the time Jason gets to secondary,’ Dad says.
    ‘Who’d want germs anyway?’ Jason says, it all going over his head.
    ‘Why, what do you mean?’ I ask Dad.
    ‘You really miss out on the news by not signing up for feeds,’ he says. ‘Secondaries are being phased out.’
    ‘Really?’ Jason says. ‘No more school in another year? Awesome!’ He looks very happy, and Dad laughs.
    ‘No, you’ll still have to go to school. But as your education post-ten is almost all virtual now anyhow, you don’t need to physically go there. You can do it virtually at home, right?’
    ‘What about sport? What about actually interacting with kids their own age, at lunch if no other time? What about Refusers?’ I say, the questions coming out in a rush.
    Dad looks uncomfortable. ‘Sport and social stuff are nearly all virtual now anyhow, and the cost savings will be huge. As for the other, not sure if they’ve worked it all out yet.’
    ‘Hmmph.’ Nanna’s dismissive noise sounds very like what I was just thinking. What about NUN’s International Bill of Rights of the Child? I glance at her across the table, but her eyes have slipped closed.
    After lunch I’m up in my room, packing. Sally has passed a message on from Melrose: she is lending me a dress for the formal tonight, and has sent along a detailed list of what everyone is wearing the rest of the week.
    Monday: smart black trousers, white shirt. And round glasses? Really? Given that all refractive errors requiring glasses have been corrected years ago, this, I’m guessing, is supposed to be the intelligent look. That’s the day of the IQ test. And no need to worry about packing beyond that, is there? I’ll fail it, and get an early ticket home.
    But a half-empty suitcase might raise suspicions. I throw in a few tops and jumpers, jeans and skirts, in a haphazard, random fashion, ignoring the list past the first day.
    There is a light tap on the door just as I’m zipping up my case. The door opens; it’s Dad. He comes in, shuts it behind him and sits next to me.
    ‘Heh,’ he says. ‘All ready to go? It’s almost four.’
    ‘Think so.’
    ‘Don’t look so worried. You’ll do well.’
    ‘No. I won’t.’ I sigh, look at my shoes. I won’t do well because I won’t allow myself to do well. But I can’t tell him that, can I?
    ‘None of that negative stuff, Loony-Tunes,’ he says, a name he hasn’t called me in years. ‘Your mother would be so proud of you.’
    Some lump twists in my throat, and I blink. He picks up her photo from my dressing table. Looks at me, then at her. ‘You look more and more like her every day.’
    ‘I do not! She’s gorgeous.’ I stare at the photo of Astra in his hands: the long thick dark hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, the mischief in her pale grey eyes. The Hacker’s intricate black swirls around her left eye, more than I’ve seen on anyone else, stand out stark on pale skin. Was she naturally pale, or was that just from spending too much time plugged in? Like Dad.
    ‘You’ve got her eyes, her hair. And her smile. Not that you use it enough. You know, Luna, you don’t have to keep doing this for her. Avoiding plugging in. She wouldn’t want you to limit your chances.’
    I stare back at him, and I’m this close to telling him that the way she died isn’t the reason I Refuse.
    But then there are footsteps on the stairs, and Dad hurriedly puts the photo down. Sally appears at the door. ‘Car is here,’ she says, smiling. ‘Wait till you see it!’
    ‘Knock ’em dead,’ Dad says. ‘Now I’m off to explore strange new worlds and all that.’
    ‘Trekkie Sunday?’
    ‘That’s it!’ He leans in to give me a hug, and says low in my ear: ‘And, Luna? No matter how it goes, she’d still be proud of you.’
    I bite back the words, but can’t stop them inside: if she was so concerned about me and my future, then maybe she should have stuck around