The Declaration

Sargent’s reddening face. This was why so many Pendings failed their readiness test, she realised suddenly. This was her first taste of challenging the doctrine, and it was absolutely delicious.
    ‘But Mother Nature likes new things, doesn’t she?’ she said boldly, wishing that Mrs Pincent could see indoctrinated Anna now. ‘I mean, old leaves fall off trees, don’t they? Why should the old humans stay and the new ones not be allowed? Is that really what Mother Nature wants?’
    Mr Sargent got up slowly and walked over to Anna’s table, where he looked down at her and struck her across the head. Then he grabbed her ear. ‘You vile creature,’ he said, spitting as he spoke. ‘You will pay for those words. You will pay for talking to me like that. You will be thrashed and sent to Solitary, my girl. Bit of time to think about what you’ve just said, that’s what you need.’
    As Anna heard the words she needed to hear, she found relief flooding through her. She could take a beating; now that she knew she was going to Solitary, she could take anything.
    Mr Sargent pulled her up and started to drag her across the room, bashing her into the other desks intentionally as he walked. As she passed Sheila’s desk, Anna felt Sheila’s gaze boring into her, and, unable to meet her eyes she looked down. She felt something brush against her leg, a touch of friendship, perhaps, and she felt her stomach clench with guilt. Sheila didn’t understand, she told herself as she was dragged away. Sheila couldn’t understand. Only Peter understood.
    ‘Thank you Mr Sargent. I’ll take it from here.’
    Mr Sargent stopped abruptly, dropping Anna to the floor. She looked up in shock to see Mrs Pincent standing in the doorway. Immediately, she lowered her eyes, but it was anger, not humiliation, that made her do it.
    ‘Marga— Mrs Pincent,’ Mr Sargent said angrily. ‘This girl has been saying blasphemous things. She needs to be punished. Beaten and thrown into Solitary.’
    ‘I see. Solitary is not the answer in my opinion,’ Mrs Pincent said curtly. ‘There is a great deal of cleaning to be done on the Smalls’ floor. Perhaps Anna would like to spend a couple of days up there, to . . . think about things.’
    Anna’s face fell. ‘I don’t mind going to Solitary,’ she said quickly, her voice betraying a slight desperation. ‘Really I don’t.’
    ‘I will decide the punishment, Anna,’ Mrs Pincent said evenly. ‘I think, when you are covered in excrement and urine, you may have a different view about your value to Mother Nature. You will be watched around the clock for forty-eight hours and you will be fed just once a day. When you return, your Prefect privileges will be taken away. Now, follow me.’
    Mrs Pincent’s voice was angry and low and Anna knew that resistance was useless. Feeling sick to her stomach at the realisation that what she’d thought would be her moment of triumph had turned out to be a hollow and pathetic failure, she walked to the front of the room, her legs shaking. Gone was her defiant stance, gone was the elation at finally challenging the Grange Hall doctrine, and back was the familiar feeling of submission and humility.
    Listlessly, Anna left the training room and followed Mrs Pincent to the Smalls’ floor, where instructions were given to a Domestic to keep her under constant supervision.
    It was as if Mrs Pincent knew her plans – as if she somehow knew that this was a far greater punishment than a night in Solitary. There was, Anna acknowledged with a desperate sigh, no way she’d be able to creep down to Solitary this evening. No way she’d even be able to get a message to Peter.
    And no way she’d ever be Anna Covey.
    Margaret Pincent sat down at her desk angrily. She’d known that Peter would disrupt things. Hadn’t she told the Authorities when they announced he was coming that it would mean trouble?
    It hadn’t even been one of the usual suspects to be corrupted either – it was Anna. Anna, who Mrs Pincent depended on so often to maintain order and root out miscreants. How had it happened? she wondered. How did Peter turn her?
    Then she sighed and shook her head. They were teenagers, she supposed. Perhaps Anna had developed a crush on him – or him on her. How remiss of her not to consider that, to have forgotten what it was like to be young.
    Well, she would beat any idea of romance out of Anna. And then she would have her transferred as soon as possible.