Sample Translation of "Condemned": Start of 'Eleria' Trilogy by bestselling Ursula Poznanski by Loewe Verlag

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

Excerpt Translation from:

Die Verratenen (Bd. 1) (Condemned, Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

Specifications: 1.0 x 22.0 cm, no. 7546, hardback with dustcover, spot varnish and book mark 464 pages, publication date October 2012 for readers aged 14+

A translation by Sarah Tolley

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

1 I knew that something terrible must have happened as soon as Tomma walked into the room. She wasn’t crying, or shouting, but I knew by the way her eyes darted at me and then moved off abruptly, like a ball bouncing off a wall. It was because her lips were so pale, her dark hair straggling all over her face, and, above all, her hands, which were so tightly clenched that the knuckles had turned white. I broke off in the middle of my speech, it was no good, anyway, and Grauko, the only person listening to it, had stopped paying attention. He had turned to face the door. Even if he had read Tomma’s expression the same way as me, he showed no sign of it. He spoke in his usual laid-back voice: “Yes?” “There were… it was…” I stared at Tomma as she fought for breath and felt my own throat constricting. Had one of the domes fallen in? Had the Outside Guards been attacked again? “The expedition,” Tomma managed to gasp at last. “They’re dead, all three of them.” Instantly, I went cold all over and I dropped to my knees so I wouldn’t faint. I could feel my heart thumping in my ears as loudly as the words that Tomma had spoken.

Her lips were trembling and her eyes were brimming over with tears as she spoke, her voice cracking, “Raman, Curvelli and Luria. They were attacked as soon ... as they got out of... The Prims must have known, they must have been on the lookout for them.” “Tomma!” Grauko had turned pale and he didn’t tell her off for using that denigratory term, Prims, with his usual sharpness. He had taught Curvelli and Lu, and must have been feeling just the way I did. Tomma did not correct herself, as she would normally have done. She was crying, and I wanted to as well. I started hyperventilating and was having trouble swallowing. Lu, I thought, and her face swam into view in front of me, as alive as it had been three days ago, when we’d been looking for mushrooms in the Growing Vaults. She had been holding her lamp in her teeth while taking samples and placing them in glass tubes.

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

“You’ll see”, she had said when we had finished, “I’ll bring a whole lot more in from outside. They’re saying there are some more new species, further south.” That expedition was supposed to have been the high point of her final year of training, not her death. Tomma was walking away and her shape had gone all blurry, for all that I was desperately trying not to cry. Lu. During the space of one month she had worked her way up three levels and now... I refused to believe it. This wouldn’t be the first false announcement; maybe it would all turn out to be a mistake by night-time. “Ria? Is everything OK?” I gave myself a shake. A single tear had worked its way down my chin and I wiped it away before it could drip onto the floor. Grauko was looking at me, holding his head at an angle and noting everything internally, as always. He was mentally storing away every one of my reactions. “I’m alright now.” I gave him a nod and turned to follow Tomma; maybe they knew more about it all in the central dome. “Stay here, please, we haven’t finished. I would like you to make another speech. The one that was interrupted earlier wasn’t particularly good.” He stroked his dark beard and said, “Start again from the beginning.” I stared at him. Was he serious? Now? “I’m not in the right mood. They were my friends...” “You can’t pick your moods. You must be able to pull yourself together in any situation and convince people.” He gave me a smile that was full of sympathy and pain. “Nobody said it was going to be easy. So, guess what? I’m going to make it even more difficult for you; I’m going to give you a new theme. It’s called: it is our duty to assist the clans and tribes. Anyone who discriminates against Outside Dwellers has failed to understand the meaning of the spheres.” Grauko is my favourite mentor. He’s taught me more than anyone else, and I don’t respect anyone more than him. At that particular moment, though, I would gladly have yelled back; helping the clans is our duty? They murder our researchers, destroy our work, attack our transports and break the peace again and again. And us? We send them aid packages.

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

I had to get these ideas out of my head, or I wouldn’t be able to perform the task Grauko had set. I had to dismiss Lu from my head together with the urge to smash the heads of the people out there with a stone, every one of them. Just the way they probably killed Lu. “Imagine that you are in the New Berlin Sphere 3. It’s really bad there, so many attacks, not a bit like here. People on both sides are regularly killed. Your job is to explain to the inhabitants that there is no question of responding with force. You are representing the position of the Alliance of the Spheres.”

My grieving for Lu buried itself into my body, digging holes in my stomach and breast. I am sure it was tracing its lines on my face, although there was nothing to be seen apart from sympathetic concern. Dignity. I thought of a white wall. Took a deep breath. “We are privileged,” I began, shoulders straight, voice firm. I allowed an almost imperceptible smile to hover over my lips. I was supposed to look reliable at this stage. “Our harvests have been good this year and we have managed to build and settle two more Spheres. We are protected against storms, cold weather and wild beasts, we have access to medicine, modern technology and clean water. With every day that passes, science is making our lives easier.” I ran my eyes from left to right, as if the room had been full of people. “I know that most of us think that we have earned all this. You are right about that, in part at least. Our forefathers built our Spheres. They believed what Melchart told them, back then, and that was how they saved themselves and us. They preserved the knowledge of those days and developed it further, in order to give civilisation a chance. We are privileged, but we should also be aware of how fortunate we are.” “Apart from the fact that what we’ve been toiling night and day for it!” Grauko interrupted, imitating the New Berlin Sphere 3 speech patterns. “Yes, we work hard, I agree, you, me, every one of us. The earth has not yet recovered and it will take a great deal of time before that happens. But, take a look at yourself. Look at your hands – are they scarred by frostbite? Are you stunted by starvation? Has a wolf bitten off a leg? No? But that’s normality outside the Spheres, and if you were in their shoes, you too would do everything you could to make life a bit more bearable.”

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

No reproachful overtones, that’s the most difficult part. No righteousness or you’ll lose them. I knew I’d found the correct tone when Grauko nodded at me. “We are working so hard,” I went on, “so that one day, we will be able to take in the ones who have survived outside the Spheres. Right now that would be dangerous for us all – we don’t have enough supplies, or space. But we are drawing closer to this aim, every day, we come a little closer. However, it’s understandable if the clans don’t want to wait. I would feel just the same in their shoes.” “Not wanting to wait, and wanting to kill us are two different things,” Grauko yelled, still playing the part of a New Berliner. Lu is standing in front of me, again. She was so committed to the clans, and felt real sympathy and understanding when they robbed and attacked. As I responded, I had the feeling that the words sliding over my lips were hers. “They don’t know any better. We in the Spheres have preserved the ways of civilisation that we knew before the Outbreak. The people outside have lost that, along with all the other things. You call them Prims, but they are not primitive, but exposed to the world in all its harshness. We should bear this constantly in mind, for all that it’s difficult. After all, we are the ones that are keeping them at arms’ length. Not for ever, but for as long as it takes to find a way, to take them in without bringing about our own downfall.” A short pause, another glance across the room. Piling on the sympathy, now. “During this period that we require, each time there is a storm, a flood, an earthquake, hundreds of people out there die. The clans blame us for that, though they’re wrong, and we should try to understand. It isn’t easy to be fair, when one is starving or freezing. We are not dealing with wild animals, but with desperate people who are suffering, who we must help as much as we can. If we could make their situation a little easier, there would be fewer attacks. That’s out of the question.” I’d almost convinced myself, and I could tell from Grauko’s expression that he was pleased too. “You can go,” he said. “That was much better than your first attempt. Not your best speech, not good enough for points. But good enough for addressing mine workers.” He was right. I nodded.

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

“What you’ve demonstrated is that you can apply your skills in extreme situations, too. Personally, I am delighted.” Praise from Grauko’s lips was an unusual and precious event, the best I could hope for at that particular moment. For anyone who had risen as high up the levels as me, points could only be earned for super-human stuff.

He dismissed me with a wave of his hand; I stepped into the corridor and started running. Now, I could cry, I was allowed to cry, but the tears didn’t come, only a whimpering sound that could also have been due to shortness of breath. I ran out of the Academy block, past the library, the inner quarters and the Medcenter. Lu is dead, I thought with every step. Lu. Is. Dead. Lu. Is. Dead.

I had scarcely known the other two. Raman had always hung out with the physics people, and Curvelli had only once attended the same self-analysis seminar as me, when he had stood out on account of his resolute silence every time the conversation came round to his wishes and aims. He was a silent type and very self-possessed. Mostly ranked at around 20 and 25. Someone the mentors had their eyes on as a potential future leader of the physical research centre. Now, he was dead.

People said that the Prims ate human flesh during periods of extreme cold. Run. Left, right, faster. A beam of sunshine pierced the hermetically sealed plastic dome and mingled with the light from the lamps on either side of the connecting passage.

Not far now, just straight through Sphere 9a, but my salvator had already started squeaking when I stepped inside. Pulse 182, anaerobic field, was on the display. I ground to a halt and it was only then that I noticed how hectic my breathing had become. A worker from the big laundry greeted me with a smile as she hurried past, her arms full of white, starched cloth. Did I know her? I couldn’t be sure; a bad sign. I took the rest of the way at a normal tempo and tried to arrange my words, somehow. I would have to speak to the others, but I was used to that. How to convey bad news had been one of the first lessons I had learnt from Grauko.

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

2 The students were sitting around the plexiglas table in the Agora Café, chatting quietly. I walked round the monument to Melchau that stands right in the middle of the central dome. Right beside it, and only a bit smaller, is a towering column dedicated to Richard Borwin, who built the Spheres. Our academy is named after him. Aureljo was sitting with his back to me, his hair the colour of a lion’s mane, and every time I saw him I just had to touch it. Smooth and firm. He turned to face me, and I knew I didn’t have to say anything. Someone had told him – I should have known that. He had been group leader for months and if anyone was going to be kept informed, then it was him. “Ria.” He pulled me onto his lap and I slung my arms round his neck. He winced and I loosened my hold immediately. “I’m so sorry.” He must still be in pain; why hadn’t I thought of that? Probably because I had grown used to his new face so quickly. No, not a new face. Of course not. Choose your words carefully, I heard Grauko saying in my ear.

So, his altered face. The bruising has almost gone and the scars likewise. The Medcenter surgeons know exactly how to conceal the evidence of their work while achieving the desired results. In Aurelio’s case, it had meant taking a tiny bit off his nose, lifting his eyebrows, and the corners of his mouth, enlarging his cheekbones, and removing the little round birthmark beside his left eye.

Before their intervention, it had been a good face, full of friendliness. Now it was compelling. You just had to see Aureljo to trust him, want to be beside him, listen to him. That had been the idea. Even before he had said a word, people would want to agree with him. I laid my forehead carefully on his shoulder saying, “Have you heard about it too?” He nodded, ‘It’s awful.’ “So it’s been confirmed officially?” “Yes. They’re bringing the bodies back today. It’s only two, anyway. Curvelli’s body could not be found, the attackers must have taken it away.” My lips were forming the word why, but I quickly swallowed it.

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

Aureljo stroked my hair, whispering, “I’m so sorry about Lu.” Tears, at last. The light blue material of Aureljos’s shirt turned dark blue above his shoulder. “We should deal with them once and for all,” said Tudor, who was sitting opposite and had been listening to our conversation, not surprisingly as the others had all stopped talking. Now Tudor leant forwards and eyeballed Aureljo, saying, “We must get rid of the Prims, at least from the area directly around the Spheres and the magnetorails. We have put up with their attacks for long enough.” Although I can’t stand Tudor, I would gladly have agreed with him. If we don’t defend ourselves soon enough, one day they will find a way into the spheres and cut our throats while we are sleeping. Sometimes, defending oneself means being the first to strike. As long as there’s still time. “Wrong!” Grauko said inside my head. “Uncivilized, inhuman.” “You didn’t need to study at the academy to come up with that sort of notion,” Aureljo replied. He was still stroking my arm, over and over, but his mind was elsewhere. He was concentrating fully on Tudor. “Getting rid of the problem simply by striking back – that’s how the cavemen used to do it. It’s a poor model, and has had catastrophic results, for thousands of years.”

It was going to be a long discussion, as always, whenever Aureljo and Tudor started on a theme. Normally, I would get stuck in, too, but I wasn’t feeling up to it. Good enough for mine workers, Grauko had said about my speech. This time, though, everyone round the table was at the academy, and they would pounce pitilessly on each of my arguments. My eyes wandered automatically to Table 1, as they always did whenever I was there. My eyes were smarting, but I could still make out the huge numbers and letters that covered almost the entire wall. I spotted my name at once. Still in 7th place. Good. Aureljo was top of the list, something we had all got used to, but it rather looked as if Tudor had managed to reduce the distance between them. Last year, he had been Number 1 for three weeks and nobody who had been there at the time would ever forget his fury when he learnt that he had dropped back to 2.

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

I found Lulu on Table 4, which made me wonder for a moment if it had all been a mistake. Number 78. Brit came just after that, and I wondered if she would be glad about moving up a place. Just as I was about to turn back, three sentinels walked through the dome entrance. I recognised one of them; he wore the green uniform of the area guards and occasionally patrolled the passages between the various residential sectors. His lank red hair was sticking to his head, as if he were in a sweat. The second sentinel was a Blue, in other words, a Science guard, but I searched in vain for any colour-coding on the other man’s collar and cuffs. He was grey all over; trousers, shirt, jacket. Maybe he was new and waiting to be assigned to a unit? No, he was too old for that, and anyway, it looked as if the other two were following him, not the other way round.

They walked along the wall of the dome and the colourless one pointed up to Table 1. He spoke to the area guard, then walked over to Table 3, and pointed upwards again. It was definitely about the dead persons. First, Curvelli, who was listed no 24, and then Raman, 70. Why were they in such a hurry to take the names down? “.... it challenges our entire system.” Aureljo was saying just then. “We have laws.” I poked him gently to draw his attention, saying, “Can you see the sentinel beneath Table 3?” “Yes, why?” “Which grouping does he belong to, the one with no colours? A Commando? I thought they always had gold collars.” “So they do.” He watched the three men for a while. “You’re right. It’s unusual. He must be a visitor from another Sphere. Maybe from abroad.” “So, there’s a different colour rule over there?” “Not that I know of. Maybe he’s just moved here and hasn’t been assigned to anything yet? I’ve never seen him before.” That was possible, but the unknown’s sentinel’s domineering attitude said something different to me. He was behaving like an official from the Alliance of the Spheres, though they don’t wear uniform. Tudor, too, was watching the man closely and breathing rather more quickly. Interesting.

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

“I think Ria is right,” he said. “Commando. Maybe he has removed his colours to prevent people from gossiping.” My own pulse was racing and I took some deep breaths to prevent my salvator from starting up. Tudor was right. The sentinels from Commando only made an appearance when danger was looming. Like when the Prims blew up the outer shell of Dome 17. Or two years back, after the attacks on the provision transports from Genoa 4 Sphere. Sometimes, they would also be accompanied by important personalities, like when they were on a tour of the Spheres. We watched in silence as the unknown man walked towards the next table. He pointed upwards again and I was sure he was pointing at Lu’s name. Now that he was standing closer to us, my last doubts about what Tudor has said vanished.

His bearing, manner, and self-assurance, and his abrupt movements. This man is accustomed to giving orders. They’ve sent someone from the Commando on account of the three dead students, I thought, and a warm sensation coursed through me because it was a well-deserved honour for Lu, Raman and Curvelli. Then I noticed Tudor. He must have thought himself unobserved and for a few moments forgotten to control his emotions. Behind his ironic laugh and carelessly raised eyebrows I suddenly saw naked, blank, fear.

3 “I am trained to recognise that sort of thing,” I protested. Aureljo was walking two steps in front of me and though I could only see the back of his head, I knew he was smiling tolerantly. “We’re all worried, after all.” He stopped, turned and put his arms round me. “Tudor was friends with Raman, did you know that? He’s grieving, though he doesn’t show it.” “He’s scared.” How could I explain the difference to Aureljo? It was like trying to explain to someone who can’t play a note how to read a score. A person’s feelings, whether open or suppressed are like an orchestra when it’s playing; there’s so much going on at the same time. If one only looks at the eyes, the hands or the voice, it’s easy to get it wrong.

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

“He was furious and sad, that’s right. But then...” I tried to find the right words. “When Tudor saw that sentinel, he flinched internally. His chin tensed, his left hand grabbed his right hand. He blinked more rapidly.” I sighed and gave a shrug. “He’s shocked and frightened. Believe me or let it be.” Aureljo leaned down and put his head near mine. “I believe you. I know what a good eye for people you have. But, can you explain why he is so scared? After all, the Commando is there to protect us during crisis situations.” There was nothing I could say in reply. If I’d had to make a guess, I would have said that Tudor’s fear was related to this sentinel, the person, rather than any imminent attack. Of course, I could ask him straight out, but there were limits to my fondness for mocking laughter and gross comments. “Maybe he knows something we don’t!” It was only after I had spoken that I realised that was probably the truth. We separated in front of the entrance to the external quarters.

Aureljo turned left and I turned to the right. The area guard sentinels greeted me with a nod and ran their scanners over the ID code that’s fixed to the side of my salvator. The ‘in’ counter jumped to 145, or something like that because the middle figure kept flickering on and off. There had been a shortage of spare parts since the attack on the latest Transport. I wondered what the Prims used LED bulbs for.

The fact that there were so many students in their quarters at this time of day was surely due to the bad news. None of us would actually attend a funeral service un-prepared, as any one of us could, theoretically, have been summoned to make a speech. My residential unit was on the second floor; I close the door behind me and collapse onto the sofa.

Ever since I had made the top ten I had been allocated two rooms, just for me. There was daylight, and even a window to look out of. Properly outside, not just the sky, or one of the courtyards between the domes. Such spaces are few and far between in Hope Sphere, where one generally has the feeling of being inside the labyrinthine and swollen organs of a transparent animal. In my quarters, though, it was different. From my place on the sofa I could

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

watch the patrolling sentinel, outlined blackly against the snow, like a shadow shaped from the darkness. Far, far away, beyond the wall that surrounds the spheres, a hill rises gently and slopes down again. When I can’t sleep, I often sit beside the window and gaze at its curved shape, and at night time I look for the moon. Perfect beauty, that’s not been made by human hands, is different from anything else around me. I’ve got 40 minutes till the funeral service, the info board on the wall tells me. I rip off my clothes and wash the day’s events off me in the shower. Then I put on my robe for official events, red for fire and grey for ashes. The colours of the Alliance of the Spheres.

I see my pale face staring at me from the mirror, my hair still damp and clinging to my head and shoulders. Chestnut brown, that’s the colour that Lu always gave it. One of those old-fashioned terms she loved so much, because they sound so mysterious. After all, she only knew what chestnut trees looked like from pictures. I closed my eyes and imagined that it was rain that had made my hair wet. Did rainfall feel the same as a shower? I had read descriptions, old novels are full of rain, but had only seen it a couple of times, myself. It had been noisy, banging on the outer surface of the domes and covering them with water. Quite different to the silent, soft snow that fell almost every day.

There was no time for daydreaming. I twisted my hair into a knot while doing my usual exercises in front of the mirror. Starting with an inscrutable expression, then adding a little sympathy. Then, deprecation, empathy, hidden opposition. Open opposition. Confidence. Esteem. I’ve always had trouble with forbearance, so I broke off in mid-exercise. I stared at myself in the mirror and wondered whether the directors of the academy had decided to alter my appearance, too. I hadn’t heard anything about it and didn’t know if that was a good or bad sign. Presumably, they didn’t yet know where I was going to be assigned - whether to front or backstage duties. Maybe they did not want to risk me having to learn the expressions all over again with an altered face.

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

My forehead could be a bit higher, my chin a bit more pointed, and my nose a bit neater. My eyes are a good colour, Grauko often says. Light brown is very good for arousing trust. I gave myself a nod and arranged my features in a trustworthy expression. When you look like that, I would betray my deepest secrets to you, Lu had said recently. Thinking about her made me stagger and almost fall. Lu, who had been friendly with everyone, and had been murdered by the very people she had wanted to help. I turned away from the mirror, covered my face with my hands and did what I had been wanting to do the whole time; cry, until the tears stopped coming.

I was one of the last to enter the ceremonial hall. It was quiet; people were whispering as if they didn’t want to disturb the people in the three coffins on the dais. Three metal boxes, one of which was empty. I wondered which one it was. It made me feel faint, just to see them, especially the fact that they were closed.

Normally, mourners were allowed to cast a final glance at the faces of the dead persons, before they were cremated. This time, did they mean to hide the fact that there were only two bodies lying in the coffins? Or was there a different reason? I looked around for Aureljo and spotted him right at the front. He was staring at the ground and only looked up when I stopped right beside him. “Sit beside me,” he whispered and grabbed my hand. “Why are the coffins sealed?” I simply had to ask. Aureljo shook his head, “I don’t know.” However, he too had guessed something, though he didn’t want to tell me what, and he smiled at my hand in his so that he wouldn’t have to meet my eyes.

The thought that no one was uttering suddenly took shape inside my head. Battered faces, smashed heads. Pretences. Cover-ups. Were they trying to protect us? So that we wouldn’t be too frightened to engage in outside missions? I snuggled up to Aureljo and hid my face in his chest. All at once, hatred for the Prims welled up inside me and took my breath away. Something that Grauko had never clearly stated but which I had often discerned in his words,

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

suddenly seemed impossible; that it could be my duty to act as a negotiator between the people inside and outside the spheres.

All around us, the whispering was drying up; Aureljo’s back stiffened and I straightened up too. Gorgias, the rector of our academy, walked between two of the coffins and passed a hand over his bald head before starting to speak. I only heard half of what he was saying, being unable to tear my eyes away from the coffin that I had decided Lu was lying in. I only started to pay attention when Gorgias referred to the death of the three students as an accident, and not as a barbaric murder, as would have been correct. “....we grieve for Raman, named after the Indian Nobel Prize winner, in whose footsteps he could have walked. We grieve for Luria, named after the trail-blazing microbiologist whose research she sought to emulate. And we grieve for Curvelli. He had many gifts, and could have applied them equally well as a researcher or as a statesman. His name-givers had formed his name from a combination of Curie and Machiavelli, and he could have achieved both potentialities. Now, these potentialities have given way to harsh reality. But our aims remain the same. We will not be led by thoughts of revenge but by common sense.”

Aureljo pressed my hand. Gorgias was speaking from his soul. I did not take my eyes off him once, our Rector, waiting for one drooping eyelid too many, one false tone, that would betray the fact that he did not mean what he was saying. However, he was either beautifully trained or just telling the truth.

After him, the acting manager of our Sphere made a speech and I stopped concentrating again. He is a little man with a soft voice, whose strong point is climate research, not gripping his hearers.

Behind the three coffins, five sentinels were standing against the wall, staring straight ahead. I reluctantly sought out the sentinel from earlier on that afternoon, who had worried Tudor so much. But he was nowhere to be seen. We stayed put until the coffins had been conveyed to the furnace. Nobody mentioned the fact that one of them was empty and nothing was said about where Curvelli’s body might be...

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

Curie and Machiavelli. A scientific genius and a power-obsessed politician. I wondered if Curvelli had lived up to this combination, and also, as so often before, which duties would be assigned to my own name. My name-givers had formed Eleria from Eleanor of Aquitaine and Ariadne, the daughter of Minos, king of Crete. Eleanor had been one of the most powerful women of the medieval period, and Ariadne the one who had the idea of using a red thread to find a way out of the labyrinth. Was I meant to head up a Sphere one day? Or to remain in the background and hold the threads in my hands? I held on tight to Aureljo’s hand while walking to our quarters. For him, things were easy; his name made it clear. A leader, wise and kind, like the Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius. Number 1 on the list, where he would probably remain for the rest of his life.

Shortly before we came up to the duty sentinel in front of the entrance to the residential quarters, he stopped. New snowflakes had begun their silent dance above the dome. “Let’s walk a little further?” Aureljo pointed at the atrium, the small triangular spot where domes 6a, 6b and 6c met. The door was guarded by two sentinels, who registered everyone that went outside.

They greeted us and smiled as they let us pass. Wherever he goes, Aureljo is loved, and his altered face makes people react to him in an even friendlier way. We stepped outside and the icy air immediately sliced into my skin. My breath formed clouds and cold damp flakes settled on my forehead. I would gladly have slipped back indoors, into the cleansed, warmed air of the spheres, but Aureljo wrapped his arms around me and hugged me so tightly that I could feel his heart beating. “Try and bear it,” he said softly in my ear. “Just five minutes, or four.”

I pressed against him and hid my face in the pit of his neck. From outside, we must have looked like two people who couldn’t bear to be apart and were seeking a moment to themselves under the open sky, in order to feel the universe in all its endless grandeur.

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

To some extent, that would have been right. However, Aureljo was determined that I should be aware of how cold I felt, of how raw my lungs were, and how icy the melted snow was that was trickling down my nape. I understood what he was saying; for me five minutes, for others, an entire lifetime. It was not for me to judge. But Lu is dead, I wanted to protest. And Raman, and Curvelli. I pulled away from Aureljo and took a step back. “I know,” he said. “I’m appalled, too. But we must not give free rein to hatred, or it will influence the way we think.” For the first time since hearing the dreadful news I wanted to laugh. Aureljo had surpassed himself, he had read my face as if it had been a book. Grauko would have been proud of him.

4 3 units protein, 5 units carbs, 1 unit fat, popped up on my salvator just as I was taking it off to go to sleep. I released the broad strap and wiped the hand-sized display unit. The letters had turned red – if I failed to respond, the information would be sent to the Medcenter. That was just what I needed.

Even thinking about eating made my stomach heave, and I decided to not respond. Nobody would benefit if I spewed their precious foodstuff all over the place. The instrument started to emit a shrill and protesting beeping noise when I pressed the rest button before I’d done what it was telling me to do.

Then everything went quiet. I turned the light in my room down to the lowest level, sat by the window and gazed at the sentinels as they did their rounds along the wall. Their thick coats made them look like animals, animals which I only knew from books.

My disobedience cost me three test tubes of blood, quite apart from the time that I wasted in the Medcenter. I had been summoned out of a Geology lesson and would have to catch up on the geological layers at a later stage. Not surprisingly, I was in an awful mood.

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

The doctor, whose name I didn’t know, held three packets of protein biscuits up to my nose, but before he could start his lecture on correct eating habits, I jumped out of the chair. “Yesterday, I lost a friend, and I expect some understanding for the fact that it ruined my appetite.” I spoke sharply without the slightest intention of softening my voice. That over-zealous doctor just had to accept that I was annoyed, regardless of the fact that he was three times my age. He promptly began to defend himself. “We are held responsible when one of you collapses,” he told me, “and it’s even worse when it’s one of the top ten. You are the Borwin Academy’s most precious capital and we need to keep an eye on you, especially. But you can avoid making another visit to this place if you obey your salvator’s instructions.”

I glanced at the biscuits I was holding. Packed in an airtight greyish-blue wrapper. “None of us is suffering from malnutrition,” I retorted. “We are being educated to bear responsibility, and if I think it’s right to miss a meal, on account of having suffered a major personal loss, then I want that to be respected. I have enough medical knowledge to judge whether or not it will harm me.” I stared at him unrelentingly. Next time, he would think carefully before summoning me on account of a couple of unconsumed calories.

The doctor shifted uneasily on his chair. It was not my tone of voice that was upsetting him, it was my standing. As a 7, I would sooner or later hold a high position in the Alliance of the Spheres and he didn’t want to alienate me, though he was clearly not happy at being told off by an eighteen year-old. He swallowed, stared at his hands and then backed down. “Sorry about that. We didn’t mean to hassle you, we are just worried when irregularities occur.” “Next time, please make sure there is something wrong with my results beforehand. Then I will gladly come along and allow my blood to be siphoned away.” I wondered whether to chuck the biscuits onto the table, but decided not to. I had surely gone too far already, by humiliating the doctor, though all he’d done was follow his instructions. It was only because I wanted to demonstrate how unwilling I was to be summoned. Not for such a minor detail.

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

“You will get the results in three hours time,” he murmured, avoiding my eyes. “You don’t have to come here, I will post them to your salvator, if you are OK about that.” “Good.” He had given way, just as I had wanted, and I now felt a wave of shame welling up inside me and settling at the back of my neck. Aureljo would never have behaved like that; he’d never have used his position as the Academy’s number 1 to score off another person. Dammit. I took a deep breath and was about to leave when the doctor spoke quietly, saying something that made me pause. “Luria was often with me. I am deeply affected by her death. She wanted to start a placement in the Medcenter, did you know that?” “No.” I looked at him, apologising mutely. “So young, and so healthy,” he muttered. “So talented.” I nodded. Beneath the doctor’s eyes, the first signs of bagginess were beginning to show and all at once I wanted to stroke his neatly-parted hair. He could have been my father, if I had had one.

The afternoon was spent in the cultivation houses in the outer domes 19 and 20. The younger students were looking for damaged plants, while we prepared samples for chemical analysis.

I was standing between Tudor and Aureljo; they were unusually silent that day. Every time the sentinels appeared in the gallery on the wall high above our heads, Tudor’s head would pop up. I knew what he was looking for; I hadn’t seen the colourless sentinel myself since the previous afternoon. “Why don’t you ask Morus?” I asked when Tudor glanced up again, as if electrified by the sound of steps above us. “What?” “Morus. Your mentor. He will know what it means if one of the sentinels isn’t wearing any colours, and he’ll...” “Stop that! Stop behaving as if you knew what was going on inside my head!” I really hadn’t seen that violent reaction coming and stepped back, as Tudor noted with some satisfaction. Aureljo was at my side at once.

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

“Watch how you say things, OK? Ria was being friendly and you had no right to shout at her.” More steps above us. Tudor’s eyes were still watching me, and I could almost feel how difficult it was for him not to glance upwards. “Why don’t you just ask him?” I repeated. Tudor shook his head. He went back to concentrating on the tomato plant that he was in process of investigating. Something about his stance gave me to understand that he did not want to ask because he already knew the answer.

The sentinels had already done their rounds along the catwalks inside the dome when a girl pushed through the rows of plant and headed straight for me. She was younger than us, fifteen, sixteen at most, and I knew her by sight from one of the communal kitchens in the outer quarters. “Ria,” she called, beaming shyly at Aureljo and Tudor, before grabbing my arm. “They need you in the reception station. There are three this time, two of them still rather small. Terissa wants you to come along.” I wiped my earthy hands on a linen cloth and followed the girl, her pigtail swinging backwards and forwards as she ran. Red hair; as rare as sunshine.

The reception station was located in Dome 2d, not far from the sentinels‘ quarters. They were the ones who found the tiny bundles when they were on patrol, and who tucked them inside their thick coats to keep them warm against their bodies, and who brought them inside the spheres.

One of the paediatric nurses was holding the door for me; she smiled and said something I didn’t understand because of all the noise in the room behind her. “There are 3 of them,” she repeated when I asked. “Two boys and a girl.”

I went into the room where I can be alone with the little ones and get to know them. I like coming here, everything reminds me of my own childhood; old armchairs, carpets, pictures of green plants under a bright sun on the walls. There was a similar picture in the New Colonia Sphere where I had grown up. It used to hang on the wall opposite my bed and showed a great space filled with flowers that were very high and very yellow. Sunflowers, was what Baja

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

called them and I thought that was a lovely name, though of course it had just been made up.

The nurse brought me the howling child first; it twisted about when she laid it in my arms. Dark curls clinging to the forehead, and I could see little teeth in the gaping mouth. A bright red face and little fists that were thrashing about, perilously close to my nose. A girl. Five months old. Maybe six. Skinny. “Has she had anything to drink?” I asked the nurse, who was already halfway through the door. “Yes, an entire unit. She even stopped yelling for a moment to do so.” It’s difficult to read babies. They don’t hide anything, nothing at all. But then, it is generally the mistakes, the tiny irregularities in people’s disguises that reveal the most. The girl in my arms kept on screaming while I talked to her, massaged her tummy, and walked about the room with her. Her skin was warm and she’s wasn’t contorted, she wasn’t screaming from pain. Regardless of what I did, she kept on screaming because I was the wrong person. The child was yelling for her mother and would go on screaming until she fell asleep from exhaustion. I rocked her, sang and kissed her red, distorted face. “She gave you away so that you could be alright. Warm, safe and cared for. We will look after you, don’t worry about that.” I talked to the little one as if she could understand me, rocked her, and told her about the play domes in the New Colonia Sphere, where the children are allowed to climb about, build caves and paint walls. At some point or other, she stopped screaming and looked at me. “You will never be alone,” I told her. “Never again will you lie in the snow and freeze, and hear the wolves howling. You are one of us, now.” She closed her eyes, and her fists unclenched. It was surely not my voice that had done that, but exhaustion. Nevertheless...

By the time Terissa came in and glanced enquiringly at me, as she always did, I had reached a decision.

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

“Send her to Baja, she will do well there.” I pressed the sleeping girl into her arms and gently smoothed some unruly locks away from her forehead. Baja would envelop her with her warmth, as she had done with all of us vitros and the abandoned ones, without differentiating between us in any way. I had heard that other foster mothers would favour vitros, as if artificially engendered life were more precious. Baja was the best thing that could happen to the little one. It was much easier with the boys. One of them spent the entire time squeaking with pleasure and yanking great handfuls of my hair out, and the other cuddled up to me and was asleep within minutes. “The first one may well flourish in the Bozen Sphere,” I instructed Terissa, when she stuck her head through the doorway again. “The second should possibly go to Spessart 3 or New Constance, where the peaceful atmosphere will suit him, I think.” I laid the sleeping child carefully in her arms; it stirred briefly but didn’t wake. “Thanks,” Terissa whispered and carried the boy away.

I stayed put for a moment, breathing in the smell of babies and wondering why I wasn’t feeling more pleased with myself. I had allocated the three little ones to the best of my knowledge, as I had often done before. The first time had been when I was twelve. Until now, I had almost always made the right decision, and only two of the children who had passed through my hands had needed to be re-settled later on. I couldn’t get the screaming girl out of my head, her furious despair, her loneliness. All you need is a bit of rest, I told myself. You’ve done what you could for her. She will be warm, and she won’t starve, and if she is gifted, she will have the same opportunities as a vitro. They select the best of the children that the Alliance of the Spheres take on and raise. Furthermore, I tried to reassure myself, you’ve sent her to Baja, who will love her and cherish her, and bring her on at the same time. Just as she did with you. The thought gave me a pang, as well. A second later, I realised that it was a sense of longing. Longing for the sphere of my childhood, for the ways the kitchen, the lesson room and the fresh bed linen all smelt, for Baja. I’d have given anything to swop places with that little six month-old baby girl.

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

Outside the reception centre, I found Tomma sitting on the low wall that separated the pavement from the railway for the freight trucks. She seemed to waiting for me. “They’ve given me the day off,” she explained. As I walked up to her, I noticed her swollen eyelids and the red veins in the whites of her eyes. She must have been crying; her nose was still runny. “What’s happened?” “Nothing, I.... I must have caught a cold last time we went outside,” she murmured and coughed a bit, as if to prove it. I sat down beside her and put an arm round her shoulders; she immediately started trembling. “After you went away, we went on working. Everything was going wonderfully well, the results of the analyses were so promising, and the cabbage was better than ever before.” If that’s what Tomma said, then one could rely on it totally. She can read plants the way I read people. “But then...” she looked down. “Then I thought I could see Lu. On the left next to the tomato racks. I was about to run over to her, when she turned round and... It was just a girl who looked like her from behind. I... I started crying. Just like that. After that, I couldn’t stop.” A tear dripped onto her trousers, staining a patch of the light green material dark green.

Green was what we all wore, in memory of the fertile land that was no longer there. I hugged her more tightly. “What do you think they’ve done with her?” The tears kept on flowing but she spoke clearly. “I don’t know.” “Why isn’t anyone telling us anything? If only we knew which clan had killed her, at least.” That would give us something to go by, but maybe it was better not to know. It might help us sleep better.

When I was little, the older children would tell us stories at night-time, to give us nightmares - about the clans and tribes. About the Night Runners who fill old pipes with the teeth of their dead enemies, to make rattles that they use for their war rituals. About the White Grabbers who hide in snow holes and

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

drag lost travellers into them to smother them. About the Blackthorn Clan that drive their naked children through thorny hedges and only raise the ones that survive. Nothing was ever said about the Rippers – the name alone was enough to make us all start sobbing.

The next day, we would run to our foster parents to complain, and they would comfort us, but they never said that the stories were nonsense, not once. Not even Baja. She would tell the older ones off, but she never wasted a word on the stories. “They didn’t open the coffins,” Tomma whispered, “so that we wouldn’t be able to see that their ears and teeth were missing. Or that they had been.... squashed.” Her fingers were still a bit earthy and she rubbed her face to wipe the tears away, leaving dirty marks. “There’s a clan in the east that uses heavy rocks... they squash people with rocks, as if they were cockroaches.” “Nonsense,” I retorted energetically. If it had been our expedition that they’d attacked, there wouldn’t have been one empty coffin on the dais, but three. But I kept that thought to myself. I tried to calm her by saying, “I am sure they all died quickly, or the Sentinels would have been able to intervene. The attack must have been very sudden, and over in a few seconds.” Tomma believed me, because she wanted to believe me. She sniffed in a reassured sort of way, wiping some more earth over her face. “You’re right.” She pushed herself off the wall in one go, paused a moment, and then turned to face me. “I won’t ever leave our Sphere, ever, so long as there are still Prims running about out there. They should all go away, all of them.”

5 I did not go back to the cultivation houses but went straight to my quarters, where I lay, stretched out on my bed with my eyes closed. The last few weeks had been hard and we were all stressed, which was surely the reason why Tomma had spoken so harshly. We would gladly have already made the decisions that lay before us. It wasn’t long until the end of our studies, until

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

we had to leave the academy and select a career from the possible options that lay before us. The smaller the number, the more difficult it was to choose, Zilla always said. I had been apart from her for far too long, and could certainly have done with her psychological support just now. 7 is a pretty small number.

I was hungry too. That was a bore, but because I wanted to make up for yesterday’s non-compliance, I got up and held my salvator under the scanner, and waited for the buzzer to show it had read all the important data and was sending them to the kitchen. Only then did I settle on my bed again.

Outside, along the wall, the sentinels were doing the rounds. Ever since childhood, I had found it reassuring to watch them and I could feel my eyelids growing heavy. I only realised I had fallen asleep when i was woken by my door bell, which was ringing shrilly. I took the tray from the kitchen help, said a few words, and put the food on the table. A couple of history books were lying on it that needed to go back to the library the next day. Precious old books, made of real paper. The second world war 1939–1945. The conflict in the Middle East. The Water Wars 2036–2040. The attacks on the Spheres 2092. “If we want to rule, we need to be aware of the dangers that must be confronted,” Aureljo often said. He knew everything about the wars, why they had started, who had benefited and who had been particularly hard hit. Aureljo called it governing, Tutor called it ruling, and he wasn’t remotely affected by the way rulers throughout history had often lost their heads. I found some vegetable stew in my food container, a bit of chicken and a big knob of corn cob. No cake – the last transport had been bringing flour when it had been plundered by the Prims. I ate the lot and sent the empty containers back. Now I was free. At last. I pushed the history books away and uploaded a novel onto my terminal, one of the old ones. I love stories of animals, of free-standing houses, and meadows, all bathed in sunny hues. One day, it will be like that again. I’d heard that hundreds of kilometres to the south, the snow had started melting again and that the ground was clear for months at a time, a little more every summer.

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

I had scarcely read five pages, when the message board rang. The duty sentinel spoke: “Visitor,” At this time? “Who is it?” “Just me,” said a different, warmer voice - Aureljo. “You can let him in.” I heard Aureljo run up the stairs and waited for him in the doorway. I hugged him and drew him into my room. “I thought you were going to come back,” he said breathlessly. “I was worried.” I stroked his face, avoiding the scars along his hairline, and missing the birthmark beside his eye. “I had to stay longer in the reception station, and wanted to be alone.” He hugged me and pulled me down onto the sofa. “Tell me about the children.”

He was really interested, always. Not just because it was me that was involved, either. Aureljo had the knack of paying attention to everyone, which was why he generally had such a magnetic effect on people. It was no trouble for him; it was just his nature. I did not know anyone who didn’t enjoy being near him, and I was always asking myself why he loved me, of all people. I put my head on his shoulder and replied, “There were three of them. Two boys, who will get on marvellously. Happy and contented. The girl, though, will need a bit of time. I have sent her to New Colonia.” “That was surely the right thing to do.” Aureljo was fiddling with my hair. “Were they well fed?” “Too thin, all three of them.” His chest heaved, and he sighed. “D’you know what, Ria? I can hardly wait to finish with the academy. We will be given key posts and will be able to make the world a better place.” When my head was lying on his shoulder, as then, I could listen to his words and feel them too. If I closed my eyes, I could even believe them. We would solve all the problems: food, warmth, security. No more undernourished children, to be exposed in the snow. No more attacks on students, looking for new sources of food. Aureljo believes in all that, and I often think that he was

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

made Number 1 because he can convey this faith to others. Not so much because anyone thought he was really capable of achieving these lofty aims. “Shall I stay here tonight?” he murmured. I thought a moment then shook my head. “I’m not good company right now. There’s so much going on inside my head that I need to sort out.” The fact that I wanted to be alone, with the night outside the dome, the silently falling snowflakes and the shadows of the sentinels on their rounds, I kept to myself.

Later on, after Aureljo had left, I regretted my decision. The novel, for all its sunshine and the problems of a long-vanished world, had proved unexpectedly depressing. I downloaded another book, a detective novel, which was about a series of murders in the New Berlin 1 Sphere, but the narrative was flat and the plot predictable. So I saved energy by switching off my bedside light and trying to sleep.

The next day, we were in the middle of a physical training session when I suddenly remembered that my books were due back. If I failed to return them within half an hour, I would lose the privilege of taking old editions to my quarters. What’s more, I would have to spend a weekend on duty service. Sorting out returned books, dusting bookshelves and checking reader terminals for unauthorised data. And I’d have to wear a bright orangecoloured duty uniform, much to the amusement of the younger students.

I overtook Tomma, who was in front of me in the circuit, and removed the weights from my wrists and ankles, then sprinted – this was suddenly much easier – along the shortest route through domes 5 and 7 to my quarters. If I hurried, I wouldn’t just get my books back in time, but I would also be on time for lunch in the Canteen. My salvator would have no grounds for posting a warning, and everyone would be happy.

Old books were issued inside a metal case that they had to be kept in and carried about in. I shoved the heavy, ungainly box under my left arm, although its sharp edges were digging into my armpit. If I could choose between valuable printed paper and downloading a whole lot of data to my

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

terminal, I would generally opt for the book, although it’s less convenient. Especially when history books are involved. The pages convey a sense that their readers have themselves experienced everything that is written down inside them. Long before me, other people have gazed at the same pages, and sometimes I feel that I would like to hear their thoughts.

Lu had also read the book about the Water Wars, about two months ago, and had told me about it, shaking her head as she spoke. We won‘t let things get to that stage again, so long as the Alliance of the Spheres exists, she told me. Now, holding the faded book cover, which her hands had also touched, was like being in touch with her.

I was moving even faster than I thought and was in good time. Past the Medcenter, which took over the entire dome 7, up the steps two at a time, and I reached the returns desk five minutes before the books were due. One of the younger students took in the book and placed them on the reader, and the green button lit up four times. “Just in time,” she commented. “Did you want to borrow something else?” No, not today. I shook my head and set off towards the reading rooms. The exit at the back was closer to the academy. “Not that way,” the duty officer told me. “It’s closed; the small reading room and the stacks are being renovated.” I turned round with a sigh. The way from here, back to the main entrance, meant a huge detour. Once I’d rounded the nearest corner, the student on duty couldn’t see me anymore. It would only be a tiny infringement of the rules. I wasn’t going to touch anything and make it dirty.

The passage leading to one of the staircases at the back was cold; it felt abandoned. Ladders were leaning against the walls and there were piles of empty containers that had once held light green paint. A large plastic tub full of rubbish was standing near the staircase that I was heading for. I put my foot on the first step and then stopped in mid-movement. Behind me, I heard a voice speaking low but very clearly. And very angrily. »… not the right place for a meeting!“

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

I spun round, but there was no one. The voice must have been coming from one of the newly-renovated rooms, and I thought I knew who it belonged to. That way of spitting out the hard consonants was surely Gorgias. “For our purposes it is the best place we can think of.” That voice did not belong to any of my mentors, I was sure about that. It sounded restrained, almost a whisper, and impatient. I tried to make out which of the doors the two men were behind – I’d never heard Gorgias talking like that. A feverish, unwilling manner, as if he were under pressure. His disquiet affected me. Could the academy be experiencing problems? Was the government of the Alliance of the Spheres unhappy with our results? I put my foot down carefully, grateful that I was still wearing running shoes. My steps had been silent. Then a third voice broke in: that one was definitely Morus... “Let’s get to the point,” he was saying.

They must be in the room behind the door that had been painted white. It was closed, but the tongue wasn’t properly engaged and every word that was spoken could be heard through the slit. Something was wrong. A moment later I knew what it was. Gorgias’s personal sentinels were not there. Normally, they stood like watch towers in front of every room in which he was. To emphasise his importance, Tudor said. “We are dealing with a conspiracy,” that was the unknown speaker’s rasping voice, again. “The president is taking a very serious view of the matter. He wants it to be resolved quickly.” “As I have already said, that’s nonsense!” Gorgias was shouting. “In my academy there is no conspiracy. The elite from the entire Central European Alliance of the Spheres is studying here. The president himself attended this college!”

That word, conspiracy, immediately gripped me. A conspiracy! Right then, everything in me wanted to agree with Gorgias – nobody here would turn against the Alliance of the Spheres. On the contrary, we were all feverishly striving for the day when we could finally apply the things we had learnt in the academy. We wanted to make the inhabitable world bigger, better, stronger. We didn’t want to destroy it. On the other hand... I didn’t know every individual

Condemned (Vol. 1) by Ursula Poznanski

here. I wouldn’t have been able to put my hand on my heart about the bulk of the population. “That would be a scandal,” Morus was muttering. “Inconceivable. You must be mistaken...” […]