Chapter Five

He made the decision two days later. The first of those days he'd spent at the Coalition, filing hard-copies of documents in small, rarely used box room; just one morning had been spent as SchoolTM, and the afternoon wiled away in bed with an array of migraine capsules by his side.
Both days had been spent carefully avoiding Ember.

Once Jule had made his choice, he tried not to think too much about the consequences. Yet, as he dropped his upcar into a once-familiar neighbourhood his stomach jolted – not just from the sudden free-fall, but with the worry of what he could possibly say to Violet.

As he locked up his Dodge, Jule noticed how much shabbier the small street appeared, compared to the brand new, ultra-modern neighbourhoods springing up where old power stations and forests had stood. The doors along the ground-level street were coating with flaking paint, and the road itself was made of a crumbly material that had chipped away to create potholes – it was a road made for vehicles with wheels, not floating transport. A few upcars – models that had been popular three or four years ago – were parked in grey driveways.

At least Violet's house had a fingerprints scanner installed. Jule remembered the day it had arrived. They'd both raced to store their prints in its memory. He wondered if the device would still recognise his fingertips…

He touched his thumb to the tiny box nailed to the doorframe.

A shrill alarm sounded from somewhere deep within the house.

The door opened.

"Sorry, Jule. Six month fingerprint expiry. Maximum security. Dad branched out a bit since you were last here." She beckoned him inside. "Why he couldn't have spent the extra money on a decent car, he won't say."

Jule had expected a less comfortable greeting. Relieved, he laughed. "How is he, your dad?"

No, Jule, he cursed himself, get to the point.

"No less unhinged than usual," Violet said as she led Jule into the kitchen. "He's in his element, you could say. Especially since my disassociation with-"

"The Coalition. I hope that's why I'm here."

Violet paused at her visitor's briskness. "Well, obviously, but-"

"-Because it feels really strange being back here with you, Vi, and there are-"

"Can we communicate by feed from now on, please. I don't want my dad to know you're here.

"Violet? Have you heard anything I've just-"

Use the feed.

Jule hastily switched to the feed, ignoring the full cache awaiting his perusal.

So tell me why I'm here.

You're here so I can tell you something.

Something you couldn't tell me from a distance? Jule hoped she noticed the doubt in his mind.

It's something I need your opinion on…your true opinion. Not just one you'd make up to get me to leave you alone. I need to be able to see your face to know what you really think.

Amazing, Jule thought, how much she'd learned about him in eight months of knowing each other.

Fair enough. What are you telling me?

Without speaking, Violet moved hastily to a cupboard, and grasped its handle.

You don't want a snack or something first, do you?

"Violet!" Jule cried, aloud and exasperatedly. "Tell me your 'Coalition business' or I'll have to leave."

She closed the cupboard and returned to Jule, sitting down on a tall stool. She beckoned Jule towards a second.

Okay. But I'm serious about my dad. If he hears anything about the Coalition he'll snap.

I don't doubt that.

So. Feed-chat only.

Agreed. And the news is…?

I want to get involved with the Coalition again.

Of all the things Jule had suspected, this was low on the list. But you just said-

If the Coalition say yes, I don't give a damn about my dad.

It'll be a no, Violet.

Almost definitely. But you can still try. She said it shortly, indifferently.

I can't! You know the trouble I'll be in if they know I've contacted a disassociate! Sometimes, you can be-

Are you still close to Marton?

Yes-

Ask him. He understood the two of us.

Jule shook his head. Marton couldn't break the rules for you – or me.

I bet he would. For you, at least. Will you even just think about it?

No.

Take as long as you want.

He didn't answer. He hoped she assumed he meant 'no'. yet, he admitted to himself, he wasn't sure he could give a negative answer.

I'm only asking you to think about it, Violet persisted.

Okay! He felt resigned. But don't contact me again. I'll contact you. When I'm ready.

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