As Yet Unknown (#Wattys2016)

Chapter 2

The night folded back to reveal the dawn, bringing tendrils of rich, rare incense to tease me awake, signalling the call to morning devotions. I answered silently, my mind thrumming as if I still wore the domes, feeling the air; heavy, ominous, prescient. I slid off my bed, after the squalor of the night I appreciated the handsome, gunmetal bed block anew, and pressed a recess in the corner. A thin, solid sheet slid across its surface to enclose the thick mattress and soft sheets in an airtight tomb.

I pressed another recess lower on the block and a drawer slid out. I can't quite say what came over me. I sank my fingers deep into the kimono, kneading it, before I wrapped it around my body, using it to hug my secret tight. I'd hidden the domes under it, in a protective, rubberised sheath; right next to a small backpack manufactured from the same material, designed to mould tightly to my back. I couldn't wait to check the footage again, to freeze frames and edit it to perfection but first, duty and discipline. A Brinder would never dream of foregoing the morning prayer ritual - no matter how inclement the weather, or how testing the night's shroud.

My mother passed me on the threshold of the shrine and we exchanged respectful bows before going our respective ways. It had been many years since I had pressed my nose to hers, rested my brow on her bosom, silently crying at the harshness of childhood. I sank to my knees on an embroidered cushion, well aware that my silhouette was framed, visible to all Citizens going about their duties in the streets below, praying at similar, lower shrines. The Abbah taught us that upper castes must set the example so I lit a tiny cone of incense, breathed in the vapours, and offered myself to the smiling female Buddha in the hope that my plan would bear fruition.

***

The Buddha accepted. Halfway through formal breakfast a murmured message arrived, a representative from the Academy was here. I must admit I forgot myself, my delicate cup hovered halfway between the saucer and my pursed lip. My father tactfully ignored my slight and I almost blushed. I was old enough and highly ranked enough to know better. Still, I was torn. I completed the cup's journey, kissed its rim, drained its contents. Custom dictated that it would be rude for me to leave the meal to find out what they wanted. But it was equally rude for them to arrive during a meal – which meant that this must be important. Had my proposal been approved? I wouldn't even consider the alternative. I forced myself to pause.

"Father." I made sure my tone was polite, hesitant. "A representative from the Academy is here to see me. May we invite them to join us for breakfast?"

"Naturally." I loved my father's rich baritone and the effect it had on people. Not for the first time, I wondered if this was part of the reason for his extraordinary political power. Sukh Brinder had groomed me for acceptance into the upper Norian circles since birth, a privilege I was grateful for. It meant my bearing and character had fortified that lucky birth. I knew he hoped to see his only child wearing the title of Sukh, as he and his mother had before him.

I was so sprung I hardly noticed the appraising look Rachael gave me when I nodded to her; show the representative in. I docked the cup gently in the saucer so it couldn't betray my nerves, glad for my foresight when the prized Abbah Nori himself, exemplary example of Norian society, trotted vigorously into the light, airy chamber. He was elderly, yet spry with a long, plaited beard and shaved head that bore witness to his accolades and achievements. Each plait represented a field of knowledge he was expert in. Gold beads trimmed the end of each plait according to the level he had reached in each field, punctuating a mantra of excellence.

"Abbah Nori." My father rose from his seat and bowed low. I followed suit. The Abbah blessed us both. I was stunned that this pillar of society, able to achieve samedhi at a moment's notice...