at Georgie.
‘Didn’t hurt a bit,’ he said.
Georgie ignored him and stepped across to eyeball James.
‘So, new boy,’ she said, as she picked up the bloody paddle and waved it in James’ face. ‘That was a taste of what you can expect if you tempt devils into the Ark. I will demand absolute obedience from now on. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, Miss,’ James said, hardly able to conceal his sense of outrage.
A further glance at Rat’s bloody legs gave James an urge to pick up the paddle and give Georgie a taste of her own medicine. He had the strength, but he’d known there was a risk of physical punishment when he’d signed up for the mission and he wasn’t going to blow six weeks of work in one crazy outburst.
‘Riiiiight,’ Georgie said, twisting her face into an evil smirk. ‘Let’s have the pair of you off to the sweatbox.’
*
James guessed that something called a sweatbox wasn’t going to be an air-conditioned space filled with fluffy cushions, and he was spot on. Georgie frogmarched the two boys to a metal shed near the Ark’s concrete perimeter. The inside was three paces across, with a sand floor and two buckets. The one containing drinking water had a plastic beaker bobbing in it, while the other served as an emergency toilet.
James and Rat reluctantly stepped inside. There was no window, but the brilliant sunlight escaping through gaps in the metal was enough to see by.
‘Contemplate your sins,’ Georgie said severely.
The metal door clattered shut before it was secured with two sliding bolts. James panicked as the searingly hot air reached into his lungs.
Rat saw James was struggling and spoke firmly. ‘Calm down.’
‘I can’t breathe.’
‘Take little breaths until your lungs adjust to the heat,’ Rat said, as he rubbed James’ shoulder to reassure him. ‘You’ll be OK. Just don’t get too close to the metal: it’ll fry your skin.’
While James steadily took deeper breaths, Rat used his shoe to turn over the baking sand so that part of the floor was cool enough to sit on.
‘How long are we in here for?’ James asked.
‘Until school ends at one.’
‘That’s five hours,’ James gasped.
James copied Rat, turning over the baking dirt, before lying on his side so that his throbbing bum didn’t touch the floor. He remembered the tortures he’d been through in basic training and began thinking of the slogans they chanted:
This is tough, but cherubs are tougher. This is tough but cherubs are tougher.
He smiled at the irony, as he realised that this was part of CHERUB’s own brand of thought control. But the similarities between the tough regime on CHERUB campus and life inside the Survivors’ Ark were only skin deep: everyone who joined CHERUB knew what they were signing up for and if you wanted to leave it was as simple as asking.
Within a few minutes, James had got his breathing back to normal and he’d rehydrated himself from the morning run with three beakers of water.
‘You know,’ Rat said, speaking slowly because of the heat, ‘this is all my fault. I reckon I owe you a favour. Anything you like.’
James smirked. ‘What exactly does a kid with a sore butt and attitude problems have to offer me?’
‘More than you think,’ Rat said indignantly. ‘Being one of Regan’s kids counts for quite a bit and feeding gossip into the right ears can earn you plenty of favours around here.’
James tried thinking of something that would be good for the mission, without making his goals seem obvious.
‘OK, Mr Big Shot,’ James said. ‘I take it we get work assignments here, the same as in Brisbane?’
‘Sure, school lasts until one, then we work until dinner.’
‘Could you fix me and my little sister up with something cushy? Like, a nice desk job, instead of cleaning toilets, or laundry.’
‘No sweat,’ Rat said, surprising James with his air of confidence. ‘I’ll have a word with my stepmum, Susie. That’s my dad’s fourth wife. She’s the second most powerful person in the Ark after The Spider.’
‘What about your mum?’ James asked.
Rat made a gesture like there was a noose around his neck, followed by a gagging sound. ‘My mum couldn’t handle all the other women my dad was carrying on with. She ended up going ga-ga and hanging herself.’
‘Christ,’ James gasped. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Not as sorry as me,’ Rat said. ‘You’ve got a family outside of this nut house. If you’re enough of a pain in the arse, they’ll kick you out to go and live with your dad or