The Power(22)

As for Margot: all she needs to know is that she can keep it under control. They’re bringing in testing at work.

‘Come on in, Mayor Cleary. Sit down.’

The room is small, and there is only one tiny window far up near the ceiling, letting in a thin strip of grey light. When the nurse visits for the annual flu shot, this is the room she uses, or if someone’s doing the staff review. There’s a table, and three chairs. Behind the table is a woman wearing a bright blue security tag pinned to her lapel. On top of the table is a piece of machinery: it looks like it might be a microscope or a blood-testing apparatus; there are two needles and a focusing window and lenses.

The woman says, ‘We want you to know, Madam Mayor, that everyone in the building is being tested. You haven’t been singled out.’

‘Even the men?’ Margot raises an eyebrow.

‘Well, no, not the men.’

Margot thinks about that.

‘OK. And it’s … what exactly?’

The woman gives a faint smile: ‘Madam Mayor, you signed the papers. You know what this is.’

She feels her throat constrict. She puts one hand on her hip. ‘No, actually, I want you to tell me what it is. For the record.’

The woman wearing the security tag says, ‘It’s state-wide mandatory testing for the presence of a skein, or the electrostatic power.’ She starts to read from a card sitting next to the machine. ‘Please be advised that following a state-wide order from the Governor Daniel Dandon, your continued eligibility for your government position is dependent on your agreement to be tested. A positive test result need not necessarily have any bearing on your future employment. It is possible for a woman to test positive without knowing that she has the capacity to use the electrostatic power. Counselling is available if the results of this test are distressing to you, or to help you consider your options if your current position is no longer suitable.’

‘What does that mean,’ says Margot, ‘no longer suitable? What does it mean?’

The woman purses her lips: ‘Certain positions involving contact with children and the public have been mandated as unsuitable by the Governor’s office.’

It’s like Margot can see Daniel Dandon, the Governor of this great state, standing behind the woman’s chair, laughing.

‘Children and the public? What does that leave me?’

The woman smiles. ‘If you haven’t experienced the power yet, it’s all going to be fine. Nothing to worry about, on with your day.’

‘It’s not fine for everyone.’

The woman flicks the switch on the machine. It starts up a gentle hum.

‘I’m ready to begin, Madam Mayor.’

‘What happens if I say no?’

She sighs. ‘If you say no, I’ll have to record it, and the Governor will inform someone in the State Department.’

Margot sits down. She thinks, They won’t be able to tell I’ve used it. No one knows. I haven’t been lying. She thinks, Shit. She swallows.

‘Fine,’ she says, ‘I’d like it recorded that I’m making a formal protest about being forced to undergo invasive testing.’

‘OK,’ says the woman. ‘I’ll get that written down.’

And behind her faint smirk, Margot can see Daniel’s face again, laughing. She puts her arm out for the electrodes, thinking that, at least, at least after this is done, even after she’s out of a job and there go her political ambitions, at least then she won’t have to look at his stupid face any more.

They apply the sticky electrode pads to her wrists, her shoulders, her collarbone. They’re looking for electrical activity, the technician explains in a low, droning voice. ‘You should be perfectly comfortable, ma’am. At worst, you’ll experience a slight stinging sensation.’

At worst, I’ll experience the end of my career, Margot thinks, but says nothing.

It’s all very simple. They’re going to trigger her autonomic nervous function with a series of low-level electrical impulses. It works on the girl babies in routine tests now being run in hospitals, even though the answer is always the same, because all the girl babies have it now, every single one. Give them an almost imperceptible shock across the skein; the skein will respond automatically with a jolt. Margot can feel her skein is ready, anyway – it’s the nerves, the adrenaline.

Remember to look surprised, she says to herself, remember to look afraid and ashamed and taken aback by this brand-new thing.

The machine makes a low, buzzing hum as it starts. Margot is familiar with the schematics. It will begin by giving an entirely imperceptible shock, too low for the senses to register. The skeins of those little baby girls almost always respond at this level, or the next one. The machine has ten settings. The electrical stimulus will increase, level by level. At a certain point, Margot’s own aged and unpractised skein will respond, like calling to like. And then they will know. She breathes in, she breathes out. She waits.

At the start, she cannot feel it at all. There is simply the sensation of pressure building. Across her chest, down her spine. She does not feel the first level, or the second level, or the third, as the machine clicks smoothly through its cycle. The dial moves on. Margot feels that it would be pleasant, now, to discharge herself. It is like the feeling, on waking, that one might like to open one’s eyes. She resists. It is not difficult.