20 The Killjoy

20 The Killjoy 'Yes! A ceremonial refilling of the Rainbow Lake is a BRILLIANT idea,' said Mrs M to her husband. They were among a group of giddy Resistance operatives standing beneath the portal doors that Mr White had drawn on the walls of the control room. And every single one of us should be there to watch. This has been a long time coming and so many good and brave people have played their part. They all deserve to be included in the celebrations.

'Right. Decision made,' said a smiling Mr M. 'We'll do it tomorrow morning. This city has lost enough time to Mr White's regime, so let's not waste any more. Josephine, can you please work out the best way of getting the rainbow water that's up here back down to the lake? We also need to get the cleaning channels fully operational again. Josephine nodded. While the Markmakers, Gary, Tracey, Leo, Nerys, 67, Woodhouse and Josephine continued to discuss the logistics of this huge and very exciting celebration, Little-Bit sat on Jonathan Higginbottom's back, both of them giggling and catching up on lost time. Doodle, the scribble-of-a-dog keen to join in the fun, kept trying to run up the alligator's tail, only to be playfully flicked off before he could reach the little girl. Peanut, meanwhile, was in the corner by herself,

looking at all the priceless paintings that Mr White had stolen. Rockwell, spotting that she was on her own, decided that this might be a good time to have an important chat with his friend. He sidled up to her. ' Er, could I have a quick word?' he asked, standing with Peanut in front of the Mona Lisa. ' What's up?' she asked. Are you thinking about how best to return these paintings to the various galleries too? I reckon we do it one at a time using White's portals, probably under cover of darkness. Best if the wider world doesn't know about Chroma. This city really should remain as secret as possible.' 'Erm, it's not that, actually,' said Rockwell as he took a deep breath. He wondered why he was so nervous about saying what he was about to say. 'I wanted to talk to you again about 67. Earlier, I... well... I saw their eyes flash red. It was weird. Look, I know you don't want to hear this, but I'm still worried that all is not quite as it seems with them and I had to tell you. I can't put my finger on what it is exactly, but my instincts are telling me that something's not right. I just don't think they're totally on our side. I really think we should confront them about it, even if it's just to prove me wrong. And if it turns that I am wrong, then I will apologise and won't say anything about it ever again. I promise.' Peanut stared at Rockwell for a long moment before speaking. 'Seriously, Rockwell?' she said with more than just

annoyance in her voice. 'You choose this moment to bring that up again!? We've just captured Mr White, we're planning to refill the lake and celebrate with the best party we've ever been to, and all you can think about is how 67 insulted you? Why do you have to be such a killjoy? Honestly, I don't know what to say.' 'No, no, no. It's nothing to do with 67 insulting me,' he replied. 'Look, I know that sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my brain, but this time I know that I am right. I can't explain how, but I just do. I really think you need to listen to me, Peanut. I've got this terrible feeling that if we don't do something about 67 now, we're going to regret it. 'I'll tell you what I am beginning to regret,' said Peanut, her voice getting louder. 'I'm beginning to regret showing you Pencil Number One in the first place! You didn't believe me when I first told you about it, and despite everything we've been through, nothing's really changed, has it? You're still a sceptic. Why can't you just accept that sometimes people, and robots, might just decide to do the right thing? And so what if 67 insulted your intelligence? To be honest, at this moment in time I'm starting to think that they might have had a point!' 'Now you're just being mean,' said Rockwell, unable to disguise the hurt in his voice. 'I might not know about art and stuff like you, but I still have feelings.' 'Ah,' said Peanut, smirking. 'Finally, we get to the bottom

of it. You're still going on about the whole art versus science thing, aren't you? I thought we'd gotten past this. I mean, for goodness' sake, Rockwell! We are literally standing right next to a painting by Leonardo da Vinci, a guy who embodied the idea that art and science can co- exist! He proved, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that they work best when they work together. That they're dependent on each other! There is no competition to see which is best!' 'I'M NOT SAYING THERE IS, PEANUT!' yelled Rockwell, surprising himself. 'I AM JUST TRYING TO TELL YOU THAT I'M WORRIED ABOUT SOMETHING AND YOU ARE NOT LISTENING TO ME! THAT IS WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE! The silence that followed was the most silent silence ever. Everyone in the room had stopped what they were doing and were now looking at the two friends. They were all shocked to hear Rockwell shouting so loudly, no one more so than Peanut.

'Er, guys!' said Little-Bit, rushing over to them. 'What's going on? Why are you fighting?' 'ASK HIM!' said Peanut. 'ASKHER!' said Rockwell. ' Well, whatever's happened, I think you should both just make up. That's what Miss Gibeon tells Marley and me to do when we've had an argument at school. And today is not a day for arguments,' said the little girl, in a voice that belied her age. 'We have got lots to celebrate.' 'My point exactly!' said Peanut, folding her arms. 'I'm just not sure Rockwell is capable of having fun at the moment.' She looked at him pointedly. 'Listen, I'm sorry for shouting,' he said. 'Maybe you're right, Peanut. Maybe I'm just not in the mood for a party.' He turned his face to the wall, trying to hide the tears pricking his eyes, Actually, I, er, don't feel that great. So, I think I might just... head home. Mum is probably wondering where I am anyway.' 'I think that's a very good idea,' said Peanut. ' No one wants a killjoy moping about the place, sucking the fun from the celebration. I'll draw you a door, shall I? And then we can both forget that any of this ever happened.'