Noughts and Crosses, Malorie Blackman [types of ebook readers .txt] 📗

couldn’t stand it any longer. My hand crept up.

‘Ah! I wondered if we were going to hear from you again.’ Mr Jason directed more of a smirk than a smile in my direction. ‘So what’s the answer then, Callum?’

‘They were all Crosses,’ I replied.

Mr Jason’s smirk grew so wide I’m surprised he didn’t swallow his ears. ‘Correct! Well done!’ He started moving round the class. My face burned pink then scarlet as every eye in the class turned on me.

‘Throughout history, from the time our ancestors in Cafrique sailed to other lands and acquired knowledge of gunpowder, writing, weapon-making, the arts and so on, we have been the dominant race on Earth. We have been the explorers, the ones to move entire backward civilizations onwards . . .’

I couldn’t let him get away with that. My hand shot up again.

‘Yes, Callum?’

‘Sir, I read somewhere that noughts have made a significant contribution to the way we live today too . . .’

‘Oh yes? Like how?’ Mr Jason folded his arms across his chest as he waited for my answer.

‘Well, for example, Matthew Henson was joint first to the North Pole. Robert E. Peary was with him.’

‘Robert who?’

‘Robert Peary. He was co-discoverer of the geographic North Pole.’

‘How come I’ve never heard of him then?’ Mr Jason challenged.

‘Because all the history books are written by Crosses and you never write about anyone else except your own. Noughts have done lots of significant things, but I bet no-one in this class knows . . .’

‘That’s quite enough.’ Mr Jason cut me off in mid-tirade.

‘But, sir . . .’

‘How dare you spread these pathetic lies about nought scientists and inventors?’ Mr Jason’s hands were clenched at his side now and he glared at me furiously.

‘They’re not lies,’ I protested.

‘Who’s been filling your head with all this nonsense?’

‘It’s not nonsense. My dad told me.’

‘And where did your dad get it from?’

‘I . . . I . . .’ My voice trailed away.

‘Exactly!’ said Mr Jason. ‘Now go and stand outside the headmaster’s room. And don’t come back into this room until you’ve got all that nonsense out of your head and you’re ready to accept my teaching.’

I grabbed my bag and jumped to my feet, knocking my chair over in the process. I turned and glared at Sephy. Her gaze dropped away from mine almost at once. Not bothering to pick up my chair, I slammed out of the room. I knew that little act of defiance would probably get me in even more trouble. But as I marched down the corridor towards Mr Costa’s room, I was so livid I was shaking. It wasn’t nonsense. It wasn’t lies. It was the truth. Centuries ago, Crosses had moved across northern and eastern Pangaea from the south, acquiring along the way the know-how to make the guns and weapons that made everyone else bow down to them. But that didn’t mean that what they did was right. We noughts had been their slaves for so long, and even though slavery had been formally abolished over half a century ago, I didn’t see that we were much better off. We were only just beginning to be let into their schools. The number of noughts in positions of authority in the country could be counted on the fingers of one hand – without including the thumb! It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.

And though I knew that nowhere was it written that life was meant to be fair, it still made my blood bubble to think about it. Why should I feel grateful to any of them just because they’d let me into one of their precious schools? What was the point? Maybe Mum and Jude were right. Maybe this was a complete waste of my time?

My steps slowed as I approached the school secretary’s room. Was I meant to stand in the corridor or go into the secretary’s office and wait outside the headmaster’s door. After dithering about for a few moments, I decided that Mr Jason probably wanted me to stand where I could get into the maximum amount of trouble. That meant standing right outside Mr Costa’s door. I peered in through the glass in the secretary’s door. She wasn’t there. That was something at any rate. I went in, carefully shutting the door behind me. I reckoned I’d slammed enough doors that morning. I’d taken two steps into the office when quiet but angry voices floated out past Mr Costa’s slightly ajar door to meet me.

‘And I’m telling you that something needs to be done.’ It was Mrs Paxton’s voice. ‘How much longer are you going to let this situation continue?’

‘If the blankers are finding it tough here, then maybe they should go elsewhere,’ came Mr Costa’s reply.

I froze, not even breathing as I waited to hear what was said next.

‘Mr Costa, the noughts,’ Mrs Paxton stressed the word, ‘are being constantly picked on. It’s only a matter of time before one of them retaliates.’

‘Not in my school, they won’t,’ Mr Costa snapped back.

‘All I’m saying is, it’s up to us to lead from the front. If we teachers make it clear that such behaviour won’t be tolerated, then our students will have to follow our example.’

‘Mrs Paxton, are you really that naïve? Noughts are treated in this school exactly the same way as they’re treated outside . . .’

‘Then it’s up to us to make this school a haven, a sanctuary for Crosses and noughts. A place where we provide equality of education, equality of opportunity and equality of treatment.’

‘Oh, really. You’re making mountains out of gnat bites,’ Mr Costa dismissed.

‘Better to over-estimate the problems than ignore them altogether.’ Mrs Paxton was annoyed and making no attempts to hide it.

‘Enough! No-one wanted them here in the first place.’

‘I did,’ Mrs Paxton shot back. ‘And so did some of the other teachers and the government and . . .’

‘The government did as the Pangaean Economic Community ordered. They were afraid of sanctions and that was the