CHERUB Fan Fiction: Part Two

Serena had stepped directly into a corridor that gave the impression of a pretentious boarding school. The walls, like the door of the room she had just vacated, were decorated simply with plain white wallpaper, and the floor of hardwood boards. The kids out here were all at the age of adolescence, and all of them were dressed in the same CHERUB uniform, but she was the sole individual whose t-shirt was orange; the others were all wearing grey or navy-blue shirts.

“Oi,” she called to a boy walking briskly in her direction. “Where do I-”

“Can’t talk to orange,” he said, without stopping.

Frowning, Serena stood awkwardly in the middle of the hall and looked both ways. There was a row of doors in either direction and large glass windows at each end. Still unsure, she set off to her right down the corridor. A set of blonde-haired, blue-eyes twin girls stood at this end, waiting for the lift, chattering animatedly in a language which sounded like it might be Japanese.

“Hey, where am I supposed to-” she began to ask, stopping in front of them.

“Can’t talk to orange,” one of them told her austerely.

“Can’t talk to orange,” the other grinned, but as the elevator doors slid apart, she beckoned for her to follow and held up one finger, indicating to her to exit the lift at the first floor.

“Cheers,” Serena mumbled, shuffling forward.

At the first floor, the doors opened up to a lavishly designed atrium, with a bronze sculpture in the centre of the winged baby on a globe, like the logo on the t-shirts. Serena merely glanced around it once, without thorough study of each intricate detail, and promptly made her way to a reception desk, behind which a young, pretty-looking woman was reading a paperback novel with her stripy-socked feet resting on the counter.

“Good morning, Serena,” she sighed in a bored voice, marking the place in her book with a Tesco Clubcard voucher. “Come with me.”

The woman led her through a set of doors to the right of the desk, and down a quieter corridor, with royal-blue carpeted floor and white-wallpapered walls with gold trim and pinewood doors set into pinewood frames dotted along on either side. Each door had a brass plaque set into it with a name engraved in capital letters and a title in smaller print engraved underneath. They stopped at a door that read ‘ZARA ASKER, Chairman’ and the woman knocked twice before wishing Serena luck and hurrying back down the hall and out of sight. She had to wait only a moment before she heard a soft, female voice speak from inside.

“Come in.”

Serena stepped into a large office with a deep, royal-red carpet and full height windows that brought in the golden sunlight. The walls were lined with leather-bound and hardback books that sat on dark, varnished oak shelves. A desk stood in front of the windows, with a pile of paperwork stacked precariously on its edge and a clumsily-painted mug of steaming coffee next to a half-eaten chocolate muffin sat beside it. In the front, right-hand corner of the desk was a framed photograph of a tall, good-looking man in his mid-thirties with a hoop in his ear and a baby girl with a tuft of brown hair sprouting from her scalp in his left arm. His right was looped around the shoulders of a pretty woman with chestnut brown hair and a small, pug-faced, blonde thing sitting on her knees with a stubborn expression.

The woman from the photo stood up from behind the desk and smiled patronizingly, holding out a hand fro Serena to shake. She regarded the hand doubtfully and did not take it, but instead taking a wary step backwards.

“Welcome to CHERUB campus, Serena,” said the woman, withdrawing the hand into a jeans pocket. “I am, as you can probably tell by that stupid plaque on the door, Zara Asker, the Chairman. Well, really it should be Chairwoman, but it’s not. Just call me Zara. Everyone does. Except my kids; they call me mum, of course, but that’s not the point. Anyway, um, have a seat,” she gestured to the red, leather-covered armchairs by the elaborately designed fireplace. Bright amber flames licked the marble edges, but the black grate in front of it restrained the fire and kept it from setting the wooden chairs alight. Zara seated herself in one of the chairs, but Serena was still apprehensive. She kept herself at what she considered a safe distance, and glared at the oddity sitting in front of her.

“It’s okay, Serena. You’re safe here,” Zara assured her, and something in her voice, or maybe it was her expression, that made Serena trust her, so that she too sat herself in front of the crackling fire.

“How did you bring me here?”

“You were drugged,” Zara replied simply. “The agent who recommended you popped a needle into your arm.”

“Who-”

“Serena, I would like to explain to you about CHERUB first, and then you can ask any questions, okay?”

“I figure if I say no then I’ll have this insatiable curiosity about it for the rest of my life, and I won’t be able to do anything about it, and anyone I tell will think I’m just some dumb kid trying to stir up trouble, so I’ll never know unless you tell me.”

“That’s a yes then?”

“How much more of a yes do you need?”

“Fantastic. So what are your first impressions of us?” Zara questioned eagerly.

“It’s miles nicer than my foster home was, I’ll tell you that much. But I still don’t get why I was sent away to boarding school. I don’t have parents to support me and this place looks pretty pricey.”

Zara laughed, revealing two rows of pearly whites, straight as a ruler and perfectly even. Serena guessed that she had most likely had braces when she was younger.

“I’m glad you approve,” the Chairwoman said, “We have three hundred and forty pupils; four years ago we only had two hundred and eighty. We have four swimming pools, six indoor tennis courts, an all-weather football field, five gymnasiums, a shooting range and two Astroturf pitches, to name but a few resources. We also have a school onsite, and because classes have ten pupils or fewer, you’ll find it easier to advance and concentrate in smaller groups. Ninety-six percent of our students proceed to top universities, and sixty-nine percent end up at Oxbridge. How would you feel about living here?”

Serena was stunned. It took her a few moments to reply.

“Um… It sounds like a great opportunity, and it’s great to be considered, but I’m not exactly the most intelligent person in the world.”

“Well, I’ve had a look through your school record. You’ve never once missed a day of school, except for bereavement, and you’ve received A’s for effort in all your classes. In the last three science tests you took, you earned ninety-five, ninety-one and ninety-six percent. In your last history quiz you got full marks, and you received a level 6a on your most recent English assessment.”

“Okay, so I know a few things. I’m crap at maths and geography-”

“Is that because you’re not smart enough or because you find it boring?”

“Well, let’s face it, geography’s not the most interesting class to study, and maths is really just numbers. I always get bored and end up drawing in those lessons.”

“What do you draw?”

“Mostly manga and animé. I like making superheroes.”

“Really?” asked, Zara, interested. “Have you ever thought of doing external Art classes?”

“What does this have to do with me going to CHERUB?”

“Oh, right, right. So, there are some criteria for new recruits here. Firstly, you must pass a series of entrance exams, and secondly, you have to sign a Silence Act and agree to be an agent for the British Intelligence.”

Serena looked at her blankly. This didn’t make any sense whatsoever. What did MI5 have to do with boarding school? “You what?”

“This isn’t a boarding school, Serena. CHERUB is a sector of the British Intelligence Service. We use children to go undercover where adults can’t. No one ever suspects that kids are spies.” Serena was still gawping, slack-jawed, at her.

“Spies,” she finally managed.

“Yes,” Zara replied simply, folding her hands in her lap.

“Kid spies.”

“Yes.”

“Kids who are spies that spy on people.”

“Yes.”

“So… kid spies.”

“Yes.”

It was too confusing, and far too difficult to attempt to process this information so early in the morning. Her stomach rumbled with hunger as she noticed the half-a-croissant still sitting on the desk.

“That’s… weird.”

“You may be the first potential agent I’ve ever interviewed who’s managed to grasp that fact so quickly. We used to have to use the example of the burglar and the-”

“Why me?”

“Pardon?”

“Why- why did you choose me?”

“Well, Serena, I would have thought that was obvious. You’re intelligent- and don’t bother denying it; you’re creative; you’re physically fit, you have a habit of getting into trouble; and you throw one hell of a right hook.”

“How do you know about that me punching Lauren?”

“Lauren Adams is one of our best agents. It was unfortunate that she lost her temper and whacked her brother over the head with a rounders bat, earning herself a recruitment mission as punishment, but there you go. She was the one who drugged you and called a CHERUB pool car to drive you here. I believe you knew her as Lauren Summers.”

“Lauren- Lauren is one of your people?” Serena asked, incredulously, her voice rising, the shock in her expression quite evident. “But- but- but she was my friend! I trusted her!”

“I’m sorry you’re upset,” said Zara, surprised, “but at least this way you’ll be able to remain friends with her without the hassle of having a long-distance friendship. That is, if you decide to take the entrance exams.”

“Have any agents ever been killed on the job?” Serena asked.

The expression on Zara’s face changed dramatically. Her smile slid away and disappeared.

“In the fifty-five years that CHERUB has been in operation, four youngsters have been killed on a mission. I’ve only been Chairman for about a year now, but so far… so far everyone’s in one piece.” She shook away tears and composed herself. “So, Serena, here’s the offer. If you want, you can take the entrance exam. There are five parts, so it’ll take the rest of the day to get through them. If you do well enough, we’ll offer you a place, and you can go back to West Luton Foster Home for a couple of days to make up your mind. What do you say?”

Serena thought for a moment.

“I think I’d have to be a nutcase to refuse.”


TO BE CONTINUED...