At once his red words appeared. ‘I’m scared. I want to go back to my Dad. I want to escape.’
Swiftly followed by ‘I need your help.’
Abigail blinked. There were so many things she didn’t know. She could think of a million reasons why she shouldn’t commit to anything right now. For one, she didn’t even know if Tom truly existed. All she’d seen was a poor holo, and you didn't need to be anyone 'Special' to make one of those. And then she had another thought. 'Tom' could have been created by anyone. David Mentmore for example, only for what reason she couldn’t imagine.
Yep, it would be stupid to commit to anything. She had to lie low, look around, understand what was going on. The last thing she should do was get involved in some crazy plan with someone who might not even exist. It would be madness.
But the T-Screen didn't reflect those thoughts. At some level, it understood her better than she did herself.
For it said, in yellow words hanging starkly in the air, 'OK. I’ll help. We’ll escape together.’
And so she was committed.
Chapter 7: the training room
Deep in thought, Abigail walked slowly on round the compound. The sun had lost some of its heat and there was now a refreshing breeze. Beside her trotted George. In front was the T-Screen with several lines of red words on it. Tom, she’d found, seemed fond of lecturing. And also of boasting how clever he was. Right now he was on about the VFs.
‘Never forget VFs are nothing more than a sophisticated surveillance mechanism. They want you to start thinking they are real. That’s why they give you the P-Suit. To make you forget. If you’re not careful you’ll start confiding in them. Remember, even when you can’t see them, they’re there. Never forget they are the enemy, but you can’t let them know you know it.’
But Abigail was thinking about something else. Abruptly her yellow letters cut across his red. ‘How do I control animals?’
There was a pause, as if he was put out at being interrupted. Then ‘with your mind. That’s what they think. I can’t hack too far. But they had another girl here a few weeks ago.’ A picture popped up of a teenage girl. Black hair, pretty, smiling shyly and awkwardly at the camera. Tom’s words appeared along the bottom, like a subtitle. ‘Her name was Monica Alterra. She had a profile like yours. She could control animals.’
Abigail stared at the image. This Monica was obviously a Have. She’d never been terrified by the E-Spiders or had to face up to the street bosses.
‘What happened to her?’
‘I’m not sure. She was here for a couple of days and then seems to have vanished.’ The picture was replaced by, ‘I think she was disappeared.’
Again Abigail felt the knot form in her stomach, and then, as always with her, cold determination took over. ‘Tom. I need to know how to start with this. Can you find out exactly how she did it?’
‘I dunno.. it was a while ago..’ the T-Screen was obviously reflecting his thoughts as he picked over the problem. ‘Maybe if I can hack the archives.. I’ll get back to you.’ The T-Screen went dead.
Abigail thought for a minute then walked over to where the fence was in shade. Overhanging trees formed a canopy of green over her head. The sun was getting low and had lost much of its strength, but the earth was giving back the heat of the day. Birds flew high overhead. She hunkered down and rested her back against the mesh of the fence, which gave slightly. It was comfortable and peaceful.
It was just her and George. She held out a hand and he came sniffing over. Then she remembered what Tom had told her about the VFs. ‘And even when you can’t see them, they’re there.’
The thought was creepy. She was being watched even now. In that case, Abigail reasoned, it would be better to have the VF in view as a constant reminder. She clapped her hands. “Cathy come.”
* * *
In spite of himself, David Mentmore was uneasy. On the surface, everything with Abigail was proceeding as usual. She was interacting more and more with her VF. Soon she’d forget Cathy wasn’t real and start treating her as a trusted friend.
Then it would be time for the training room. This time tomorrow, he told himself, he’d be able to chalk up another success.
It could even take less time than it had with Monica. But nevertheless, his instincts were telling him something wasn’t right. Restlessly, he went again to the monitoring centre.
The bored technician looked up but said nothing. The commander wasn't a man to be crossed. David came and stood behind him.
"Anything?" He asked.
The technician shrugged. "She asked Cathy to come," he said. "That's a first." He pointed at the nearest V-Screen. Abigail was sitting in the shade, leaning back against the fence. He zeroed the V-Screen in on her face. Abigail was saying “You’re not giving me much to work on. Just something to do with animals.” She picked George up and smiled. “I mean, look at him. What am I meant to do with him?”
“Oh Abi, I wish I could help.” Cathy’s contrite voice echoed round the monitoring centre. "But I really can't. You've no idea how frustrating it is for me. I was made to be your friend, but they didn't tell me enough to let me help."
David's voice was hard. “Get her," he said "in the training room.”
The technician shook his head. “With respect sir, I think it’s too early.”
David said “I don't want to repeat myself. Do it. Get her in the training room.”
The other man raised his eyebrows for a moment, then leant forward slightly and spoke. “Cathy. Jump change. Training room.”
* * *
Abigail was considering what to say next when suddenly, Cathy gave a little enthusiastic jump. “I know what!” She clapped her hands. “I can help! Let’s start your training right now!”
“What?”
“We’ll go to the training room. There’s loads of stuff there!” The VF started walking rapidly over the bare earth. “Come on!” Her enthusiasm was catching. Abigail found herself getting to her feet.
She drew level with the VF. “The training room? How does that work?”
“I hook you up to a scanner,” said Cathy. “Then you start trying things with George. Every time you do something that matches your profile, a V-Screen shows people cheering. They call it a..” for a moment she stumbled, as if finding it difficult to recall the hard technical terms. “Yes! they call it a positive feedback loop.” She smiled, congratulating herself on remembering. “It’s a way of quickly finding out what you can do.” She stopped and turned towards Abigail, her face full of mischievous cunning. “Hey, this'll really put one over on David if we crack it today!” She turned and set off again. “Come on! I can’t wait to get started!”
Frowning, Abigail followed more slowly.
When she reached the door, Cathy stopped and turned back. “Come on, Abi.” The door opened, and without seeming to look, she stepped inside. “You can trust me!”
For a second, Abigail paused, then shrugged and stepped over the threshold. There didn’t seem to be any reason not to. She'd be able to call a halt whenever she wanted. And it did sound like a quick way of finding out about her Special talent.
As she walked over the floor, there was an electric tingle, and the temperature dropped a few degrees. Disconcertingly, her headache came back.
She had taken two steps when the door swung shut behind her. Startled, she turned round.
Cathy was already over by the massage table. Seeing Abigail’s expression, she laughed. “Honestly,” she said, “you’re like a scared little rabbit! It’s to keep the cool air in, that’s all.” She waved her hand over the ranks of electronic equipment. A series of V-Screens popped up.
“Now..” She appeared to pat the massage table. It wasn’t co-ordinated quite right, Abigail noticed. Cathy’s electronic hand seemed to sink into the brown surface.
Abigail was finding it hard to think. The rows of electronic equipment seemed oppressive. There were not, she noted, any windows. And something had disappeared. For a
moment she couldn’t think what it was, and then she realised. The faint, faint outline of the T-Screen was no longer there. What had Tom said? Something about too many sensors indoors? Oh well, that was alright then.
“I don’t really want to do this now,” she said. “My head hurts.”
“Oh,” came the instant reply. “That happens quite frequently.” Cathy's eyes were wide and honest. “It’s your Special talent wanting to come out.”
“What?”
“Look,” said the VF. “For years you’ve kept your Special talent suppressed because you didn’t know it was there. It now knows its time is coming, and it’s getting impatient.”
Abigail scowled. It made a sort of sense. If only she could think clearly!
Again Cathy patted the table. Again her hand went a little too deep. It seemed important, but Abigail couldn’t work out why. "C'mon," she said, "you trust me, don't you?"
Slowly, Abigail went over and sat down.
“Great! Well done!” Cathy was encouraging. “Now lie down. This won’t take long!”
Frowning, Abigail looked round. “How are you going to connect me up?” she asked. “If you can’t touch anything?”
Cathy's reply was breezy and offhand. “Oh, these gizmos are all automatic!”
Abigail paused for a moment longer. Something was nagging her, but it didn’t seem important now. She lay down.
“Good,” said Cathy, smiling. “Now don’t move.”
From behind Abigail’s head came a faint buzzing, as if from a distant swarm of insects. Under her head, the surface of the table seemed to thin and become less dense. She had the sensation her head was sinking slowly into the softest pillow in the world. But she knew her head wasn’t moving. Maybe the surface of the table was like a big airbag, which was being inflated. Yes, that made sense. That would explain why she felt as if the table was somehow wrapping itself around her head.
And on the other side of the buzzing, she could hear something.
Something short and sharp.
Barking.
George!
Abruptly, Abigail tried to sit up. Her head was held for an instant as if glued, then broke free, and she half rolled onto the floor before quickly standing up. She shook herself and looked down. On the massage table, where her head had been, was a raised black doughnut shape, undulating slightly as it poured back onto a central hole. As it went, the original brown of the table top was exposed. The hole was as black as the darkest night. For an instant, she thought she caught a glimpse of something glinting, far far down below, like the surface of a lake momentarily reflecting the moon. And then the last of the doughnut poured away, the hole closed and it was just another innocent brown massage table.
“George!” She said. “How can I try things out with George if he’s not here?”
Cathy laughed. “Oh, is that all! Really! I thought the world had stopped or something.” Abigail stared at her. Cathy rolled her eyes as if this didn’t need explanation. “Whatever you’re able to do with animals, you’ll obviously have to be able to do at a distance. So George is outside, you’re inside. Simple.” She cocked an ear and grinned. “If I were you I’d lie down again and try and stop him barking.”
But a sudden revulsion had seized Abigail. “Yeah. But you’re not me, are you!” She strode through the VF, went over to the door and kicked it open. Outside, George was going frantic, but he didn’t immediately come to her. He bounced about outside, obviously scared.
Abigail stepped through the door. Immediately her head cleared and George was in her arms.
“It’s OK boy, it’s OK..” holding him tightly, she walked back to the shaded part of the fence. “Whatever it is we need to do,” she said, “we’ll do together.” Then she added, without knowing exactly why, “We’ll do it outside, where it’s safe.”
As she sat back down, the T-Screen popped into view. Tom’s red words pulsing urgently. ‘ABIGAIL! ARE YOU THERE? I HAVE FOUND SOMETHING OUT!’
* * *
David Mentmore watched Abigail walk away from the training room. Then he cursed and turned away from the V-Screen. The technician bit his lip and said nothing. This was not the time to say ‘I told you so.’
Instead he asked “Sir, shall we try again tomorrow morning?”
David scratched his head and looked at another bank of V-Screens. On it could be seen Tom Boyd, sitting quietly in his room, doing some form of 3D sudoku.
“I suppose nothing’s happened with him?” David asked.
“No Sir. Same old, same old.”
For a moment longer David paused, then he walked out. As he crossed towards his own quarters, he was already outlining the report he’d write. Requesting the complex be closed. Things were getting too screwed up here. They’d move somewhere else. Of the two remaining Specials Abigail was becoming more bother than she was worth, and as for Tom? Well, as they all knew, he was potentially too dangerous.
No. He’d get the place closed and cut his losses.
By this time next week they’d all be somewhere else. And as for the Specials? Well by this time tomorrow they wouldn’t be anywhere. They'd have been disappeared.
Chapter 8: Monica Alterra
‘I tell you, Tom, the table acted almost like it was alive! Scary.’
Abigail stared at the T-Screen in front of her. Almost unbidden, her yellow words had given a precise account of what had happened in the training room. Much better, she conceded, than she could have done herself.
And then her next thought escaped: ‘Tom, what do we do now?’
He didn't reply directly. Instead, in red, he sent: ‘I’ll show you what I found in the archives.’ The words dissolved and a vid started. Monica Alterra again, looking directly forwards, as if recording a selfie. Behind Monica was a training room, with the rows of monitors, a brown table and no windows. It was, Abigail suddenly realised, her training room.
‘It’s a bit scary, particularly after what you’ve been through.’ Tom’s red words again. ‘Don’t let on you’re watching this.’ And then he added something Abigail didn't immediately understand. 'It was recorded by her VF.'
Monica was talking enthusiastically. “It’s unbelievable!” The words appeared again as white subtitles.
And as Monica was looking straight at the camera, Tom's words made sense. A VF had recorded this. And then Monica added 'Oh, Cathy, you've no idea how good it feels!'
Cathy! She was talking to Cathy! Abigail felt a sick feeling in the bottom of her stomach. This had taken place right here. Whatever had happened to Monica, and Tom said it was scary, had happened in this very place.
Abigail forced herself to watch.
‘I can control animals,” Monica continued, her face lighting up with excitement.
“That’s great!” That must be Cathy talking to her. “How did you do that?”
“Well, I was outside, and George came over. You know how friendly he is.”
George! Abigail felt another stab of jealousy. This Monica also knew George. She was talking about him as if he was her dog.
“And I was sitting there with him on my lap,” the Monica on the T-Screen continued, “when I remembered a vid from ages ago. Ancient. About someone who made friends with some big monkeys. All she did, for days, was to sit there, waiting for them to come to her.” She looked worried for a moment. “Am I making sense?”
“Oh yes. Come on, let’s see what all these gizmos make of this!” The viewpoint changed and shifted, so Cathy must be moving. Walking probably. Over to the massage table, if that’s what it truly was. “Come and sit down.”
Still talking, Monica followed “So I thought, maybe all I had to do was sort of wait for them to contact me, if you see what I mean.” She sat.
Through Cathy’s electronic eyes, the surface of the top half of the table seemed to be moving. Tiny tiny ripples were spreading out and bouncing back, getting more and more agitated. Almost as if they were hungry. Abigail started feeling sick. Ten minutes ago, she had been lyi
ng there.
Monica looked up, her eyes trusting. “So I sat there waiting. And then I thought to myself, maybe they were trying to contact me, but I didn’t know. So I built a V-Screen in my head. Really big. Right from one side to the other. All one colour, like a giant message board.”
“Gosh,” said Cathy. “That was clever. Now lie down.”
Monica hesitated, as if she suddenly felt threatened. “You trust me, don’t you?” Said Cathy.
“Oh yes.”
“Then lie down. Everything’s fine. Close your eyes and keep talking.”
“And then, slowly,” said Monica, swinging her feet up and lying down on her back, “they appeared. Like lights, pulsing away.”
“Wow! That is something.” Monica smiled trustingly up at Cathy. She seemed unaware that around her head the surface of the table was slowly turning deepest black, as if a liquid was flooding upwards. With mounting horror, Abigail saw it rising slowly, inexorably creeping like thick treacle towards her ears.
Abigail felt her scalp tighten. A few minutes ago, this would have been happening to her.
Apprehension settled on her like a stone. She wanted to shout ‘stop!’ but this had all happened in the past.
“I wasn’t sure what to do,” Monica was still chatting away “But then I concentrated on one of the lights, and suddenly, well I was George.”
The thick black treacle reached her ears and seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if savouring the moment, before pouring in. For a second Monica didn't react, but then her eyes opened wide and her mouth contorted. She was screaming.
Tom's red came up: 'This goes on for two or three minutes. I've cut it down.'
There came a small jolt in the recording. Abigail could hardly watch. This, so easily, so very easily, could have happened to her.
And then the playback resumed. Monica had stopped screaming and was now slack, as if something vital had been turned off. The black treacle had continued rising and now formed a hideous mound over her face, before a cave opened up as it descended into her mouth.
Abigail found she was blinking back the tears. Tom’s red letters formed. ‘That was the worst bit. I've taken out about ten minutes.'
The playback jumped again. David Mentmore was now the other side of the table. He was looking down as the black liquid, if it was a liquid, retreated. It drew away from the girl’s face, draining, reluctantly it seemed, away and down. Soon it was no more than a diminishing puddle forming a shrinking halo around her face. Then it was gone.