Monica was now motionless and white, her skin as thin as old worn parchment. She appeared as if she had been preserved in a desert for years, to become desiccated and dry, like a leaf at the end of a long hot summer.
David Mentmore looked across the table. His eyes were bleak. “I’ll finish the process here,” he said. “Command Override. Cathy vanish.” And the screen went blank.
Abigail took a deep breath. What she’d just witnessed had, she knew, changed her forever. It was like opening a door and catching a naked glimpse of evil.
‘Tom.’ She was hardly aware the T-Screen was picking up her thoughts. ‘We need to get out of here. Tonight.’
Immediately, he came back 'how?'
'I don't know.' A pause, then 'yet.'
Chapter 9: the animals
Deep in thought, Abigail fed bits of burger to George. She was inside, so the T-Screen had vanished. She didn’t want to talk to Tom. She didn’t want to talk to anyone.
She watched George happily demolishing his food. What was it Monica had said?
'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.'
And if that worked for Monica, Abigail thought, it might also work for her. Abigail settled back in her chair, closed her eyes and imagined a V-Screen stretching from side to side and from top to bottom. She made it yellow, the colour of sunshine. It was very easy. The V-Screen seemed to flood across her mental landscape like yellow paint being poured from a pot. Soon there was nothing else.
‘.... And then, slowly, they appeared. Like lights, pulsing away.’
Abigail waited, forcing herself to relax, breathing in and out slowly and calmly, concentrating on each breath. She could hear George sniffing about for more food. There was birdsong from a nearby tree. Through a window, a breeze cooled her face.
And in the yellow, like a distant light shining fitfully through fog, a small pulse appeared, as faint as a whisper in the breeze.
At first, Abigail didn’t know what it was. Maybe, she thought, it was a blemish somehow in her imaginary V-Screen. So she smoothed it out, as if wiping with a brush. But the pulse remained, growing stronger and brighter before turning purple and settling down into an insistent beat.
‘ .... I wasn’t sure what to do, but then I concentrated on one of the lights, and suddenly, well I was George.’
With increasing excitement and anticipation, Abigail focused in, concentrating on the purple dot, trying to get close and closer.
The dot seemed to swell and suddenly, perfectly naturally, she was plunged into a world of smell and eager anticipation of the next piece of burger!
She was looking intently at the soles of a pair of Sparmy boots. Was that a small bit of meat? No. Pity. But Abigail still wagged her tail.
Wagged her tail?
Abigail opened her eyes and sat up in her chair. Another part of her brain saw the Sparmy boots move. A face loomed into view, looking down over a pair of knees. Her face. Abigail.
She was simultaneously looking down at George, who was looking up at her, and she was also George looking up at herself looking down!
And the most peculiar thing about this was that it wasn’t peculiar at all. It all made perfect sense. It was no more odd than listening to music and eating at the same time. Or walking and holding a conversation. One part of her brain was controlling George, while another bit of her mind was just getting on with her ‘normal’ life.
It was great!
“Hello George,” she said, grinning.
As George, she couldn’t say ‘hello’ back, so she gave a quick bark and wagged her tail even more furiously.
She could do it. She could control animals. Well, George at least.
Suddenly, George tensed! His dog senses, more finely tuned than her human ones, felt the static build up in the air before she did.
“Oh Abi,” said a contrite seeming Cathy as she popped into view, “I’m so sorry.”
George might be able to sense static before her, but Abigail had a highly developed sense of danger.
And Cathy represented danger. Was danger. But after what had happened in the training room, Abigail could afford to be abrupt.
She looked round sourly at the VF. “What d’you want?”
Cathy stuck her hands in her pockets. “I shouldn’t have done it. You weren’t ready. I got a good telling off from David, I can tell you.”
“A telling off!” Abigail let the scorn pour into her voice. “You’re just a program with attitude. How can he tell you off? What did he do? Click a button marked ‘telling off?’”
“Oh Abi, don’t be like that!”
Abigail clapped her hands. “Cathy go!”
“Oh Abi, if only you understood what I was trying to do! I was trying to help you find your talent!”
Abigail clapped her hands again and shouted. “Cathy! Go!”
And was, seemingly, alone. Abigail was now feeling tired, restless and excited at the same time. She’d lost contact with George. She could see him snuffling hopefully around the bottom of the fridge, but she was no longer in control.
Well, she should be able to get it back. For a second or two Abigail closed her eyes, the better to concentrate.
And discovered the inner landscape of her mind had radically changed. But it wasn't scary, frightening or bewildering at all. On the contrary, Abigail felt both comfortable and fulfilled. It was as if, without knowing it, she had been waiting all her life for this change to happen.
She felt complete.
Eagerly, she explored. There, more or less in the bottom left-hand corner, was George’s purple pulse. But now, he was not alone.
Inside her head, floating gently like Chinese lanterns, were a myriad of pulses, of different colours, intensity and duration.
And again, she remembered Monica Alterra. ‘......they appeared. Like lights, pulsing away.’
Abigail took a deep breath, trying to understand exactly what had happened. Afterwards, she realised the word she needed was ‘sensitised.’ Once one animal (In this case, George) had popped into being inside her head, her mind had become sensitive to all the others. So they also sprang into existence. It was as if she had been in a dark city at night, and then suddenly everybody had opened a window, switched on a light and shouted 'Hello!'
Her interior V-Screen was now redundant and had vanished.
It was amazing and exhilarating, but Abigail couldn't let her delight show, not with Cathy around. She continued to scowl down at her boots, as if still upset.
But her head was in turmoil. She could control animals! The possibilities seemed endless. If she had known this back in the streets, she'd have got a gang of dogs, big fierce dogs, and no-one would have been able to say no to her. Even the street bosses would have been scared!
For a moment or two Abigail allowed her mind to leap from possibility to possibility but then, as ever with her, she concentrated on the here and now. She wasn't in the streets. She was thousands of miles away, in the middle of a jungle, on her own. Well, not entirely on her own. There was Tom. And of course, George.
And, she suddenly realized, there were all those other animals, in her head, glowing away. They were potential allies as well.
Up high were some quickly pulsing golden orbs. Abigail focused in …
... And found she was flying! She was a bird! Now this should be fun. She banked and swooped. Down below was a circular compound, with two small buildings.
Without breaking contact with the bird (a seagull, she thought) Abigail walked outside. And again saw herself, this time from above. Plus a small white shape ambling along at her feet. George of course.
Without letting go of the seagull, Abigail sought and quickly found George’s purple pulse. Again she focused in.
And was looking through George’s eyes once more. And she was also controlling the seagull. There was no extra effort to control more than one animal at the same time. A broad grin spread on her
face. She felt she could do anything!
In front of her, the T-Screen appeared. ‘Abigail, what’s happening?’
‘Tom! I’ve done it! I can control animals!’ Her mind was stimulated, racing along, inspired with possibilities.
Her dancing, delighted yellow words were swamped by his fierce red. ‘DON’T LET THEM KNOW. I DON’T WANT YOU TO BE DISAPPEARED.’
Before she could attempt to stop it, the T-Screen caught her irritation. ‘OK OK OK! Just lay off, will you? I know what I’m doing.’ And then, astoundingly, ‘I have an escape plan.’
Had she? Again, the T-Screen seemed to have declared one of her thoughts before she was aware she'd thought it.
There was a short pause before he came somewhat grumpily back. ‘It’d better be good. We’ll only have one chance.’
That stopped Abigail in her tracks. He was right. There could be no rehearsals or trial runs. Moodily, Abigail began trudging around the fence. Did she have an escape plan? Well yes. Not much of one, just a half-baked idea, hardly a plan at all. She shouldn’t have been so short with Tom.
‘Sorry Tom,’ the T-Screen said ‘I shouldn’t have said that. You’re right.’
Sometimes, Abigail reflected sourly, T-Screens said too much. Normally she hardly ever admitted to being wrong. And apologies from her were as rare as hen’s teeth.
But she did need more information. She concentrated on the gull, flapping her wings to gain height. From above, it all became clear. Her compound was one of seven, arranged like a child’s drawing of a flower. In the centre was a large circular area, with several buildings, some powerful looking generators and what she recognised as barracks. Groups of men and women in Sparmy uniform walked busily around. Parked over to one side was a StarStriker, almost certainly the one that brought her here, and a couple of drab utilitarian Sparmy flyers.
Spaced evenly around this central compound, at a distance of maybe fifty yards, were six much smaller enclosures, of which Abigail’s was one. Each contained two buildings (an accommodation block and a training room, she supposed), and were connected to the central hub by an enclosed path.
For her plan, such as it was, to work, she needed to know where Tom was. Maybe if she got him to stand outside, she’d be able to spot him.
‘Tom, can you stand outside? I need to know where you are.’ The T-Screen not only sent the words but also what she saw through the gull’s eyes. A slight feeling of smugness stole over Abigail. Huh! She could send pictures too, although she had no idea how it had happened.
Tom’s response was gratifyingly respectful. ‘Wow! Is this a live feed?’
‘Yeah. Maybe. Not sure. I don’t know how I did it.’ Well, so much for feeling smug.
On the picture appeared a red arrow, pointing into the next compound around from her own. ‘I am here.’ Then a second arrow popped up, pointing at the StarStriker. ‘I can fly this if it helps.’
Immediately, Abigail understood the potential. ‘Wow! I’ll say.’ Her plan expanded to take this in. ‘Tom. Can you turn off the VFs so they can’t watch us?’
'Not sure...' There was quite a wait this time, as if Tom had gone away to try something out. Eventually, the screen said ‘No. I can’t turn them off.’ There was another pause before ‘But I should be able to do something just as good.’
‘Oh?’
Another wait until finally, ‘Done it! Go to where you met me. The dead spot.’
Abigail was beginning to get the hang of using the T-Screen. The secret seemed to be not to try too hard. She set off round to the side of the training room. The T-Screen said ‘OK. Going there now.’
She turned the corner and stopped. For in the dead spot, staring back at her, was another holo. Of herself. Exactly, completely identical: same face, hair, clothes. Unnerving. Exciting. Somewhat weird.
‘Wow!’ the T-Screen immediately reflected her astonishment. But was she truly so frowning and morose? Unbidden, the T-Screen said 'No way I'm that grumpy!'
His reply was immediate. 'Oh? It should be accurate. I got it from your Sparmy records.'
A pause. Maybe she did look like that. That could be her as others saw her. Abigail sighed. 'OK, OK, whatever. What next?'
The red lettering seemed even more pleased with itself. ‘Clever, eh? The holo can take your place. To your VF, it’ll be just as if you were there!’
Abigail scowled. He was infuriating. But she had to admit the holo was a good idea. And then her plan, up until then only partly-formed, became complete.
‘Tom, we escape tonight. And here’s how we’re going to do it.’
Chapter 10: the tunnel
The short tropical sunset was painting the sky red. Abigail sat outside staring at it. There was a small gap in the trees where she could see the sun setting behind a distant mountain. Living in the enclosed V-City streets, Abigail had seldom seen a sunset, and it was beautiful.
Since she and Tom had made their escape plans, Abigail had been busy practicing and refining her control over animals. If truth be known, she hadn’t improved much. She’d discovered virtually everything in the first ten minutes.
But she had learnt her range was disappointingly short. After seventy or eighty yards both contact and control abruptly terminated.
George, on her lap, seemed restless. Lazily, Abigail found his purple pulse and gently focused in. She didn’t take command, just settled like a passenger in his small brain.
George was hungry. Suddenly he jumped from Abigail’s lap and set off purposefully towards the fence. He wanted food. He was going to find food. Abigail half grinned. In many regards, George was like her.
‘Who feeds you, George?’ Abigail found herself thinking. ‘Where do you spend the night?’
As she watched, George reached the fence. The mesh loomed large before him, but without breaking stride, George slipped through as if it wasn’t there. Abigail felt a small electric tingle from him as he did so. The fence, here, was no more than a V-Screen.
George entered a tunnel, which was made of perma-plastic and arched high over his head. High enough, Abigail realised, to accommodate a human.
The little dog sped up. There was the smell of cooking and people and machinery. He rounded a curve and abruptly went out of range, so her contact with him was lost. Abigail came back to her own mind with a bit of a bump.
Frowning, she got up and went over to the fence. Even close up, the V-Screen was almost undetectable. She thrust out a hand and it seemed to disappear without resistance.
“Hi Abi!” The VF was suddenly beside her. “I see you’ve found our secret tunnel!”
Without thinking, Abigail said “I saw George go through it.” She withdrew her hand and plunged it in again. “Where does it lead?”
“To the central compound. It’s very dull.”
Suddenly, Abigail made up her mind. “I’m going to have a look.” And with one stride, she went through.
In front of her was the pathway glinting silver in the moonlight under the arching dome of perma-plastic. On both sides, the jungle pressed in.
* * *
David Mentmore heard a scratching at his door. Must be George come back for his supper. As he let the little dog in, a V-Screen purred into view, showing a recording of Abigail disappearing through the fence.
“She’s found the tunnel.” The technician’s voice was somewhat bored. “She followed the dog.”
David shrugged. “It was to be expected. There’s nothing much she can do. Bing me if she’s not back in ten.”
“OK.” The V-Screen melted away.
* * *
Spiker had taught her how to balance on the balls of her feet when it was necessary to move quickly and silently. Abigail did so now, stealing along the path like a wraith. And in her head, as she moved, the pulsing lights changed, New ones appeared in front, old ones blinked out behind.
And then she realised they must know what she was doing. After all, Cathy had seen her enter the tunnel. Abigail glanced round. No VF that she coul
d see. Maybe Cathy couldn’t leave her compound. She’d ask Tom. On second thoughts, maybe not. She’d only get a lecture.
In spite of knowing it didn’t really matter, she pressed herself against the curving wall and crept slowly forward. As she moved, the end of the tunnel revealed itself. As a gate, firmly locked.
It was made from a grid of iron bars. The square holes were big enough for George, but not for her. Abigail reached the gate and stood there, looking through. On the other side there were lights, vehicles and people walking about, casually chatting. Some were eating. She heard laughter. From one of the barracks came music.
All normal. In fact somewhat cheerful. The sort of Sparmy life she’d secretly hoped for.
Abigail grasped the bars with her hands, feeling the unyielding metal cutting into her palms. It brought into sharp, hard focus what she already knew. She might be ‘Special’, but in reality she was a prisoner.
Abigail glumly moved back into the shadows, sank onto her haunches and closed her eyes. And there, right on the edge of her mind, was George’s small purple pulse.
Abigail focused in.
Nose in his bowl, George was busy bolting his supper. He was in the corner of a room that looked remarkably like her own. It must be a standard Sparmy set up. Alongside was a blanket. From the comfortable, familiar smells Abigail could tell this was where George normally slept. David Mentmore was lounging in an easy chair, his feet up on a table. In front of him hovered a V-Screen.
On which he seemed to be playing sudoku.
Abigail frowned with annoyance. She hadn’t started with the idea of spying, but now she was here, it seemed like a good idea. But she didn’t want to spend it watching David Mentmore putting numbers in a grid!
George’s ears suddenly twitched as static filled the room. A large holo shimmered into view. An old man sitting at a desk. Smart, expensive uniform. A sardonic, world-weary face. David put his feet down. The sudoku vanished.
The holo officer turned towards David. “Your report,” he said briefly “is approved.”
David sat forward, suddenly alert. “All of it?”
"Yes," came the reply. A pause before adding, “he’s too dangerous.”