“Yeah: at.” Ruby addressed Jonquil. “Anyway, you’ll soon forget how to cry as well. In the meantime, I’d say you need some cheering up. Tomorrow we’ll take you to the Serenity.”
“What’s the Serenity?” asked Jonquil.
“A lot of fun. You’ll see.”
Cyan drummed his palms against the table, before tapping Teal’s hand and pointing at his tray. “You owe me your pudding.”
One of Teal’s eyebrows rose. “What are you on about?”
“Don’t play dumb. You lost our bet.” Cyan wagged his thumb in Jonquil’s direction. “Today’s helicopter delivery was a new resident. I was right; you were wrong. So come on. Hand it over.”
Teal spluttered and squirmed on his seat. “But it’s rhubarb crumble! Can’t you wait ’til tomorrow? You know it’s my favourite.”
“And rightly so. It’s the king of crumbles. The duke of desserts. That’s why it’s my favourite too. Send it this way.”
Grimacing sullenly, Teal slid his bowl across the table to Cyan, who began tucking in straight away.
“If it helps,” said Cyan, beaming through his food, “you’ve earned yourself a substitute dessert.”
“Yeah?”
“Humble pie.”
Teal shook his head with a sigh. “Your jokes are as bad as your driving.”
Cyan started his second rhubarb crumble, then paused to point at Jonquil with a custard-covered spoon. “Are you all right? You’re doing that thing with your fingers again.”
Jonquil sat on her hands.
“We’ll show you the games room and lounge tonight. That’ll cheer you up. And if that fails, there’s the Serenity tomorrow. The Serenity’s always a blast.”
The next morning Cyan wolfed down breakfast, threw a packed lunch into his satchel, then dashed from the canteen to the foyer. He was heading for the sanctuary’s exit when a beep sent his hand to his pocket. He pulled out his locket and flipped it open.
Dr Haven’s office. ASAP.
Cyan sighed and was soon knocking on the director’s door. He pushed it open as it buzzed.
“You wanted to see me, Doctor?”
Dr Haven glanced up from some paperwork on his desk, stood and beckoned Cyan in. “I did.”
Before Cyan could even sit down, the director handed him some pills and a glass of water. He walked immediately away and tugged the curtain in the corner aside.
Cyan downed his pills and nodded at the strobe chair. “Strobe therapy today?”
Smiling wryly, the doctor tapped the chair’s console. “As perceptive as ever, Cyan.”
Cyan shrugged and crossed the office. While stretching across the chair he was struck by a thought. “Doctor?”
“Mm-hm.”
“Is this anything to do with…what I saw yesterday?” He drummed his hands against the leather. “You know, on the bones?”
The director chuckled. “That’s an odd thing to ask, Cyan. You know very well we can only touch memories from before residents arrive here. We have an ethical—”
“Code. Right. Of course.” Cyan gave an embarrassed laugh. “Sorry, wasn’t thinking.” He shrugged. “Just feels like a while since my last strobe session. Thought this one might be something to do with the whale bones. Since it’s happening so soon after.” He felt a chill as Dr Haven attached pads to his temples.
The doctor tutted playfully. “A little thing called coincidence. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.” He cracked his knuckles. “But now that you bring it up, you’ll remember from our conversation that you weren’t to talk of what you saw at the bones. It might be best if you started putting that into practice.”
“Even with you?”
“Even with me. Have you mentioned it to anyone?”
Cyan’s eyes followed the chair’s concave screen, which Dr Haven positioned close to his face. “No. No one.”
“Good. You’ll no doubt remember what I said about consequences.”
Cyan turned his head to the director. “Yeah. But what—”
“Eyes on the screen, Cyan.”
The chair began to hum. Its steady vibration was soft, soothing. Whirring sounds stretched and echoed in Cyan’s ears.
The doctor’s voice seemed to reach him from a distance. “So tell me: what do you have planned today?”
Cyan had to concentrate to answer. “We’re going to the Serenity.” The words were slow and sticky in his mouth. “Showing Jonquil.”
“Excellent,” replied Dr Haven. “I’m sure she’ll benefit immensely from explorrrrrrriiinngg ttthhhhheeee…”
The doctor’s words merged into a flat, murmuring drone. Cyan’s breathing slowed, and all the world was white, flashing light.
A little later, Cyan found himself blinking at clouds. He was standing on the marble stairway outside the sanctuary.
Teal and Jonquil were already perched on the steps, with Ruby pacing back and forth below.
Cyan saluted and hollered. “Ahoy! Everyone ready?” While heading down the steps he pulled a face and flapped his blazer. “Red uniforms today – my least favourite. I look like an overgrown raspberry.”
Jonquil was twirling long black hair between her fingers. “I think it looks good on you.” She flushed suddenly and began staring at her plimsolls.
“Nah. Doesn’t suit me.”
Ruby nodded in earnest. “I agree. You look vile.”
Teal sighed. “All the colours look bad on me. And these shirts…” He scratched the soft brown skin at the nape of his neck. “They’re always so prickly.”
Cyan aimed a thumb across the harbour towards the hangar. “Come on. Better grab quads quick, before Teal gets started on itchy shirts again.”
Teal cocked his head at him. “Just try not to crash into anyone, yeah?”
They were soon goggled up and rolling out of the hangar on three quads, with Jonquil sharing Cyan’s. “Sure you don’t want your own bike?” he asked. “Last chance.”
“Not just yet.”
“Your call. Just make sure you hold on tight. These things are fast.”
Cyan and Ruby led the way down the cobbled ramp to the sand, with Teal following behind. They passed some younger residents who were digging happily not far from the bank, using buckets, spades and shells to build sprawling sand sculptures. The children waved as they rolled by, and after an exchange of cheery ahoys, Cyan revved his engine and the quads picked up speed.
A sudden low humming had Cyan peering sideways. He smiled and slowed his quad.
Ruby decelerated too. “What’s keeping you, slow coach?”
“Guess who’s come out to play.”
Twisting to look backwards, Cyan saw the hovercraft crawling down the harbour’s ramp. The younger residents turned tail from the mammoth machine, their blazers flapping in the blast from its immense twin propellers. The craft hit the sand and started to accelerate.
Ruby and Teal watched the hovercraft draw nearer. Cyan hollered over the growing noise. “We’ve got a head start! On your marks, get set—”
Ruby sped ahead with brown curls thrashing. Cyan twisted his throttle as far as it would go, and heard Jonquil yelp when the quad jerked forward, her arms tightening around his stomach.
With Ruby at the fore and Teal racing beside Cyan, the three quads zoomed through the space between the stone piers’ tips. They bounced and hurtled across the dunes, their engines buzzing in ear-piercing unison, but Cyan could still hear the hovercraft gaining on them, like a sandstorm on their tails.
He felt it before he saw it – a deep, humming throb that charged and rippled the air. Jonquil squealed when the hovercraft’s black air-cushion drew up beside them.
The squall of turbines and propellers filled Cyan’s ears. Sand hissed against his goggles while he peered sidelong to watch the hovercraft match the quads’ pace. He could see several shipping containers on the loading area along its centre, and two pilots in its raised orange cockpit, who waved through busy windscreen wipers before the hovercraft sped away, in
creasing its distance from the quads.
The noise died down, giving way to Ruby’s whooping. Cyan grinned at her, then noticed faint noises from Jonquil, who was pushing her face into his back.
“You okay?” he asked.
She lifted her face and he could hear that she was laughing. “Yeah! That was…was…”
“I know, right?” Cyan laughed too, then waved an arm at Ruby and Teal. At his signal, all three quads turned east. The sanctuary’s cove shrank behind them, and Cyan felt the ground steepening subtly. They were heading deeper into what used to be sea.
Jonquil was quiet for some time, until she leaned to Cyan’s ear. “I can’t believe this place. The sand – it’s everywhere.”
“Yup.”
“And we just went past some… I think they were…whale bones?”
Whale bones…
Cyan peered over his shoulder at the curving ribs, and found himself thinking inexplicably of colours. Not just any colours, though. Two in particular – as random as they were vivid. Red and green. Green and red.
Something else came to mind. The letter S. And some numbers. Seven, two…seven, zero?
Cyan’s eyes narrowed behind his goggles. Where had these thoughts come from? And why were they triggered by the whale bones? They had nothing to do with them. Or with anything else, for that matter. The bones were boring. A quiet spot for reading, nothing more.
Maybe that was it. Maybe he’d read some books there – books that mentioned those colours and numbers.
It was strange, though. He felt like there was something more. Something fuzzy and vague, niggling at the fringes of his memory. Something that had been bothering him…
Cyan scrunched his eyes shut briefly, trying to figure out what he was trying to remember. But all that came was a blank, flashing whiteness.
The quad hit a bump and he opened his eyes. He heard Jonquil speak.
“Is that what they are, then? Actual whale bones?”
Cyan nodded. “Yeah. There’s a few about.”
“And those too?” Jonquil pointed ahead at a corroded ship, which looked like it had ploughed headfirst into a dune.
“Plenty.”
Jonquil stared at the sandscape. “So it’s true, then. The sea isn’t coming back.”
“Looks that way.”
Jonquil fell silent. She wiped her goggles before she spoke again. “It’s so salty here. I can taste it in the air.”
Cyan looked up to see swirls of thinning cloud. “You get used to it. And the salt has its perks.”
“Perks?”
“Just wait.”
They continued to ride, following the grooves between dunes and dodging tracts of beach grass.
Cyan looked up again. “Here it comes.”
Clouds gave way to sunbeams. Bleached bones and rusty hulls began to glitter. Cyan heard a small gasp.
Ruby glanced backwards and must have noticed Jonquil’s expression. She slowed to pull closer and shouted across the air. “It’s called salt-sparkle!”
Jonquil nodded. She pointed at a towering bluff of rock towards the east. “Why are there, like, hills here? Didn’t this used to be sea?” Horizontal grooves lined the bluff‘s yellow stone, which glimmered with salt in the brightening light.
“Not hills; they used to be islands! Good caves in that one – awesome view from the top! We’ll take you some time, but today’s all about the Serenity.”
“What is the Serenity?”
Ruby pointed ahead. Something colossal and white was jutting from the ground, like a vast column aimed at the sun. Cyan glanced backwards and laughed at Jonquil’s dropping chin.
As they drew nearer, the immense size of the Serenity’s tilted hull hit home. Cyan had seen it many times, but couldn’t help the appreciative whistle that trilled between his teeth.
He turned to look at Jonquil, who was taking in the sight of the giant cruise ship. Its rear protruded at an angle from a deep chasm of rock, and its long belly was red with rust, with its steel crumpled and torn where it met the chasm’s edge.
“That,” he said, “is the Serenity.” He pointed at the cruise ship’s full name – Regal Serenity – written in faded blue on the hull’s side.
The three quads pulled up by the brink of the rift. After removing their goggles and shaking sand from their hair, the four residents stared deep into the shadows. Far below, the Serenity’s nose sat crushed against the chasm’s base.
Cyan saw Jonquil’s next question coming, so he waved a hand at the sandy abyss. “Used to be a deeper patch of sea.”
Ruby clambered down the chasm’s lip. “Come on, then. Let’s get in.”
Jonquil gaped at her. “Get in?”
Teal touched her elbow. He pointed at a wide gash in the keel, a little way down the chasm’s slope.
Jonquil began to wring her hands. “Oh.”
They were soon on the ship and heading up three decks of engine rooms, past long runs of generators, pistons, pipes and flaking machinery. When they emerged from the lower decks, the dank stench of rust left Cyan’s nostrils. In its place hung the must of rotting cabins.
They were trekking through a mildewed, carpeted corridor when a door number caught his eye: 7284.
With the others still walking, Cyan paused and studied the brass numbers. He thought back to what had come to him on the quad.
S-7270
Could the S stand for Serenity?
Teal, Ruby and Jonquil were further up the corridor’s slope. Jonquil asked something. Cyan could just make out Ruby’s reply.
“…never found anyone. I guess the passengers all got rescued before the ship went down. Cyan pretended to be a body on the toilet once, though. Really freaked Teal out.”
A scoff from Teal. “So what? I got him back.”
Ruby hooted, tapping Jonquil’s arm. “Yeah, he jumped out from a wardrobe in one of the cabins. Cyan thought it was a zombie attack or something.”
“Almost needed a change of trousers,” snorted Teal. He forced a strained laugh and rubbed his neck. “That mouldy wardrobe gave me a mean rash, though.”
Cyan smiled to himself. Another of Teal’s imaginary rashes.
Backtracking down the corridor, he counted the doors and stopped when he reached his destination.
Cabin 7270.
The door was open. Cyan entered.
It was one of the Serenity’s more luxurious cabins. A wide plump bed was banked against the wall, its mattress as mouldy as the drapes that hung askew by the window. A widescreen TV dangled from a bracket on the wall, and the once-lavish furnishings were splintered and rotten, mildewed and bloated.
Cyan gazed at the chasm’s distant wall, which he could see through the cabin’s speckled window. And then, after pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, he began to search the wardrobes and drawers for anything unusual.
He found just mounds of fuzz that used to be clothes. Gowns and dresses speckled black, white and green. Phone chargers, tarnished jewellery and rotten high heels.
He moved quickly on to the bedside tables. The first one was empty. The second one was empty too, except…
Except it wasn’t. Not quite. Something had been scratched into the drawer’s wooden base. Lines of tiny writing, careful and deep.
Cyan read the first line – between green and red – and his hand went to his chest.
Green and red; the colours that had come to him on the quad, when he’d looked at the whale bones. Just like the numbers that had brought him to this cabin: 7270.
Faint memories were beginning to stir.
Taking a deep breath, Cyan got to his knees and read on:
Me: Ruth McMurphy
Mum: Helen McMurphy, blonde pixie hair, blue-grey eyes, best cuddles ever, smells like fresh soil in the garden, sings quietly in the bath
Dad: James McMurphy, bald shiny head, nerdy glasses, tickly black beard, brown eyes, Santa belly laugh, terrible jokes, smells like baking
Brother: Ben McMurphy, scou
ndrel, long blond curls, massive blue eyes, cute nose, noisy and lovely and smells like malty milk
Home: Nottingham in England, by the horse field in Bestwood
Best to deceive the memory thieves
Fight don’t forget, hold on or it’s gone
Cyan’s mouth was dry. His stirring memories settled, sharpened into shape by those final lines.
It all came back to him. He’d seen words like these before. Carved into a whale’s rib.
best to deceive the memory thieves
between green and red, fight don’t forget
But why had he forgotten? Why couldn’t he remember on the quad?
Cyan cast his mind back to before he’d hit the dunes with Jonquil and the others. He remembered rushing his breakfast, heading through the foyer. Then being called to Dr Haven’s office, sitting on the strobe chair…
That was it. It was the only explanation. Dr Haven had weakened Cyan’s memory of what he’d found on the bones – a memory that must have lingered somewhere at the back of his mind, faint and fading but still there. Still there enough, at least, to be roused by the message in this drawer and the numbers that had led him here: colours and numbers he hadn’t mentioned to the doctor.
Cyan bit his lip. Dr Haven had broken the sanctuary’s ethical code; he’d tampered with recent memories. And on top of that he’d lied. He’d told Cyan the strobe session had nothing to do with the whale bones – that its timing was pure chance.
memory thieves
Dr Haven said the bone words were nonsense. But if they were nonsense, why go to the trouble of erasing them? And hadn’t the doctor thieved after all?
Cyan peered again into the drawer. He felt his palms growing hot while he reread the words.
What was all this? Why the bone code and this hidden note? It seemed that someone – this Ruth McMurphy – was secretly trying to keep memories of her old life. But that was another thing that confused him. Why would anyone want to keep their old memories? People came to the sanctuary to forget; to escape whatever terrible things had happened to them. Cyan had played the clip on his locket enough times – had seen himself cry and beg for help – to know that much was true.
Cyan’s hands were shaking. But not from the fact that Dr Haven had lied to him. It was something else. Something he still couldn’t put his finger on, but which made his stomach cramp and squirm.
The Memory Thieves Page 5