Strange Reflections

by Jay Mason

  So sorry. Need help. Can I come round?

  Sure. Sup?

  Need help sticking on a stitch?

  Huh?

  Got cut. Riot at school.

  U OK?

  U missed cheerleaders ripping off each other’s clothes

  Shame. U OK?

  Be fine. See you in 10.

  ****

  Rusty’s face was a mask of concern when he opened the door to her.

  “I just need help getting this stitch straight,” said Alex as she stepped over the threshold. “I won’t hang around.”

  “The hell you won’t,” said Rusty. “I want to know what’s going on. Besides, you need sweet tea.”

  “I’m not in shock.”

  “Well you should be. Sit down and let me have a look at that.” With surprising deftness he removed the stitches she had used and reset the new ones she handed him.

  “You’re good at that,” said Alex.

  “Did volunteer work for a while,” said Rusty. “When I was thinking of being a doctor.”

  “How’s your mum?”

  “Asleep. She’s fine.”

  “I’m so sorry about yesterday. Crashing in like that.”

  Rusty shrugged. “I think in a weird way Mum kinda enjoyed it. Her work used to be pretty high-powered stuff. I think she misses the danger. You were a welcome break from the usual monotony. Now tell me what happened.”

  Alex related what she had seen at school. “I didn’t get much of a view,” she finished.

  “I’d love to see how they write that one up,” said Rusty.

  “Write it up?”

  “There’s an incident book. Some kind of health and safety thing. Everything gets recorded so the school doesn’t get sued.”

  “Then we should definitely see what it says.”

  “How are we going to do that?” asked Rusty. “They’re hardly likely to put it on display.”

  “I still have the keys Tiffany got from the guards. Besides, even without them I could break in with my eyes closed.”

  “Okay,” said Rusty. “We’ll go tonight. Can you stay over? What will you tell your parents?”

  “No problem,” lied Alex. “They’re both away for a while. Romantic getaway.”

  “Ah, right. I’m glad Mum read the situation right. Must be a weight off your mind.”

  “Yeah,” said Alex. “What time shall we head out tonight? It’s the dark of the moon, so that should help.”

  “Trust you to know that,” said Rusty. “Come through to the kitchen. I’m going to make you tea. That’s what the English drink when times get tough, isn’t it?”

  “That or whisky,” said Alex. She laughed at Rusty’s face. “Tea is fine. Can I use your computer to send C0numdrum a message?”

  “You think the Centre might be involved in all this?”

  “Who knows,” said Alex. “I’d like to rule it out though.”

  “How?”

  “I thought I’d ask him if there had been any new projects that started up in the last couple of days. I mean big things.”

  “Something that might leak through to the local area, you mean?” said Rusty. “I thought Straker was too clever for that.”

  “Accidents happen,” said Alex. “But it’s probably nothing. Only a few people have behaved oddly.”

  “And they’ve all been cheerleaders,” said Rusty. “Oh, and your mum.”

  “Who are all odd anyway,” finished Alex for him.

  “Use the machine in the dining room,” said Rusty. “I’ll bring the tea through.”

  ****

  By the time the rest of the Gibson household was in bed and asleep, C0numdrum had still not replied.

  “He’s never reliable,” said Alex.

  “So we go anyway?”

  Alex nodded. “If we get there and there are crowds of wandering zombies then we turn back.”

  “Obviously,” said Rusty, pulling on a black sweater over his tee-shirt. He gave her a second look. “You are kidding, right?”

  “Course,” said Alex. “If they’d all turned into zombies they’d be flooding through the town looking for brains by now.”

  Rusty closed the front door silently behind them. “Do you believe in zombies?” he said.

  “The pentagon has an action plan in case of zombie invasion,” said Alex.

  “Really?”

  Alex unlocked the door. “Yeah, but it’s a joke. Or at least I think it is.”

  ****

  They parked a half-mile away from the school so no one would see the approaching headlights. “It’s cold,” complained Rusty.

  “Then we jog,” said Alex.

  “Seriously?”

  “You used to do track.”

  “‘Used to’ being the operative phrase,” said Rusty.

  “You need to be fit to be a paranormal investigator,” said Alex.

  “I’m on equal status now, am I?”

  “Sssh.” Alex checked her watch. She pulled Rusty over to the school’s tree line. “The guard comes past here about now. Give or take ten minutes. So you’ve got a chance to get your breath back. Once he’s past we can get over to the side door. The camera swipes past ever two minutes. I’ll gauge the timing. You move when I move and you stop when I do.”

  Rusty mock-saluted her.

  Both of them were shaking with cold by the time the guard came past. He swung a large torch from side to side as he walked. Alex drew Rusty back. The guard had a huge stomach and swayed from side to side as he walked. In his other hand he held a sandwich that he periodically took a bite from. A night stick hung by his side. As he passed close by them Alex scrutinised him. She put her hand over Rusty’s mouth to muffle the sound of his teeth chattering. Slowly, in a painfully ambling manner, the guard moved on.

  When Alex was sure he was out of earshot, she removed her hand and stood up.

  “Good grief,” whispered Rusty. “He was more like a giant duck than a guard. Even I could outrun him.”

  “He had a taser on his belt,” said Alex. “And I’m betting he’d be quick to use it rather than pursue anyone. Right. It’s this way.”

  Rusty behaved perfectly and in a few short minutes they were in the school and heading towards the office. Alex pulled out a pair of small LED torches and handed one to Rusty. “If you need to use it, keep it low. We don’t want to light up the windows.”

  “Bit freaky, isn’t it?” said Rusty, glancing around at the shadows. “Like there’s been an apocalypse or something. Place is normally so loud.”

  “Or could be everyone else is asleep,” said Alex tersely.

  They reached the office without incident. Rusty reached out a gloved hand to try the door. “Damn,” he said, “it’s locked.”

  “I thought it would be.” Alex passed him her rucksack. “Here hold this a minute.” She opened the side and took out a small folded pouch. Then she put her torch between her teeth, opened the pouch and laid it on the ground. She took two fine levers and inserted them into the lock.

  “You can’t do that,” said Rusty. “That’s breaking and entering.”

  Alex gave him a filthy look and continued. He crouched down beside her.

  “What if someone comes?” said Rusty.

  Alex ignored him. The lever caught, but then slipped. She muttered through the torch and tried again. This time the lever broke. Alex carefully gathered up the pieces and put them in the pouch. She heard Rusty sigh and stand up. Alex took out another lever and tried again. This time there was a satisfying click. She put the levers back in the pouch and tucked it in her back pocket. Then she opened the door. She held her torch low. “See, easy,” she said. “Nothing in this school has been updated for decades.”

  Rusty went straight over to a drawer. “It’s in here,” he said. He tried it. “And it’s locked too.”

  Alex came over and inspected the lock. “You sure? It’ll be hard not to leave scratch marks on this one.”

  “I had a bit of an incident once,” sa
id Rusty. “Back in freshman year.”

  “Are you blushing?” said Alex.

  “It’s dark,” said Rusty. “You can’t see that.”

  “You are,” said Alex and crouched down to examine the lock more closely. “This is going to take some time,” she said. “Go over to the door and look out for any guards. They’re meant to make a sweep of the building every two hours, but they rarely bother.”

  “Shit,” said Rusty.

  “It would be a waste to leave now,” said Alex. “So close …”

  “Yeah, okay,” said Rusty and did his best to slink up to the door and meld with the door jam. Alex turned her attention back to the lock and began to work very, very carefully. “Lock-picking,” Alex whispered to Rusty, “isn’t as easy as it looks. This way only works on older locks with tumblers. You have to ease them out one by one. It needs steady hands and constant pressure. I have to make sure I don’t leave scratches on the outside of the lock either. Nowadays everyone’s seen or read crime stories and know exactly what those marks mean. Rats,” she sat back on her heels. “I must be more tense than I thought. Dropped it. Have to start again.”

  Rusty tapped her on the shoulder. “Or we could use the key,” he said, passing one to her. Alex still crouching, turned on her heel. The beam from the torch she held between her teeth hit him full in the face. Rusty put up a hand to shield his eyes. “Hey, I thought you were enjoying yourself.”

  Alex removed the torch from her mouth. “All this time you had a key?”

  “Mrs Knightly keeps a spare taped under her desk.”

  “Well, that’s secure,” growled Alex taking the key and inserting it into the lock.

  Alex muttered under her breath. Rusty diplomatically didn’t say anything. Alex took the book out and opened it on an empty stretch of the desk.

  “Let’s start a couple of months ago and work forward,” said Alex.

  Under each day, Mrs Knightly had drawn a line. Misdemeanours were written up as cryptic notes — S.F. A.M hall window broken. Acc. M. Hibby Sci.M Broken sink.

  “So if she thinks it’s an accident,” said Rusty, “she puts down their major — arts, science, but only puts in initials.”

  “And if she thinks it was deliberate she puts their full name down for the disgrace to be seen by all,” said Alex.

  “And if they don’t know,” said Rusty, tracing his finger down the page, “she puts anon.”

  “Lots of days when nothing happens at all,” said Alex, turning the pages. “There’s like six days on a page.”

  But when they got to the current week everything changed. “Woah,” said Rusty. “Two pages for a single day.”

  “The cheerleading incident makes interesting reading,” said Alex. “Apparently Cheryl Montrose — Mrs Knightly must dislike her, full name — was warned over pulling the padding out of A.K’s bra in front of the rest of the team.”

  “That’s the first one,” said Rusty. “The one I carried Savannah out of. Who knew Anna used padding?”

  Alex threw him a look of disgust.

  “I pride myself on being observant,” said Rusty.

  “Sure. Course you do.”

  Rusty gave a slight embarrassed cough. “How many incidents are there now?”

  “Several pages per day,” said Alex, flicking through the book. “And most of them are anon.”

  “There’s definitely something going on,” said Rusty.

  Alex took her phone out of her pocket and started snapping. “We can look at the data more closely when we’re out of here,” she said. “I can’t see any patterns yet.”

  She locked the book back in the cabinet. “You check we haven’t moved anything since you’re so observant.”

  Rusty put the key back. “No sign of the guard,” he said, looking up and down.

  “Probably making himself another sandwich in the canteen,” said Alex. “Let’s go.”

  This time they reached her car without incident.

  “Let’s see,” said Rusty reaching out for the phone once they were safely inside.

  Alex handed it over.

  “Might be something else we want to check while we’re here,” he said. He forwarded through the images on the screen at the back of the camera. “Lots of minor vandalism. And spates of arguments. Not proper fights. More ‘causing a disturbance’, ‘blocking a corridor’ or ‘food fight’ sort of thing.

  “How childish,” said Alex. “Let me see.” She looked through, “Broken sinks, chemistry instruments smashed — I often feel like doing that — and mirrors. Lots of mirrors broken.”

  “Easiest thing to vandalise,” said Rusty. “And one of the most difficult for the school. They often have to replace the tiling around them when they put a new one in.”

  “So you’re saying it’s a common way for people to register their displeasure?”

  “Yeah, and no risk of getting cut. Unlike with chemistry vials.”

  “Hmm,” said Alex. Something tugged at the back of her mind, but she couldn’t quite remember what it was.

  “I’ll drop you at home,” she said.

  ****

  As she drove up the lane, Alex could see no lights on at her house. At least no one noticed I’d gone, she thought. Inside, she found a discarded pack of instant noodles on the kitchen table. So her father had come back and, it seemed, without her mother. Not that she could have cooked anything better, but she always tidied up.

  Alex went upstairs and checked her computer. There was a message from C0numdrum. She read it and immediately opened a search engine window and started researching. Half an hour later she sent Rusty a text.

  When can U come round 2morrow? We need 2 talk. C messaged.

  She still hadn’t received a reply by the time she fell asleep.

  ****

  Rusty turned up around teatime looking hopeful. “Mum’s asleep and Cat’s out late at track practice. I wondered …” he trailed off.

  “You look like a hungry stray,” said Alex with a smile. “Come in. There’s no sign of my parents, but I’m sure I can do us eggs and beans or something.”

  “Sounds great,” said Rusty. “So what was it you so urgently needed to talk about?”

  Alex led him through to the kitchen and began to gather pans and ingredients.

  Rusty sat down at the kitchen table. “So?” he persisted.

  “C0numdrum emailed me late last night. He said the only new project he knew of was MK-THETA. It’s listed as one designed to help mentally disturbed minors.”

  Rusty frowned. “I think I’ve heard of it,” he said.

  Alex added bacon to the frying pan. The fat hissed and the smell spread across the room. “No, I don’t think you have,” said Alex.

  “That smells great,” said Rusty. “Remember you said beans too. And, er, I wondered — do you have any sausages?”

  Alex went to the cupboard to get the beans. “I thought I’d heard it too, so I went online to check it out. There’s nothing listed anywhere about MK-THETA.”

  “You’d expect that, wouldn’t you?” said Rusty. “Of one of Straker’s projects.”

  Alex didn’t answer. While she cooked better than her mother, she found it required some concentration to get everything ready at the same time. Behind her she could hear Rusty playing on his phone.

  Alex loaded up two plates and brought them across to the table. “But it does sound familiar, doesn’t it? MK-THETA?”

  “Hmmpf,” said Rusty through his eggs.

  “That’s because there was a similarly named experiment called MK-ULTRA. Papers were released about it in 1977 under the freedom of information act.”

  “So what was it?” asked Rusty. “Do you have any mustard? These sausages are great.”

  Alex got up and fetched mustard. “It lives in this cupboard, remember? You can get it yourself, next time.”

  Rusty nodded, grinning. “I like thinking there’ll be more sausages in my future. So what was this ULTRA all about?”

  “An
experiment into mind control. Particularly, how to extract information from people. Run by the CIA. Although the rumour is that the NSA were also involved.”

  “For real?”

  “Uh-uh,” said Alex. “It’s closed down now, but there are documents online that prove it existed. Of course conspiracy theorists have ideas about it.”

  “More than it being mind control? That seems weird enough. How did they try to do it anyway?”

  “Sound,” said Alex. “Maybe also drugs.”

  “Woah. When was this?”

  “It was Cold War stuff. Started around 1950, officially sanctioned in 1953 and supposedly ended in in 1967. Although some people think it ended in the 1970s.”

  “Oh, the sixties,” said Rusty. “When people were taking LDS and stuff?”

  “LSD,” said Alex. “Yeah, but the thing is there’s a lot of chatter on the net about it being reverse engineered UFO technology, which is why they could never get it to work properly.”

  “They had a UFO to work from?” said Rusty. “Like Area 51 and Roswell and all that?” Alex blinked. “What? Just because I don’t believe in this stuff doesn’t mean I haven’t heard the myths.”

  “Let’s suppose,” said Alex, “that somehow MK-THETA is connected to the MK-ULTRA. Like someone is trying to use the ideas to help people with depression. Particularly kids with mental health issues — like that,” she swallowed, “or schizophrenia.”

  “What are you saying, Alex?” Rusty shifted his attention from his plate. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  Alex looked away out the kitchen window. She could see the trunk of the tree she used to escape the house at night. She thought back to when she first met Rusty. She thought about how everything had been exciting — dangerous too, but challenging in a good kind of way. Now, it felt like everything was getting too close. Too personal.