The Phoenix

by Sidney Sheldon

  Two young men leaped to attention, one of them scurrying over with a plastic seat for Ella, depositing it on the ground without making eye contact before darting back to the safety of the group.

  ‘A cup of tea, perhaps?’ Professor Dixon asked solicitously.

  ‘Thank you,’ Ella smiled. ‘That would be nice.’

  It was impossible not to warm to this sweet, avuncular old man, especially as he appeared so enamored with her. ‘Sorry,’ Ella blushed, as her stomach growled audibly. ‘I haven’t eaten since breakfast.’

  Clapping his hands imperiously in the direction of his junior lab partners, Professor Dixon demanded, ‘Tea and biscuits and cake, pronto! Honestly, I don’t know what’s wrong with these fools in operations,’ he said to Ella convivially. ‘I mean physical training’s all very well. But if I’ve told them once, I’ve told them a thousand times. An army can’t march on an empty stomach. Now then, Miss Ella Praeger. Where to begin? What, my dear, dear girl, can I do for you?’

  For the first time, Ella felt her cynicism about Camp Hope starting to thaw at the edges. If this man had chosen to devote his life and talents to The Group, they simply couldn’t be all bad.

  ‘You obviously know who I am, Professor Dixon,’ she began tentatively. ‘I mean, my name was familiar to you?’

  ‘Well of course it was. It is.’ The old man nodded seriously. ‘The Praeger name means something to all of us here, Ella. May I call you Ella?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he beamed. ‘And you must call me Dix, everybody does.’

  Ella nodded. ‘OK.’

  ‘All of us in The Group have been waiting for you for a long time, Ella. Scientifically speaking you’re … well, you’re unique.’

  Ella took a deep breath. ‘Professor—’

  ‘Dix,’ he corrected her.

  ‘Dix. Sorry. How much do you know about the procedures performed on my brain before I was born?’

  ‘Well now, let’s see.’ He smiled encouragingly, rubbing his hands together as if Ella were a DIY project he couldn’t wait to get his hands on. ‘I suppose I know as much as anybody knows who wasn’t actually there at the time. I’ve seen all your medical notes, and the notes relating to your mother’s pregnancy. I was also lucky enough to inherit the genetic neurology papers that your parents were working on during their time here. So I’d say I have a fairly decent insight into what they were trying to achieve. As for how successful they were – the scope and limits of your powers today – well, that none of us will know fully until we start working together. That’s why it’s so incredibly exciting that you’re—’

  ‘Can you help me get rid of the headaches?’ Ella interrupted him.

  Dix looked at her thoughtfully. It was telling, and sobering, that this was her first question. The poor girl must have suffered more than he’d realized.

  ‘I hope so,’ he answered seriously.

  ‘And what about … other things?’ Ella bit her lip anxiously. Dix waited for her to explain. ‘I’m not always very good with other people,’ she blushed. ‘Reading their emotions, or knowing what to say. I make mistakes.’

  ‘We all make mistakes,’ Dix said kindly. ‘I’m confident that together we can reduce some of your … uncertainty … in social situations.’ He was choosing his words carefully. ‘It can’t be easy, trying to interpret others, when you have a riot going on inside your own mind.’

  ‘It isn’t,’ said Ella, deeply grateful for the professor’s simple understanding.

  ‘Of course, changing the habits of a lifetime won’t happen overnight, any more than mastering your gifts will. You must be prepared to put in the work.’

  ‘Oh, I am,’ Ella insisted. ‘Believe me. I’ll do anything.’

  ‘Good.’ Dix smiled. ‘And I apologize for rabbiting on at you earlier. Letting my excitement run away with me, I’m afraid. We’ll be discovering an awful lot together in the coming days and weeks, Ella. But are there other questions that I can answer for you now?’

  Ella thought about it. There were so many questions, it was hard to know exactly where to begin.

  ‘Gabriel, the man who recruited me,’ she said at last. ‘He said that the voices I’ve been hearing in my head are electronic signals. Is that true?’

  ‘Well, it’s a bit of a broad-brush description,’ Dix muttered disapprovingly. ‘But yes. In layman’s terms, you could say that.’

  ‘And that I’m a sort of “receiver”? He said the headaches come because I haven’t learned how to unscramble all the data coming in?’

  Dix wrinkled his nose disdainfully. ‘I do wish these operations Johnnies would leave the scientific explanations to the scientists. It sounds as if “Gabriel” has given you half a picture at best.’

  ‘But about the headaches?’

  ‘About the headaches, yes, he’s correct. It’s true that once you gain mastery of the auditory side of your capabilities – once you learn how to tune into certain signals and out of others – your headaches should stop. Or at least vastly reduce.’

  Ella exhaled. If nothing else good came from this bizarre chapter of her life, putting a stop to the debilitating migraines would make everything worth it.

  ‘You said the “auditory side”,’ she noticed. ‘Is there another side to my … to the changes my parents made?’

  ‘Oh yes!’ Dix’s eyes widened. The uncontained enthusiasm was back. ‘Absolutely. We believe … we hope … that you have the capability to develop all sorts of visual data interpretation skills.’

  ‘I’m sorry?’ Ella looked baffled.

  ‘You already hear things,’ Dix explained. ‘But you ought to be able to see things too, things that other people can’t. And to store and interpret that information in unique ways. For example, I’m hoping to teach you how to use your eyes like cameras, to take and record a “mental picture” of what you observe.’

  ‘Like photographic memory, you mean?’ Ella asked, remembering the ease with which she’d been able to study for tests at school, retaining information at a glance.

  ‘A much, much more detailed version of it, yes. Only in your case, theoretically at least, we might be able to download stored images directly from your brain!’ The little man was practically hopping from foot to foot with excitement. ‘Imagine that? We’re not there yet, of course, but once we start working together, who knows? The sky’s the limit! And speaking of the sky …’

  Ella found herself willing him to take a breath.

  ‘Satellite technology has of course advanced very considerably since your parents edited your genes. I’m hopeful that you should eventually be able to receive and interpret all sorts of GPS data. And obviously the strategic applications of something like that are pretty much limitless. You could use satellite coordinates to navigate, for instance. To visualize vast areas of land or sea, or even space. Theaters of war.’

  I’m not going to war, thought Ella. I’m going to fix my headaches, learn more about my family, and go home. But at least coming from this kind, excitable old man, she didn’t resent the assumption. If anything she felt worried about how to let ‘Dix’ down gently.

  ‘Did you know my parents?’ she asked him, changing the subject.

  He took Ella’s smooth hand in his gnarled ones. ‘Only by reputation, I’m sorry to say. But I have the greatest respect for both of them. As scientists and as people. They were fearless.’

  ‘That’s probably why they’re dead,’ muttered Ella.

  Most people might have winced at the bitterness of such a blunt comment, but Dix seemed to find Ella’s perspective amusing. ‘Ha!’ he laughed loudly. ‘I daresay it might be! Well said, my dear! How refreshing you are.’

  Ella was pleased. Whatever else happened at Camp Hope, Dix was clearly going to be a kindred spirit. ‘Refreshing’ was not a word often used to describe her. Most people opted for ‘tactless’ at best and ‘outrageously rude’ at worst. Ella liked ‘refreshing’. She would have to tell Bob that one.

>   The professor’s colleagues returned bearing a tray of tea and food, and Ella suddenly realized how ravenous she was. Dix watched, delighted, as she inhaled three slices of specially imported Fortnum’s fruitcake, washing them down with a large mug of Twinings Earl Grey tea.

  ‘Now. No one’s told me how long you’re staying here,’ Dix told Ella, as she drained the dregs of her cup. ‘But for as long as you’re at Camp Hope, I’d like us to work together at least four days a week, if that’s all right with you. My mission is to have identified the full scope of your gifts and to have you mastering as many of them as possible before you leave. How does that sound?’

  ‘Fine,’ said Ella. ‘Good,’ she added, trying to echo at least a fraction of his own enthusiasm.

  ‘You don’t sound very convinced.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Ella sighed. ‘It’s just, to you, my brain is a “gift”. But to me, it’s always been more of a curse.’

  Dix looked at her intently. When he spoke it was with a kindness and empathy that almost made her cry.

  ‘I understand, Ella. You’ve suffered. But your brain – your unique, enhanced, incomparable brain – is a gift. It is. A potent, fascinating, wonderful gift, not just to you but to the entire world. To science!’ He grasped her hands again. ‘I hope, once you discover how to use it, you will begin to see it that way.’

  ‘I hope so too,’ said Ella sincerely.

  ‘And now, speaking of gifts,’ he said, clapping his hands together and grinning in an attempt to lighten the mood. ‘I have something for you. Follow me.’

  Ella trailed behind him as he walked slowly up some metal stairs to a raised platform that seemed to be his personal lab-space. Opening a drawer in his desk, Dix removed a small box. Grinning like a schoolboy, he pressed it into Ella’s hand.

  Ella turned the box over curiously. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Something I’ve been working on for the past two years,’ Dix said excitedly, ‘ever since Redmayne decided it was time to make contact with you. They’re a bit of a gimmick,’ he admitted, ‘but I hope they’ll be a useful tool to get you started, on the auditory side at least. That’s where you seem to be getting the strongest signals so far.’

  Redmayne. It was the second time in the last forty-eight hours that Ella had heard that name, but her questions receded in the face of the professor’s endearingly childlike joy. ‘Open it! Open it!’ Dix squawked, squirming with anticipation like a small child with a full bladder.

  The box slid open, like a packet of matches. Inside, nestled in a bed of Styrofoam were what looked like a pair of hearing aids.

  ‘Put them on,’ instructed Dix.

  Ella tried.

  ‘No, no, not like that. Inside the lobe. Here, let me.’ Gently he inserted the tiny devices into each of Ella’s ears. ‘Comfortable?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Good. Now, hang on a tick.’ Turning his back to Ella, Dix began tapping something into an iPad. Ella started and clutched her head as a wave of sound, voices and static and loud, tuneless beeps exploded inside her skull. Leaning over gingerly, Dix turned a small dial on each of her earpieces. As if by magic, the wave receded, and only two voices were audible, both as clear as day.

  ‘That’s incredible!’ said Ella.

  It was just how Gabriel’s voice had sounded last night when she’d tried to leave, and that evening at her hotel in Paradise Valley. It was as if all the other transmissions had been switched off, somehow, and only a single, crystal-clear channel remained.

  ‘How did you do that?’ she asked Dix.

  He put a finger to his lips, watching her eagerly. ‘Just listen.’

  Ella did. Both the voices she heard now were male. At first she wasn’t sure what they were talking about, but eventually a pattern emerged. Coordinates and wind speeds and … was it tides?

  She looked up at Dix. ‘The coast guard?’

  ‘Bingo!’ he clapped his hands excitedly. ‘Marvelous, marvelous. Very good, Ella. That’s exactly what we’d hoped for. Right, take them out.’

  Ella did as she was asked, handing over the hearing aids. ‘So, what are these? How do they work?’

  The old man grinned. ‘They’re very simple filters. Eventually, you’ll learn how to do this yourself, organically. There’s a technique I’ll teach you, similar to mindfulness if you’ve ever heard of that? It’s not complicated but it does require practice. Once you’ve got the knack, you’ll be able to turn down certain signals and turn up others, by yourself. But until you’ve mastered it, these will help. I must say, I’m delighted they seem to work so well!’ He beamed, clearly gratified with his handiwork.

  Ella sat silently for a moment, processing this information.

  ‘What would happen if you put these in your ears?’ she asked him.

  ‘Nothing,’ Dix confirmed. ‘I have nothing to filter. No data inputs. You, on the other hand, have rather more than you can handle. Hence your headaches.’

  ‘Can these switch the noise – data – off completely? Like a mute button?’

  ‘No. They’re not sophisticated enough for that. To mute the signals you’re receiving completely, at the moment we have to use an external firewall. We block all data at Camp Hope as a matter of course, for security reasons. When you heard the medley of sounds earlier, it was because I’d temporarily disabled the firewall to allow them to reach you. So we could run the test.’

  ‘So, I’ll always hear some voices? No matter what?’ Ella looked crestfallen.

  ‘I didn’t say that,’ Dix smiled. ‘These earpieces aren’t capable of shutting down your brain’s receiving capability. But you can do it. You can do it with visual stimuli as well. I’ll teach you how.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really,’ he said firmly. ‘Your brain is probably the most sophisticated machine I’ll ever have the privilege to work with, Ella. We don’t know everything about it yet. But we do know it can do incredible things.’

  Again, Ella took a moment to digest this before resuming her questions.

  ‘If someone else were to know how this thing in my brain works – like you do – would they be able to transmit to me directly? So they would come through louder, not just as background noise?’

  ‘Yes!’ Dix seemed delighted by the question. ‘That is exactly right. You have a primary neurological frequency that naturally overrides the secondary ones.’

  ‘And is that how Gabriel was able to speak to me last night?’

  Dix cocked his head to one side, confused. ‘I’m sorry. Did you say that Gabriel transmitted to you? Last night?’

  Ella nodded.

  ‘Here? At the camp?’

  ‘Yes. I mean, I was here,’ Ella confirmed. ‘I don’t know if he was. I was trying to leave, as it happened, but he sort of talked me round.’

  Dix looked utterly furious, his wrinkled face practically quivering with rage.

  ‘Talked you round, did he?’ he muttered. ‘Hmmm. That sounds about right. He’s good at that.’

  ‘Does that mean he was here? Physically?’ asked Ella. ‘Or close by, at least, to be able to transmit to me?’

  ‘Not necessarily,’ said Dix. ‘In general it’s true that the closer a transmission is, geographically, the louder you will “hear” it.’

  ‘Like being within Wi-Fi range?’

  ‘Sort of.’ He frowned. ‘I’ll explain more later, but the point is that in Gabriel’s case, that doesn’t necessarily hold true, because he has remote access to our systems here. It sounds to me like he disabled the firewall from wherever he was, so he could transmit to you directly behind my back. The little … so-and-so.’ The old man seemed to be talking to himself as much as to Ella, his whole being alive with indignation. ‘When I get my hands on that boy—’

  ‘He’s transmitted to me before,’ said Ella, stoking the flames of Dix’s fury. ‘The night before I came to camp. That’s how I knew how to get here. Where to find you.’

  ‘And where were you when this transmission hap
pened?’ asked the incredulous Dix.

  ‘In Paradise Valley,’ said Ella. ‘Where I grew up. It’s kind of out in the sticks. I never normally hear voices there, but I heard his. So, would he have been close by that time?’ She was still very confused by the mechanics of all this.

  ‘Probably,’ said Dix. ‘Although I suppose in theory he might have … if he’d somehow managed to hack into the …’ The professor’s grumblings were no longer audible, but from his expression Ella surmised that Gabriel was sinking ever further into his bad books.

  ‘I couldn’t talk back to him though,’ she told Dix.

  ‘No. You wouldn’t have been able to,’ he replied.

  ‘Because I can’t transmit, right? That’s what Gabriel said. I’m just a receiver.’

  The professor snorted. ‘I would strongly advise you to take everything Gabriel says to you with a large pinch of salt.’

  ‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ said Ella, amused. ‘So, can I transmit?’

  ‘Theoretically? Yes. You probably could. But there wouldn’t be much point.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because the other person wouldn’t be able to hear you. As far as we know, you are the only person in the world whose brain is capable of receiving data in this way. Your parents’ experiment has never been repeated. You are unique, Ella,’ he added, looking at her in genuine awe. ‘That’s why we need you. It’s why the world needs you.’

  Yes, but I don’t want to save the world! Ella thought. I want a normal life. I want to be normal. I never asked for any of this.

  ‘Together we will learn to make the most of your abilities,’ Dix went on, his kindly manner diffusing Ella’s frustration. ‘Starting with the auditory signals. The experiment we just did here was a start, but it was artificial. Because of the firewall, all frequencies inside the camp were blocked except for the coast guard, who use a simple radio transmission. Your friend Gabriel doubtless used something similar last night. So his voice, directed to your primary neuro-channel, was all you heard. But in the real world, there will of course be multiple, conflicting signals. Part of your training here will involve learning how to differentiate between them. To become your own tuning device, if you will.’