We are Tam

by Patricia Bernard

  "We'll have to jump," she said. She let go of Tameron's arm and jumped. Tameron dared not look down at the distant platform. Tucking the cylinder safely inside her body-suit, she also threw herself across the gap. The escalator moaned and dipped dangerously.

  "Hurry up. Move faster. This isn't going to hold," Tam shouted as she crawled up the sloping stairs.

  The light grew stronger. Near the top the steps disappeared. Only the cable remained, connected to a higher platform.

  "We can reach the top if we use the cable like a monkey bar," said Tam.

  "What is a monkey bar?" asked Tameron, rubbing her sore arm.

  "Watch me. I'm going to swing along it."

  Tameron watched the hand prints appearing in the heavy dust on the cable. She felt the escalator swaying and lurching as Tam moved higher. Then the hand prints ended.

  "Made it! Your turn! I'll grab your feet as soon as you're close enough."

  Tameron knew that if she hesitated, she'd never be able to move. She clutched the cable and swung into the void. Her arm hurt badly. Hand over hand she pulled herself up, fumbling for a foothold.

  "Gotcha!" Tam grabbed her around the waist and together they collapsed onto firm ground. Ahead of them rose a flight of broken steps - the same steps that Tam and Steven had raced down hours before. With shaking legs they climbed towards daylight.

  At last, shielding their eyes against the afternoon sun, they looked at Oldcit.

  "Is this what it looks like?" gasped Tam in a shocked voice. She searched the broken skyline for anything familiar, but there was nothing. She was horrified at the destruction of her city.

  "This is ugly. Newcit is beautiful. I shall show you everything," Tameron answered.

  Tam walked over to the fallen obelisk. "This was put here in the year eighteen fifty-six. It has a sphinx at each corner, and ... ." her voice petered out sadly. She could feel Steven tugging at her, calling her back. "I can't stay any longer." She looked at Tameron's tired, dusty face. "Everything will be all right now you have the cylinder. Will you visit me again?"

  Tameron wished that she could see Tam, not just feel her presence and hear her. It felt strange talking to the air, especially when they were so close.

  "Of course I shall see you again when I learn to mirror-image on my own."

  They sat cross-legged in the dirt and clasped hands.

  "Ouch! My arm hurts," winced Tameron.

  "So does mine," answered Tam as if from a great distance.

  Suddenly there was no pressure on Tameron's hand as she sat alone among the ruins, her hair covered in dust and the silver mark rubbed from her forehead.

  She had the cylinder. Now she must use all her strength to get Tam back to the 20th century, but her arm ached, and she was so tired that it was hard to find the strength to concentrate.

  CHAPTER 15. SNOW-WHITE MOSQUITO LAND

  A soft cloud enveloped Tam as she sped through thousands of flimsy curtains that swayed as she passed. She could feel the combined force of Steven's pulling and Tameron's pushing, hurtling her through time. Ahead, a heavy curtain of white blocked her way. It engulfed her, cutting off the force. She was flung against it, over and over again. Suddenly it parted, ripping like a sail in the wind, and she fell through into a stark white world.

  The brilliant light reflecting from tall buildings made Tam blink. Everything was white. The obelisk, earth, trees, roads, people, all startling white. The glare hurt her eyes, making her squint. Covering her face with her hands, she peeked through her fingers.

  It was her city. Even the obelisk was whole again. She recognised everything, but it was like an overexposed photograph, with no colour, no movement and no sound. Buses, cars and people remained motionless, as if caught in a moment of time.

  "What's gone wrong? Why don't they move? Why isn't there any noise?' she cried in bewilderment.

  Tam looked down at herself. She was as white as everything else, her tartan skirt and blue sneakers, even the hair that fell over her eyes, all white, snow-white. Something jogged her memory, a line from a poem: "A shadowless, searing sight."

  That was it, Darwei's poem!

  I'm in the land of the Snow-white Mosquitoes, Tam thought. She tried to recall the rest of the poem, but couldn't think. Her thoughts kept slipping away. She closed her eyes against the painful light.

  "Do not do that. Do not close your eyes." She heard Tameron's faint message. "Move about. You will petrify if you do not."

  Tam tried moving her legs, but it was too much of an effort. Her feet stuck to the ground, and her arms hung stiff and useless. She was slowly turning to stone.

  Far over the horizon of the city, Tam thought that she saw movement. It was hard to tell, since everything was so white. Small specks appeared in the sky, accompanied by a monotonous humming. The sound grew louder as they came closer. Machines, helicopters, thought Tam with relief. That meant people, people who could help her. They covered the city sky, flying in strict formation as they swung over the white skyscrapers.

  What if they didn't see her? What if they thought that she was one of the many statue-like people who stood around her? Tam forced her head back, ready to shout for help, then stopped, shocked. They were not helicopters! The deep throb came from the beating wings of hundreds of gigantic snow-white mosquitoes. They hovered over her, their huge bulbous eyes reflecting the distorted buildings of the dead city.

  Slowly one giant insect unfolded its six legs and descended, delicately landing in front of Tam. The other snow-white mosquitoes followed, crushing the statue people beneath them. Their wings beating the air like huge fans, almost deafening her.

  Their furry antennae waved as they edged closer, their wings never still. She remembered how ordinary mosquitoes stung. They punctured the skin with their sharp probe mouths and sucked up the blood. The mosquitoes surrounded her, prodding with their probes, searching for life, for movement. She dared not blink,and yet if she remained still she would turn to stone.

  Tameron scrambled to her feet and, holding the cylinder close, sped away from the ruins. Without checking, she clambered over the wall and, across the grass border and through the Garden of Learned Thought. People frowned as she ran past, because the garden was for quiet thought and discussion. She disturbed their study-daze and created air-tension currents.

  "Older-parent! Older-parent!" Tameron shouted as she raced through the home-dome garden. "Older-parent! Where are you?" She burst into each chamber, searching for him.

  Older-parent lay on his glass couch, watching a vision-book. He tried to ignore her shouts, to block out the noise by concentrating harder, but it was useless. If he didn't open his door, she would batter it down.

  "Tameron, you are becoming uncontrollable."

  "Older-parent!" she flung herself at him. "Older-parent, something terrible has happened. Tam is caught in Snow-white Mosquito Land. She is surrounded by mosquitoes. Her brother and I have tried, but we cannot move her. Please help her, Older-parent. Please?"

  The old man froze with shock. He could feel violent life-colour swirling through the dome. He didn't need to look at his suit to know that it was changing to the crimson colour of his youth. He exploded angrily.

  "You promised! You promised me!"

  "I did not break my promise. I went during sunning. I had to. I had to find the cylinder. Darwei told me that the clue is there." She held it out to him.

  Older-parent flung it to the floor, his eyes boring into her. Tameron hardly recognised him as she cowered against the wall.

  "Help her, please," she begged. "She is petrifying."

  Older-parent saw the heavy dust on her hair and the scratches on her body-suit.

  "What terrible thing have you done? Tell me!" he demanded.

  Tameron's words tripped over each other as she tearfully told him everything. Older-parent was furious.

  "Do you understand what you have done? You have endangered yourself and this child of the past. She could be stranded for ever. Nothing exis
ts there. Nothing lives, except the snow-white mosquitoes."

  "I know. I know," Tameron sobbed.

  "And the other younger, the boy, he could remain in a trance, becoming weaker and weaker until he dies."

  "Help them please, Older-parent. You can. I know you can!"

  He turned away, rejecting her, rejecting the turmoil she caused.

  "Younger, Younger, you exhaust me with your demands," he cried. His shoulders sagged wearily.

  But the bright colour of his study-chamber walls reminded him of his younger days. He too had been foolish, teaching Darwei to mirror-image. That had been his first mistake. Helping Tameron to mirror-image had been his second. Now he alone was responsible for all that had followed. Sighing, he turned around and quickly led Tameron from his study-chamber.

  "There is only one way. We must go to the obelisk. It holds the energy and strength we need."

  As they hurried towards the garden-dome, Older-parent explained briefly.

  "The knowledge of the obelisk is for older-persons only. Not even Darwei knows about it. It is not for his decade living-group."

  They came to the centre of the garden dome, where the tall blue stone obelisk stood, its long shadow pointing towards Newcit. Older-parent pointed to the shadow.

  "Sit here, and place your hands and forehead against the stone like this." He sat cross-legged on the opposite side of the obelisk, with the palms of his hands and his white head pressed against it. "Sing to your friend, and push with all your might against the stone. I shall use my age power. But remember, this is forbidden. No good will come of it."

  Tameron thought of Darwei. She hadn't even checked his rest-chamber.

  "You are not singing."

  "I shall," said Tameron hastily, and pushed against the blue stone obelisk. "Tam, Tam, move your legs. Move your arms, Tam," she sang. A shock of power ran through her, joining her to the stone and to Older-parent.

  Tam felt something shake her, almost like two hands pushing at her back, willing her to move forward. She tried, but her legs seemed to be solid rock.

  "Think of Steven," Tameron sang.

  It was difficult, because she felt as if a white woolly blanket lay over her mind. She heard Steven's faltering voice calling also.

  "Tam, where are you? I can't keep this up. Someone is shaking me. Come back!"

  She opened her eyes and saw the waiting mosquitoes inching forward.

  "Think of your home-dome and your waiting parent! Think and go," chimed in a deeper voice.

  Tam didn't recognise this voice, but its strength released her limbs. With a last glimpse of the gigantic insects as they descended on her, she felt herself tearing through the heavy white curtain.

  Older-parent and Tameron slumped against the obelisk. Their arm muscles were aching, their heads throbbing. Slowly Older-parent lifted his head. His eyes were sunken and dark.

  "It is done. She is released."

  He staggered to his feet and passed Tameron without seeing her. His back was hunched, and his feet dragged. He looked a decade older. Tameron followed, trying to think of something to say. Older-parent entered his study-chamber and closed the door, locking her out. She felt rejected and alone.

  Tiptoeing through the home-dome, she checked on Darwei's body. His life-colour was so pale it was almost no colour at all.

  Laying her head beside his, she whispered to the still face. "I have failed, Darwei. I cannot help you. Older-parent refuses to speak to me. He will send me back to Centrom. I know it. He thinks I'm troublesome." She massaged her aching arms." And I think he is sick. He looks so old. What am I to do, Darwie?"

  "They've been like that for hours," the railway official told the policeman. "I've tried shaking them, but they don't move, not even a flicker. I thought they were having me on, but they've been like this all afternoon." His voice rose with anxiety.

  The policeman tried to unclasp the children's hands.

  "Here, cut it out you two. You can't stay here," he shouted, shaking their shoulders.

  Tam's eyes blinked open. She stared at the policeman and the railway official.

  "Oohh! My arm hurts."

  "I'm not surprised," remarked the official dryly.

  "What have you been up to?" asked the policeman.

  "Been here all afternoon," said the railway official.

  Steven had woken also. He slowly lowered his arms and unfolded his legs. Tam stretched, smoothed down her skirt, then sat properly on the bench, rubbing her sore arm

  "Don't play dumb with me now," the policeman snapped.

  "We didn't mean to annoy anyone, did we, Steve?" Tam said apologetically, nudging him.

  "No, we just got carried away. Yoga is very relaxing."

  "Mmmmmm. Well, you'd best be off home. But if I hear of you playing this little stunt again, I'll be visiting your parents," he warned sternly.

  "Here comes a train now," said the official, pointing up the track. "I'll be glad to see the back of you."

  The men looked after the train with puzzled faces as it disappeared into the tunnel. Who could understand kids nowadays?

  Tam could feel Steven watching her. She stared at their reflections in the windows opposite while the train sped through the darkness. She thought of the hundreds of blind cats out there in the future and squadrons of gigantic mosquitoes, hovering waiting.

  "Well, what happened? Where were you all afternoon?"

  "I'll tell you when we get out of the tunnel."

  CHAPTER 16. THE CLUE

  After the excitement of the weekend, Monday was long and boring. Tam and Steven both found their minds wandering and couldn't finish classes fast enough.

  Steven had to run to catch up with Tam after school. She looked tired and bad-tempered and wasn't waiting at the corner as usual.

  "Hey! Aren't you waiting for me?" he called.

  Tam kept walking, her face sullen.

  "Where's Shona?" he asked.

  "Playing softball."

  "Did you tell her anything?"

  "No, of course not."

  Tam walked faster. Steven didn't seem to notice her bad mood.

  "Tell me more about the snow-white mosquitoes and those cats. What about them!" he asked excitedly.

  Tam frowned at him. "I've told you a hundred times already." "Can't you remember the poem?" he insisted.

  "No, I can't, and if you ask me again I'll scream." She turned in at the gate and slammed it before he could follow.

  Pat Woodward looked up from her ironing as Tam flounced into the kitchen, moaning that Steven was a pain.

  "You don't look very happy," she said.

  "Oh Mum, I don't know what's wrong with me. I feel awful, and there's no reason." She hugged her mother and hid her face against her.

  Pat stroked her hair.

  "Just tired, I expect. I hardly saw you all weekend. How about an early night?"

  Tam nodded. She felt miserable and knew that she'd been mean to Steven, especially after all his help in rescuing Tameron and releasing her from the terrible snow-white mosquito place.

  "Shall I throw my hat in first, Mum?" Steven called, peeping round the doorway.

  "And what does that mean, smarty?" his mother answered.

  "Just that if Tam is going to shoot anything, it had better be my hat." He threw in an old straw hat his mother used for gardening. It skidded across the floor.

  Tam's face turned red, then she giggled.

  "Oh Steven, I'm so..."

  "Okay. I guess I was being a pain."

  "Well, wonders will never cease! He admits it!" laughed their mother.

  That night, Tam slept so deeply that nothing could wake her. Steven went in a few times, but she didn't stir, even when he shook the end of her bed and coughed loudly.

  Inside his study-chamber Older-parent lay on his glass couch,willing himself to relax. His head ached, his stomach churned, and he felt weak. He wanted to comerise, but tranquility would not come. He had broken the law and used the obelisk power to he
lp someone who wasn't supposed to exist--someone from the past which did not exist.

  'NOW is NOW and forever will be NOW," he chanted.

  He tried raising his head. The glass walls of the dome filled with swirling colour. His body-suit turned a deep purple and his head swam with pain. He saw the cylinder lying discarded on the floor.

  He stretched out, picked it up and twisted the air tight top. The contents fell onto the glass couch beside him - money, photographs, film, video-tapes, maps, newspapers, books. At first he recoiled from the forbidden papers, remembering that Darwei had been expelled by the Elders for far less. Then slowly, carefully, he examined each article. He touched a roll of thin paper, unrolled it and read the ancient writing: 'The Lord Mayor thanks Professor Darwin Taylor ... .'

  Older-patent dropped the paper as if it were hot and raising his voiced, called for Tameron. She was rubbing Darwei's arms, trying to halt the growing transparency, when she heard Older-parent's shout. Running to his study-chamber, she found the door still locked.

  "I am here, Older-parent. What is wrong?" she called.

  His voice sounded weak and ill.

  "I have opened the cylinder. The clue is not the contents. It is the Professor."

  She pressed against the door.

  "Tell me more, Older-parent."

  "I am sick. I should not have touched the forbidden objects," he said faintly. A heavy feeling of nausea overcame him, and he comarised suddenly, scattering the contents of the cylinder to the floor.

  Tameron shouted and shouted through the door but it was useless. Older-parent did not answer her. Slowly she returned to Darwei. She tried to contact the 20th century, but Tam wasn't responding either. Dejected, she lay down on the metal floor and slept.

  When she awoke at first sunning, she remembered Older-parent's words. She must contact Tam immediately.

  Next morning, as the pale winter sun shone through her window, Tam awoke to the singing in her head. At first she thought that she was still dreaming, but then she realised that it was Tameron calling her. Bounding out of bed, she knocked on the wall.