“Commit these to memory,” said Sir Bentley, as the children leafed through the pages. “You never know—this information may save somebody’s life.”
• CHAPTER SIXTEEN •
Friday, December 14
As London entered the coldest December on record and snow and gale-force winds caused havoc above ground, the children of Myers Holt picnicked daily under the blue skies and gentle heat of their man-made environment. Their lockdown had made little difference to the children, who ran free around the garden and swam in the warm waters of the pool at every opportunity they had.
Chris had never enjoyed school as much as he was enjoying his time at Myers Holt, and he didn’t let himself dwell on what would happen when the year was over—he felt confident that by then everything would be different. Occasionally his mind would also wander back to his old life, but it was a good feeling—although there had been only a few brief phone calls with his mother, he was sure that she would be doing better now that the bills were being taken care of. He felt relaxed and confident for the first time in his life, and even Ms. Lamb’s return—a bloody bandage wrapped tightly above a brand-new pair of identical turquoise boots—couldn’t dampen his happiness at finally finding himself in a place where he was worry-free and surrounded by a group of people that he could actually call friends. It was the first time in his life that he was able to say that, and in spite of all their differences, he couldn’t have wished for a better group to be a part of.
Daisy’s initial homesickness had disappeared, and although Rex still had the ability to reduce her to tears with one of his comments, Chris admired the way that she wouldn’t have a bad word said about him, or anybody else, for that matter. Sebastian’s English, although still stilted despite his vast vocabulary, had greatly improved, and he had become quite a fan of Shakespeare, quoting sonnets at the girls, which caused Daisy to blush furiously and Lexi to hit him round the head with a book. This was to the great amusement of Rex, who preferred to try to impress the girls by using his Ability to trip them up, levitate books out of their reach, and lock them in their bedroom when they were running late for classes. Yet, as annoying as Rex could be, he was also able to reduce them all to hysterical laughter with one of his uncannily accurate impressions of their teachers or—their favorite—of John and Ron: As Ron, Rex would jump out when they least expected it, doing ninja impressions, and as John, he would sing country songs about Fifi the poodle and pretend to cry. It was for this ability to keep them all smiling that they had developed a soft spot for him—though none of them would ever have admitted it.
Chris, for the first time since his mother had taken the phone call about his father seven years earlier, felt truly happy.
The two weeks after Sir Bentley’s talk with them were filled with lessons and information about every possible eventuality that they might face at the Antarctic Ball. Some of the lessons had been practical and better than any computer game that Chris could have imagined. In their think tanks they had navigated their way around a strangely deserted London, battling enemies hidden in dark alleyways and abandoned buildings, rescuing people hidden within burning buildings, and taking control of speeding vehicles leaving crime scenes. Their lessons with Ms. Lamb were far less action-filled, but with the exception of Ms. Lamb herself were just as interesting, as they all learned how to navigate one another’s minds. The fact that they had to use themselves to practice on was unsettling at first, but their increasing confidence in using blocks was reassurance enough that nobody would be finding out anything they shouldn’t be, and they all were soon comfortable enough letting their fellow pupils run around their minds in races to find specific pieces of information while their heads exploded with the sound of the ringing in their ears.
It was during one of these lessons that Ms. Lamb finally revealed to them their particular strengths. Philip and Daisy were Data Gatherers and would be used for any task that required them to remote-view. Lexi and Sebastian were, to no surprise of any of them, Suggesters—their strength was in controlling people and objects.
“And the other two,” said Ms. Lamb, not looking at either Rex or Chris, “are Mind Accessers—if the situation arises, you will be the two who will enter people’s minds to extract information or to block Inferno.”
Ms. Lamb spoke dismissively, as if this were a footnote barely worth mentioning, but they all knew that this was the most difficult of all the roles, and Chris couldn’t help but feel thrilled at Ms. Lamb’s obvious discomfort at having to acknowledge this out loud. Rex and Chris turned and grinned at each other.
• • •
“You should all be afraid—very, very afraid,” said Rex as they all walked out of the classroom. “I am Rex the Mind Accesser, and now everyone will have to do exactly what I want—ha, at last! Philip, I suggest you go to your room and get me one of those chocolate bars that your mum sent you.”
“And I suggest you stop talking, Rex,” said Philip, smiling.
“You’re just jealous of my amazing powers. What did Ms. Lamb say you were, Einstein? Oh, yeah, that’s right—a geek,” said Rex.
Philip was about to respond with a quote about how geeks rule the world, when they were interrupted by John, who was waiting for them, with Ron, in the Dome.
“We need your help. Can you all come with us—it won’t take long,” said John.
Curiously, they all followed John and Ron, who led them round the back of the hill to the playing field by the swimming pool.
“We need you to settle a bet,” explained John, leading them over to a large crate filled with small, colorful plastic balls.
“What kind of bet?” asked Chris.
“Do you want to explain, Ron?”
Ron nodded and folded his arms. “The scenario is as follows. We’re at war. We’re leading a team of men across open terrain, when—pow!”
They all jumped.
“We’re under attack! Suddenly we’re being fired at from all sides; our men are falling all around us; we need to get to safety to mount a counterattack. There’s an unoccupied building up in the distance. We need to get there before we get hit. Question is, who would get there first—me or John?
“Me, of course,” said Ron, not waiting for an answer.
“And that’s where I disagree, Ron,” said John.
“Disagree all you like, John; it won’t make you right.”
“So what do we have to do?” asked Rex, eager to get started.
“Well, John reckons that using live ammunition is a bit risky in here. Probably because he knows he’s going to lose.”
“Just get on with it, Ron,” said John.
“We need one of you to time us. The rest of you will use that mind-power thing that you’ve got—”
“The Ability?” asked Daisy.
“Right, your Ability, to make those plastic balls hit us as hard as you can while we cross the pitch to get to the flag over there,” continued Ron. He pointed to a stand with a red flag at the far end of the grass. “The first person to reach the flag wins. So will you take part in our little bet?”
“Yes!” they all replied immediately.
“Excellent,” said Ron. “Remember, hit us as hard as you can.”
Daisy, who had volunteered to be in charge of the stopwatch, stood at one end of the pitch. The rest of them lined up along the edge of the pitch, piles of plastic balls at their feet.
Ron and John made their way over to the goal line at the other end from the flag.
“I’ll go first,” said Ron. “Person to reach the target in the shortest time wins, agreed?”
“Agreed,” said John, and the two men shook hands.
“Ready?” asked Ron, turning to Daisy. Daisy nodded.
“Three . . . two . . . one . . . go!” she shouted.
Ron ran off to the left and threw himself on the ground, landing catlike on all fours, and then rolled three times before ducking down behind a large bin that was being pelted by the balls that Sebastian was f
iring off from his position at the other end of the pitch. Ron’s eyes darted about, and then he suddenly jumped up and ran, zigzagging his way across to the right side of the field. He turned his head and saw that a ball coming from Lexi’s pile was within inches of hitting his leg. Drawing from his years of martial-arts training, Ron jumped up, pulling his knees into his chest, and then, having avoided the ball, fell to the ground with a roll. He leaped up, ran a few yards, and then did a backflip to avoid another hit.
As Ron made his way from one obstacle to the next, Chris, who was last in the line, got ready to attack. He looked down at the pile of balls and concentrated his mind on them. Immediately the balls all rose up from the ground and arranged themselves in a neat line, hovering gently. Chris waited, watching the balls, until Ron appeared from behind an obstacle next to him. Beside him, Philip was firing balls furiously at Ron—who managed to avoid every one—and then the last ball disappeared and Chris took over.
Chris, with a determined look on his face, began his onslaught, firing the balls one by one with as much force as he could let his mind imagine.
“Come on, Chris—get him!” shouted Rex.
The balls flew fast and furious, smashing into the obstacles, but not one managed to hit Ron, who was ducking, diving, rolling, and leaping from one side of the pitch to the other. Finally there was only one ball left. Chris waited as Ron ran toward the flag and then released the ball, watching as it flew in a straight line. Ron turned his head just in time and jumped over it, then flew forward onto the ground, arms outstretched, fingers touching the base of the flag.
“Forty-eight seconds!” called Daisy.
Ron jumped up and smiled. He ran over to John, who had watched the entire episode with his arms folded and no expression on his face.
“You can give up now, if you want to save yourself the humiliation,” said Ron.
“I’ll give it a go,” said John. “Just to check, the winner is the quickest person to get to the flag from here—is that right, Ron?”
“That’s right, John.”
John turned to face the flag and waited as Chris, Rex, Lexi, Philip, and Sebastian retrieved all the balls using their Ability. Once the balls were all hovering in the air, John turned to Daisy and nodded his head.
“Three . . . two . . . one . . . go!” shouted Daisy.
Chris watched from the corner of his eye as John began to walk in a straight line toward the flag. Sebastian fired off the first ball, but John didn’t even look round to see where it was heading. Instead John maintained a steady stride and continued walking straight ahead, not even flinching as the ball smacked into his shoulder.
Watching from the sidelines, Ron’s face dropped as the barrage of balls flew in John’s direction and then bounced off his gigantic frame until he became just a blurred mass of colorful dots moving slowly and steadily without a break in pace or direction. Moments later John reached the other side, and as the last ball hit him, he calmly placed his hand on the flag.
“Sixteen seconds!” called Daisy.
John turned around and smiled as Ron ran over to him, bright red and fuming.
“You cheated,” said Ron, furious.
“I don’t think you’ll find that to be true, Ron,” said John calmly. “You were very specific—winner is the first person to reach the flag. You didn’t mention the balls.”
“I didn’t need to mention the balls; it was obvious,” protested Ron.
“That’s precisely the kind of thinking that gets people killed, Ron,” said John.
Ron looked as if he were about to explode with frustration. He clenched his teeth and, without saying anything to anybody, stormed off.
“Thanks for all your help,” said John, turning to face the pupils.
“No problem!” said Rex. “That was amazing! Let us know if you come up with any other bets.”
“Will do,” said John, giving a small salute. “Right, Ron, so what you making me for dinner tonight? Remember, it’s got to be three courses,” he called out as Ron disappeared around the hill.
John waved and walked off to catch up with Ron, leaving Chris and the others laughing.
• CHAPTER SEVENTEEN •
Sunday, December 16
That Sunday, while most other children were enjoying their day off school, the pupils of Myers Holt were working hard in Ms. Lamb’s lesson after an exhausting hour in the Dome running an obstacle course that Mr. Green had set up for them. As Ms. Lamb tapped her desk with a ruler to keep time, they all recited, in unison, the order of the buildings on the mind map, but, though this was something they did every day, Chris kept losing track. It didn’t go unnoticed.
“Wake up, boy!” shouted Ms. Lamb, slamming her hand hard down on Chris’s desk.
Chris jumped.
“Oh, uh, sorry,” said Chris, desperately trying to remember where they were.
“What room is next?” said Ms. Lamb, glaring down at him.
“I . . . uh . . . ,” hesitated Chris. He looked around for help.
Surprise, mouthed Philip.
“Oh, yeah, the next building is Surprise and Confusion,” said Chris, turning back to Ms. Lamb.
Ms. Lamb didn’t look impressed.
“And what street is that on?”
“Emotions Avenue,” said Chris. Ms. Lamb walked away from his desk.
“After Surprise and Confusion we come to the building housing the memories of what?”
“Jealousy,” said the children in unison.
“Very well, continue from there,” said Ms. Lamb. She started tapping her desk with the ruler and counted the children in: “Three . . . two . . . one.”
“Embarrassment . . . Pain . . . Happiness . . . Excitement and Joy . . . Fears and Phobias . . .”
“Turn left!”
“People Street . . . Family . . . Brief Encounters . . . Old Acquaintances . . . Famous People . . . Strangers . . .”
As he recited the names of the buildings, Chris’s mind began to wander once more toward thoughts of Frank at the pawnbroker’s, waiting for him to turn up, and how angry he would be at having placed his trust in him. Chris had been determined to keep his promise, but as the day had neared, his resolve had begun to wane, and the reality of sneaking out was unnerving to him.
In the Map Room, after lunch, he confessed his uncertainty to Philip, who was quick to agree with him.
“You could get thrown out of here if you get caught. It’s not worth it,” whispered Philip.
“What are you two whispering about?” said Lexi, looking over from the sofa.
“Nothing,” said Chris abruptly.
“All right, keep your hair on—not interested anyway,” said Lexi, turning back to the television.
“I just feel bad—I promised him I’d be there. He lent me money,” whispered Chris.
“What did you borrow money from him for?” asked Philip.
Chris had forgotten that, apart from Daisy, they all believed he was rich. “It’s a long story,” said Chris. “The thing is, I never break a promise—” Chris suddenly heard a ringing in his ears. As quickly as he could, he began to recite “London Bridge Is Falling Down” in his head. The ringing stopped immediately.
“What promise did you break?” asked Lexi. Chris and Philip looked around at her, and she smiled mischievously. “No point in having the Ability if you’re not going to use it. You’ll have to stop me quicker than that. So, what’s the promise?”
“What promise?” asked Sebastian, walking over from the pool table.
Chris hesitated, but before he had a chance to think of an answer, Philip jumped in.
“He promised his mum he’d eat five pieces of fruit every day, but he forgot to do it yesterday,” explained Philip.
Chris looked at Philip and gave him a what are you talking about? look. Philip shrugged.
“Best I could do,” said Philip under his breath.
“We won’t tell if you don’t, mummy’s boy,” said Rex, from across the room.
“No, no!” said Sebastian, walking over to them. “A man is only as good as his word. And you never must break promises to your mother—she gave you life. I go procure ten pieces of fruit for you now; then you will make up your promise.” Sebastian walked out of the room.
“It doesn’t matter if you didn’t mean to break the promise,” said Daisy kindly, looking up from the book she was reading. “Just start again today.”
Chris thought for a moment. “No, Sebastian’s right. I gave my word. I’ve got to do it.”
“All right, if you’re sure,” said Philip.
“This should be fun to watch,” said Rex as Sebastian walked back into the room with two bunches of bananas.
• • •
That evening, after a dinner that Chris barely touched—his stomach still full of bananas—Chris told the rest of the group that he was too tired to join them in the Map Room for their film night and that he was going to bed. He went into his bedroom, grabbed a pile of clothes from his wardrobe, climbed up to his bed, and then stuffed them all under his duvet, arranging them carefully so that it looked like he was under the covers, asleep. He tiptoed down the hallway—unnecessarily, given that the Map Room door was closed and the loud soundtrack of explosions and cars screeching from Rex’s chosen film filled the air. Chris opened the door into the entrance hall and walked past the elevator down another hallway until he reached the first door. He knocked loudly.
“Come in!” said John’s voice.
Chris turned the handle, but as he did so, he felt himself become suddenly very nervous. It was one thing sneaking out, he thought, but it was another thing entirely to have to lie to Ron and John to do it. He was about to change his mind, and then, convincing himself that it was just a small lie that was needed to do something good, he entered Ron and John’s quarters for the first time.
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