by S M Stuart
My pacing brought me to a large window and I squinted against the morning sun glistening on the silver ribbon of the Thames. The distinctive buildings of The Tower of London dominated the far bank. Clusters of tourists were trying to get closer to the Yeoman guides. Maybe we’d have time for a quick visit before we left.
“Good morning.”
I turned at the greeting to see Mrs Johnson approaching us, her hand extended in welcome and looking more beautiful in the flesh than in the holograms we’d watched.
“Good morning,” we replied in unison.
“I’m delighted that you could come today. I have a visitor who would like to meet you. I hope you won’t mind him being part of our meeting?”
I looked at Seth for his input – he was better at this than me and he stepped in without a pause. “Of course we don’t mind. Do we, Dez?” he said, with perfectly straight face.
“No, no. Not at all,” I replied, knowing that my own face was quickly colouring up.
Luckily, Mrs Johnson had turned to lead us to her office and didn’t seem to notice my blustering. She opened the door to a large bright room. One wall was made up of floor to ceiling windows. They’d been programmed to counteract the glare of the sun and were currently tinted, giving a sepia tone to the room. No doubt there would be fantastic evening views of the city through the cleared glass when the daylight faded. Along an adjacent wall stretched a huge synth-leather sofa and at the far end of this sat a handsome, swarthy man. He looked up as we entered and stood to offer his hand in greeting.
“This is Asil Kaya. He’s Dale’s PT and is as interested as I am in your research,” Mrs Johnson said. “Asil, this is Desirée Hanson and Seth Wallis – the young people I told you about on Monday evening.” She turned back towards us. “Asil booked the first available flight from Ankara so that he could be with us today.”
She gestured for us all to sit down. Seth and I sat closely together on the sofa leaving the majority of its length free for Asil. Mrs Johnson sat on an adjacent armchair, within reach of her husband’s PT. Without consciously seeking her thoughts, I sensed that she was as nervous as I was and that Asil’s support was as necessary to her as Seth’s to me. It helped me to relax and from that brief connection I was convinced that she would be sympathetic towards our intentions. I swallowed my nerves and began to explain.
“Mrs Johnson, Mr Kaya. Please bear with me while I tell you how we ended up coming to see you today. Your security system will show you that we’re not actually old enough to be studying for such an advanced thesis as we proposed but it was the only way we could think of to approach you. We’re truly sorry for that subterfuge.”
Asil leaned forward as though to stand up but Mrs Johnson held up her hand.
“It’s all right, Asil,” she said. She turned back to me, her face now pale and her lips a tight line of disappointment. “I did wonder when your chips registered your personal details but I was willing to give you a chance. I suppose I was hoping you were some kind of scientific prodigies. Please continue.”
“At my Sixteenth-Eve, my PT connection didn’t work …” I told them the whole story; about my hypnotherapy, the voices in my head, the memories of the murders and, finally, the sense that Dale was trying to come home, calling me to help him. Seth occasionally interrupted with information from his mother’s Handi and why we believed that Dale’s collapse was connected to the murder reports that she’d tagged. I forced myself to keep going through the resurfacing emotions, although I frequently had to wipe away my tears.
When I finished we all sat in silence for a few moments. I could hear Asil’s quick, short breaths and I was afraid he was going to lose control of his temper. Mrs Johnson stood and moved towards her desk intercom. I thought she was going to have us thrown out but instead she asked for some refreshments to be brought to her office. She returned to her seat and we continued to sit quietly, waiting for her reaction. The door opened. A young man, not much older than us, brought in a tray, placing it on the coffee table by our knees.
“Thank you, Ross,” said Mrs Johnson. “Please give my apologies to all concerned but I need to cancel my appointments for the remainder of the day. This is going to take longer than I expected.”
“Certainly, Mrs Johnson,” Ross replied.
“You must be exhausted,” she said to me, as the door closed behind her assistant. “Please, help yourself.”
I was astounded at her composure and my hand shook as I poured a glass of water. My stomach wouldn’t take anything else for the moment.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
“I admit I’m disappointed that you’re here under false pretences, although I admire your tenacity in coming to see me. I just don’t know what it is you want from me.”
“We weren’t sure about that ourselves,” said Seth. “We hoped you’d be able to put us in touch with Dale’s PT so that we could ask him about his experience of the night of Dale’s collapse. Mr Kaya being here is a great help.” He looked at the Turk who was pouring a strong, black coffee.
“Asil,” he said in a thick accent. “Call me Asil. The French girl’s twin say like blanket over head?” he asked me.
“Yes, as though their connection was smothered. Is that what happened to you?”
“Mm.” He nodded then waved his arms in frustration, searching for the English words to convey his feelings. “Same then, same today. Like thick fog. I know Dale is there but I can’t get through. Like talking underwater, you know?”
I heard Mrs Johnson’s sharp intake of breath,
“I can’t imagine how awful it must be for you Asil, and the horror that Dale is suffering … It’s too much to contemplate sometimes.” She dabbed a delicate handkerchief to her eyes. Her cheeks glowed with suppressed emotion. I so wanted to help her.
“How’s Mr Johnson’s general health?” I didn’t know why I asked the question but it seemed important at the time.
“That’s the irony,” she said. “He’s in good physical shape. He’s had blood cleansing and marrow boosting treatments. He has regular physiotherapy so that his muscles don’t atrophy and he can breathe without assistance. There’s no known medical reason for his paralysis.” She finally gave in to her sobs and Asil reached for her hand, squeezing it between both of his to reassure her.
I had a strange sensation at the back of my skull and I reached up to scratch my head. But it wasn’t anything external – it began as an itch then became more intense like a slight electric shock. Just as it was beginning to feel uncomfortable it stopped but it left me nauseous. I gulped another mouthful of water.
“Would it be possible for me to see Mr Johnson sometime?” Another question I hadn’t planned!
“Actually, he’s here today.” Mrs Johnson stood and walked towards a panelled door at the rear of the room. “The children are on summer break and, as we have an apartment on the top floor, we occasionally stay here overnight.” She pressed her hand to one of the panels and the door slid open to reveal a large hidden elevator. The four of us barely filled a quarter of the space but I felt overcrowded – emotions were high and I heard the disjointed thoughts of both Mrs Johnson and Asil as they tried to take in all that I’d told them. Mrs Johnson was anxious but willing to listen, Asil was sceptical and ready to lash out if we weren’t genuine.
We stepped out of the elevator into a large open-plan living area. Near the window-wall the family were sitting at a long table playing the old-fashioned game of Scrabble. Dale’s wheelchair was at one end of the table and the girls sitting on either side of him leaned towards him, looking at his Holo-tiles as if playing on his behalf.
“Mummy!” squealed the youngest of the three girls, and she ran into her mother’s arms. “I made a seven letter word on a triple score and it had a q, so I got squillions of points.”
I could see the word she’d made – a strange mix of letters that didn’t make any word I knew but her sisters had obviously decided to indulge her. Mrs Johnson winked at her ol
der daughters as she hugged the baby of the family.
“That’s lovely, poppet. Well done. Now just let me introduce these visitors to Daddy then you can help me make something for lunch, okay?”
“’K. Hi, Asil.” The little girl waved at him and his answering smile smoothed away the brooding frown he’d worn since meeting us. It was as though he was the guardian of the family, looking out for them until Dale could retake his place as their protector. Very patriarchal!
Mrs Johnson bent to kiss her husband’s cheek.
“We have guests, darling,” she said. “Asil will tell you all about them.” She turned to her daughters. “Come on. Let’s see what we can rustle up for lunch.” With sidelong glances in our direction, the girls followed Mrs Johnson to the kitchen area.
Asil began the introductions and without conscious thought I placed my hand on Dale’s arm. Asil reached out to pull me away but as his hand came into contact with my shoulder an excruciating pain swept through my head and I almost collapsed. My vision cleared. I was still upright, holding Dale’s arm in a tight grip and leaning towards Asil, my other hand pressed against his chest to steady myself. Seth hadn’t joined us at the table and now hovered in the background, unsure whether to come forward. I tried a reassuring smile but it probably looked more like a grimace. The pain had subsided to a loud buzzing similar to that I’d had after my first hypno session. I closed my eyes trying to concentrate on pushing the noise away – back into the padded-cell. Instead, the hissing subsided and I could decipher the words,
“Dale? Can it be?”
“Asil? What happened? Who’s this girl? Where are Geraldine and the children?”
Both men were staring at me. Dale with curiosity and bewilderment, Asil with a mixture of joy and horror: How did you do that?
“I … I don’t know,” I answered aloud. I had a tingling sensation all through my body and my hands felt hot. “I’m going to let go now,” I said and pulled away from both men. The buzz of their shared communication died away in my head but not completely. I looked at Asil for confirmation and he nodded, smiling so broadly that I could see almost all his teeth. I sank into one of the dining chairs and Seth quickly came to sit by me, taking my hand in a duplication of Asil’s earlier reassurance of Mrs Johnson.
Yeah, Asil. How did I do that?
CHAPTER 41
London: 7 August 2110
I’m gonna be sick!
“Over there.” A hoarse voice answered my plea. I looked up into Dale’s eyes. Although there was a trace of the horror he’d been living, they were full of life, sparkling with happiness and gratitude. His hand was on my arm and he was jerking his head towards a door across the room. I covered my mouth, biting my lips to keep them tightly closed and made a run for it. I just made it in time, throwing up everything I’d had that morning until my stomach ached from the retching. Drained, I lay on the bathroom floor, my knees tucked up into my chest and shaking from the aftershocks of the head pain and sickness.
“Can I come in?” Seth’s muffled question followed his tentative knock at the door.
I straightened my legs and sat up with my back against the wall.
“Yeah, s’open,” I croaked through my raw throat.
He looked like he was about to be sick too. His face was tinged green-grey and his eyes were screwed up with worry.
“Jeez, Dez. Could you try to stop scaring me every five minutes?” He wrapped me in his arms and kissed the top of my head. “What just happened?” he asked.
“Dunno for sure. It was like an electric shock going through me. My head felt like it was gonna explode then I heard both Dale and Asil, and they were talking to each other.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing! It came out of nowhere. I wasn’t even thinking about anything in particular at the time. Wait … It was when Asil held my shoulder and I was touching Dale’s arm at the same time.” I looked at my hands. They were still pink from the heat of that reaction.
“You must’ve channelled their connection.” Seth seemed awed by my apparently supernatural powers. His reverent tones made me giggle with embarrassment. I half-heartedly punched him and staggered to my feet. I splashed cold water onto my face, ran my damp hands through my hair and took a steadying breath.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go find out what havoc I’ve caused now.”
Mrs Johnson and the girls were taking turns hugging Dale and each other. Asil stood by the kitchen counter looking on. He turned to smile at me.
“Come,” he said. “Say hello properly.”
We joined the happy group at the table and were greeted by our own hugs and kisses from Mrs Johnson and each of the ecstatic daughters. Even Asil gave me a brisk Arabic triple peck on the cheeks. Every time someone touched me there was a slight fizz of energy at the point of contact but I seemed to be the only one who noticed it. Maybe the excitement gave everyone else their own buzz.
“Dale Johnson. So very nice to meet you,” he said, reaching forward to shake my hand.
“Dez, and this is Seth,” I replied.
“Hello Seth. You’ve got a remarkable girl there. I’d keep hold of her if I were you.”
“Don’t worry sir. I intend to.”
Mrs Johnson had tactfully withdrawn to the kitchen and taken the girls with her. We could hear their excited chattering as they made plans for the summer now that Daddy was back. Dale shuddered, looking at the wheelchair he still occupied. Recognising the unspoken request, Asil helped his PT while Seth pulled the wheelchair away, replacing it with a dining chair.
“Thank you, Seth,” Asil and Dale said simultaneously. That was all it took to send us all into fits of hysterical laughter. It was a while before we got ourselves under control again.
“You want to ask about what happened,” Dale said, serious once more. “But I’m afraid I can’t remember anything from that time. There are a lot of blanks that I’ll need to fill in. If anything comes back to me I’ll let you know.”
“Thank you,” I said, trying to sound grateful despite the disappointment. I’d thought we were so close to solving everything now that Dale could communicate again. He seemed to sense my feelings and reached forward to take my hand.
“You’re a very special individual, Dez. I can’t thank you enough for finding me and bringing me home. I’ll try my best to remember, I promise. Anything we can do to help otherwise – just ask and it’s yours.” I realised he wasn’t speaking aloud and I looked at Asil, worried that their telepathy held been lost again but he was nodding in agreement with Dale’s words.
Seth looked curiously at the three of us.
“Sorry, Seth,” said Dale. “I’ve spent so long trapped in here,” he pointed at his head, “that it’ll take some time to remember to talk out loud.”
Seth’s nonchalant shrug didn’t convince me and I made a silent promise to try and help him establish his own PT connection.
“We’d better leave you in peace,” I said. “As you say, you’ve a lot of catching up to do.”
“You stay for lunch?” Asil asked then looked at Dale as if remembering that it was no longer his place to extend the family hospitality.
“Yes, do stay,” Dale said, smiling and nodding at Asil – reassuring his friend that he hadn’t overstepped the mark.
“No, thank you. It’s very kind but I think we all need time to take everything in,” I answered.
They accepted the reasoning even though I sensed they wanted us to join their celebration. Asil went to fetch Mrs Johnson and the girls to say goodbye to us and we left after many more hugs, kisses and promises to keep in touch.
As we stepped into the bright midday sunshine I felt a sudden shiver. A spectral shadow brushed through my mind. I turned back to see the automatic doors closing and through the diminishing gap I glimpsed a man striding confidently towards the reception desk. Something held me there, watching through the tinted glass. The man shrugged at something the receptionist said. As he began to turn back to
wards the door, I felt Seth tugging at my hand.
“Come on slowcoach.”
I was still uneasy but I put it down to the aftershock of what had happened with Dale and Asil. I squeezed Seth’s hand as we walked towards the City.
***
By the time we got back onto more familiar streets of London I was exhausted! We didn’t manage that tour of the Tower. I felt like an extra from ‘The Night of the Living Dead’ so we walked slowly, looking for a quiet street-side café to sit and watch the world go by.
“You all right?” Seth asked when I’d been quiet for a record length of time – for me anyway!
“Yeah. Fine. Just knackered. Can’t believe how tired I feel when I haven’t done anything!”
“You haven’t done anything? You’ve only gone and reconnected a couple of PTs when one of ’em’s been almost comatose for nearly five years – that’s all!”
“Shh! Someone’ll hear you.” I looked around hoping that Seth’s loud response hadn’t attracted eavesdroppers. Luckily most people were listening to music or news through their earpieces, or were too busy gossiping to their colleagues to take any notice. I leaned closer towards him.
“Seth, you know I was wondering how to isolate telepathic connections? I think it helps if I’m touching the person – I could hear Dale clear as anything when he was holding my arm. I know it won’t help find the murderer, but it’s one more thing I’ve discovered about my own capabilities.”
“Mm.” Seth shrugged. I didn’t need any telepathy to know that he was still struggling with his own lack of an PT compared to my constantly evolving talents. I squeezed his arm.