“What’s that?” said Amelia.
“Our mothers belong to an organisation which is going to turn us into serpent-tailed, lion-headed, goat women. How’s that?” They burst out laughing, both pleased with the diversion.
“Is that the best you can come up with?” laughed Amelia. “I certainly wouldn’t want one in my back garden.”
“Well it sounds big,” laughed Rayn. “Where would it live?
“Anywhere it damned well pleases I should imagine. I don’t think it would take kindly to an eviction notice. Do you?” Mental images pushed them into hysterics.
“It’s this Chimera-more-than-one-species thing that bothers me,” said Rayn when she could breathe again.
“In what way?” asked Amelia?
“In this instance, it seems to apply to that tree. What’s the significance? I mean, how can you improve on a tree that’s been around for umpteen million years and can live for ten lifetimes?”
“It doesn’t have to be that particular tree. It could be… Oh my God! Rayn, I’ve just remembered.” Rayn jumped at Amelia’s outburst. “Some years ago, before I was born, my mum had a paper published. It made her quite famous for a while – in her field, that is. She managed to grow apples and pears on the same tree. Is that a Chimera, I wonder?”
“What happened to her invention?” asked Rayn.
“I don’t know. It was hailed as a breakthrough in Genetic Modification at the time. But the anti-GM people got going and Mum’s work just fizzled out. I think she gave up that branch of science altogether after that.”
“Amelia! I can’t breathe!” gasped Rayn. “Help me, please.”
Her friend exploded into action. She grabbed an open bottle of brandy, picked up a glass and threw its contents out on the table. She poured a shot and gave it to her friend. Rayn held the glass in both hands.
“Drink it,” commanded Amelia. “Go on. Down in one go. Do it!”
Rayn did as she was told. Amelia was surprised that her friend didn’t choke. Rayn sat for a moment and then started breathing normally. Amelia passed her an almost clean paper napkin to help her control her watering eyes and running nose.
“Wow,” said Rayn. She cleared her throat and, with a hoarse voice, said, “Thanks Amelia. That was scary.”
“I’m going to make some more coffee and then I want to know exactly what brought that on,” she said as she left for the kitchen.
***
They sat on opposite sides of the table, staring at each other as they sipped their hot, strong, black, sugarless coffee. Neither girl was tired. Amelia was trying to ignore the debris of the Christmas dinner aftermath. In the end she picked up a fork, jabbed a piece of strawberry gateau left on a plate and popped it in her mouth. Rayn went for a bowl of mixed crisps that the twins hadn’t destroyed and started munching.
“So, what got to you just now? Give it to me.”
“Just a minute,” said Rayn. “I’ve got to get this right or it won’t make sense.”
“You’ve had several weeks. What’s stopping you now?” replied Amelia.
“We need Claire here really. She’s got a much more logical mind,” said Rayn.
“Well, she’s not. We’ve only got you and me, so stop procrastinating and get on with it.” Amelia was getting angry.
“All right, calm down,” Rayn replied. “The last time we talked about this, I don’t think we really believed it, did we?”
“Not really, that’s why we called it far-fetched. Go on.” Amelia’s sarcasm was evident.
“It was something you said that got me thinking. You said if we are being manipulated, then why? So I thought I’d run with it, see what turns up. All good detective stories talk about opportunity and motive. The opportunity has always been there because of our ignorance. But what’s the motive? I started to see this as a two-part drama. The Professors book and everyone’s strange behaviour, and tried to connect it, and suddenly it hit me.”
“As I will if you don’t get to the point soon.” threatened Amelia.
“No. Think about it. The Professor was writing about, what was it? Surviving the holocaust and the hope that there would be generations to enjoy the future of the future. The other part is that there seems to be a great effort going on around us in food sustainability research. Your mum’s profession, genetic modification, and my mum’s wild food expertise. And what was it Nigel saw in Tetherington Hall greenhouse? A Rain forest and hydroponic gardens.”
“But what’s the link up, how does it come together?” Amelia felt her mind closing in on something tangible.
“Us.” Rayn announced. “That’s what hit me, it’s the way we’ve been brought up, as if to survive a cataclysmic event, a Rubicon, a point of no return if you like. To be successful you’d need a super fit highly intelligent group of people to survive, with a sustainable food source. Is that what all this is about do you think?’
Both girls were stunned. It was the first time Rayn had put it all together and the first time Amelia had heard it. To them it seemed so obvious it was frightening.
“It’s been drifting around in my head for a while, then you said something that made everything, and I mean everything, drop into place. That’s what got to me just now, just like the brandy you gave me. Thanks for that, by the way.”
“More coffee?” Amelia asked her.
“Yes please. But why now?”
“Because it’s your turn to make it. And I want to know what I said that was the catalyst.”
Once Rayn had returned, Amelia sipped her drink and waited for her to continue. “About your mum. I don’t think genetic modification could have just vanished. It doesn’t fit the human profile. I think it just went underground, with research being done in places like little village flower shops all over the world?” Rayn left the suggestion hanging.
“You know this odd extra sense I seem to be developing?” Amelia asked.
“Yes, go on. I’m listening,” Rayn replied.
“I’ve become much more confident with it now. I trust it and I’m not afraid of it, either.”
“I understand,” said Rayn, gently encouraging her friend to talk it through.
“The feeling I have right now is that, no matter how stupid, ridiculous or completely impossible it may sound, you’ve nailed it. It’s the right answer. What do you think of that?”
“Well,” answered Rayn. “Apart from being pleased with myself, I have to remind you that it’s not an answer we’re looking for right now, it’s a reason. Remember, we’re looking for the motive that fits the opportunity.”
“Yes, but it’s a hell of a leap forward,” replied Amelia.
“When you said this Chimera had something to do with trees, and then you said that your mum was a tree specialist, I think that’s when I knew. It all seemed so obvious it scared the hell out of me.”
“Knew what?” said Amelia.
“Well, it may be stretching things a bit much, but with all the people in our lives at the moment, we have between us the capability to live in an open forest, independent of the outside world.”
“Apart from the fact that I don’t see the point, you’re going to have to be a bit more specific. Come on, you’re the jungle girl, explain. How does it work?” Amelia was struggling with the concept.
“You just look for the skills needed to survive. We’d need hunters – you, me Nigel. Gatherers – me, Mum, Molly. My mum can butcher any animal, cook it a dozen different ways and turn the hide into leather. Molly can make clothes. Your mum knows about medicines and can extract potions and stuff. I know what plants can and can’t be eaten. Nigel and I know about horses. It’s all there, Amelia. Even childcare, domestic science – there’s Molly again. The teacher could be Miss Collins (maybe). George can do almost everything and there may even be others who we don’t even know about yet.”
Rayn’s eyes were shining with emotion as she looked at Amelia, searching for approval.
“I’m sorry, Rayn. It may seem like paradise t
o you, but it’s the stuff my nightmares are made of, remember? Anyway, what about Caz and Claire? And Sambo, come to that. Where do they fit in?” Amelia was trying to let her friend down easily but Rayn wasn’t to be put off and was quick to her own defence.
“The Romans taught us that the two main ingredients for a stable society are bread and circus. Survival and diversion.” She said. “It comes down to food, shelter and leisure pursuits. Music, art, dancing. Then there’s fighting. I mean athletic competitions, and my mum knows how to make a still.”
“A what?”
“A still, for distilling alcohol.”
“I might have known,” answered Amelia. “I suppose that would be important. But it’s a bit risky, isn’t it? And where would we be doing all this?”
“I don’t know, Amelia. You’re right. We couldn’t just send out for takeaway, or an ambulance come to that. I expect I just got carried away, sorry. It can’t possibly work.” The light in her eyes faded and her disappointment was plain to see.
“Unless,” said Amelia as an afterthought. “We introduce a factor that you seem to have overlooked.”
“What’s that?” said Rayn hopefully.
“As my mother is involved, we may be living in a genetically modified forest. One especially designed not to let us fail.”
“I don’t know, Amelia,” Rayn conceded, “there’s probably a dozen explanations for all the things that seem to be going on. Maybe it’s me. Am I searching for some fantasy island of my own? I mean, really, to grow a rain forest would take years. By the time the trees were tall enough to climb, we’d be too old.” Rayn became a bit more negative in her analysis.
“You may be right,” said Amelia. “It does sound a bit like a fairy tale, but my extra sense gives me a comfortable feeling about it. And you know the outdoor life is not exactly my idea of paradise. I like my decadent creature comforts.”
“I must admit,” Rayn smiled, “I dream of owning a microwave oven. But there’s nothing that we need,” she added. “Loads that we want, but nothing we need.”
“Tell me more about this life in the jungle. Maybe we should be allowed to stretch the fantasy a little,” said Amelia.
“You want to hear the bit about when we meet Tarzan?” giggled Rayn.
“And his brother,” chipped in Amelia. “I don’t fancy sharing him.” The two girls laughed together at the thought. “It sounds great, but what about me?” said Amelia after they had explored some indelicate possibilities. “Everybody else seems to be multi-skilled. What do I do apart from hunting?”
“Oh, you know. Leap from bough to bough with skill, strength and precision, like in your dream,” said Rayn, smiling.
“Very funny,” said Amelia. “I was serious.”
“You really haven’t grasped your role in all this, have you?” said Rayn.
“What do you mean?”
“You. You’re the centre of things. You are the leader!” Rayn was emphatic. She spoke with absolute certainty.
“What?” Amelia was shocked. “For heaven’s sake, Ryan. What are you on about?”
“I’ve known since I first met you. You have that quality. I think you’ll grow to understand it eventually,” Rayn told her, deadly serious.
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Amelia remarked, dismissing Rayn’s presumption out of hand. “Anyway, what about my mum? It won’t be much fun for her in a jungle.” Her fantasy was fading fast.
“She’s a tree expert, right? What else does she do?”
“She holds doctorates in micro-biotics and genetic engineering.” Amelia announced fiercely proud.
“She’s a doctor? How come she never calls herself one?” Rayn was surprised.
“She says that once people know, they start telling her about their aches and pains. It saves a lot of bother.”
“That makes sense,” agreed Rayn. “Well, there you are then. She’s a tree doctor. Just the thing for a woodland fairy tale.” She sat back and took a mouthful of cold coffee. Amelia laughed at the grimace she gave at the bitter taste.
“But we’re back to the same old questions,” continued Amelia wearily. “Who?”
“I’m still gathering data,” said Rayn. “I wasn’t planning on telling you all this yet, but it couldn’t be helped.”
“Yes,” said Amelia, “but it’s still only a theory. We have no real evidence, only supposition.”
“Coupled with logic. I told you, we need Claire.”
“No disrespect to you, my friend, but I think you’re right,” Amelia answered. “Good grief!” she said suddenly. “Look at the time. It’s gone four o’clock. Have we been talking all night?”
“I guess so,” said Rayn. “I’m not going to be able to sleep now. Shall we attack this lot?” She glanced around the table.
“Why not?” agreed Amelia. “It’s not going to go away on its own, is it? And there’s plenty more in the kitchen if we run out.”
***
“By the way,” said Rayn, over-packing the dishwasher. “I met Molly’s friend, Lorraine. She’s a maid up at the Hall. You never know, she might prove very useful. And perhaps we’d better make an effort to find out about Lucy Lacey Imports as well? We didn’t follow it through.”
Amelia put the rubbish bags outside the back door and they surveyed the pile of pots and pans. Amelia was all for leaving them to soak, but Rayn insisted they finish what they had started. “You know what bugs me about this conspiracy thing?” she said, arms deep in washing-up water.
“What? The new revised not-so-far-fetched version?” Amelia asked.
“Yeah. Have we put all this together because we are smarter than they are, or are they not as smart as they should be?” Rayn pondered.
Amelia, wondering what she was talking about through her creeping tiredness suggested, “What really blows your mind is whether we’ve discovered all this because we’re smart, or because we were supposed to? Is it all pre-planned?”
“Amelia, for my birthday next week, I’m going to have you put down. This is quite difficult enough to get your head round as it is.” Rayn reminded her friend as they sat at the clean dining room table with fresh coffee.
“Hmm,” answered Amelia. “There’s obviously a much bigger picture we haven’t seen yet. The thing is, are we going to fight it, or go with it?”
“How do you mean?” said Rayn.
“Well,” explained Amelia. “At first we were pretty annoyed when we thought our lives weren’t what they seemed.
“Yeah, I’ll agree with you there,” said Rayn.
“The natural instinct was to fight against it, wasn’t it?”
“I see where you’re going now,” Rayn replied. “Now we know our mums are involved in it – whatever it is – and we both know they don’t mean us any harm, should we quietly go along with it or not?”
“Exactly,” said Amelia. “What do you think?”
“Difficult one.” Rayn thought for a moment, “life on the road does teach you to hedge your bets. So I suggest we continue to collect information, analyse and assess and try and get a step ahead. Then we’ll be in a position to pull the plug when, or if, we think it’s necessary.”
“Good thinking,” said Amelia, very impressed with her friend. “In the meantime, we go along with it then?”
“Without giving ourselves away,” warned Rayn. “I don’t believe we’re supposed to have worked all this out. It wouldn’t make sense. If there is something going on, we’d be able to pull it all down. They wouldn’t want that, would they?”
“But who the hell is they. And what if there’s nothing going on and we’re just making fools of ourselves?” responded Amelia.
Rayn laughed. “Then we tell no one and never mention it again until we meet up at reunions. But Amelia, it doesn’t feel wrong to me.”
“Nor me,” said Amelia.
Rayn sat up suddenly. Amelia could see the fire back in her tired eyes. “Here’s an idea,” she said, with fresh impetus. “As hunters we would need to
be archers and spear and knife throwers, wouldn’t we? I can throw those big circus knives – badly, but I can do it.”
“I’m not bad with a bow and arrow, but I couldn’t call it archery,” added Amelia. “So what’s on your mind?”
“Why don’t we suggest it to George that we’d like to learn?” Rayn sat back, a look of triumph on her face.
“Rayn, you are a genius,” said Amelia, full of admiration for her friend. “No one would be suspicious if you asked Nigel to teach you knife throwing, you being more aggressive. And I’ll tell George I’m interested in archery. We can join in with each other and both learn. It’s brilliant.”
“We could take up javelin at school!” answered Rayn, enthusiastically. “We couldn’t do it in your back yard; we’d kill half the neighbourhood.” She gave an evil laugh.
“And,” added Amelia, “the beauty of it is, if George comes up with all the gear and training, we’ll know we’re on to something. And I think it may be a good idea if we include some sort of sword fighting. I can’t rely on my dream state. We have to hunt to eat, but we may also have to defend ourselves. You never know.”
“That’s the spirit Amelia. God I’m good. I don’t know how I do it sometimes,” bragged Rayn with a grin. Amelia silently agreed with her friend.
“We’d better get New Year over with first, give everything time to settle down.” Amelia advised.
When Amelia took the cups back to the kitchen she was surprised to see Bridie sitting at the table. Amelia thought how awful she looked. Her eyes were closed and her hair had broken free of its moorings during the night and hung in a tangled mess over her face and shoulders. “At least she’s not in any state to have heard anything?” was Rayn’s immediate response when she learned that her mother was up and she saw the state she was in. She quickly made an extra strong coffee and put the cup in front of her. Bridie’s hands came together and she lifted the cup. Finding a gap in her hair she took a sip and gave a huge sigh as she lowered her head into the elixir of life.
***
The two girls dismantled the cot and took it with the bedding up to Amelia’s bedroom. “I’ve got to get Mum up soon,” she said to Rayn. “I’ll just rest for a minute.” By the time Rayn had put the cot together Amelia was almost off the planet. She slipped out of her clothes and climbed in to bed. Pulling the duvet up she allowed her mind and body to descend into the luxury of sleep.
The Chrysalid Conspiracy Page 22