Wild Thing

by L. J. Kendall

  -

  After all his visitors had left, Director Sanders turned to his screen, and sighed. The man looking back at him quirked an eyebrow up. 'Not bad for a nine-year-old girl, eh Sanders?'

  Director Sanders shook his head. 'I was sure you'd have to use your veto, sir. But in the end, I think even Smith was impressed by her ingenuity.'

  'What did you think, Sanders, of her story about She?'

  'Worried, frankly. Neither Dr Harmon nor the three very impressive shamans you found for us this year saw anything incorporeal at any stage. But still, and I can't pin down why I feel this way, I'm worried.'

  'And her story of hunting invisible things like that in your grounds?'

  'It's a horrifying thought, isn't it? If it were true. Frankly, sir, if it were anyone other than Godsson and d'Artelle involved – and Lord Lao Pi Shen, for that matter – I'd dismiss it out of hand. It's far more comfortable to assume it's just shared fantasizing.'

  The man nodded. 'But whether this is some game by the Dragon or not, it is still in his best interests to see Godsson contained. Just as it is for everyone else on the planet. So, whether these annual attacks are real or just Godsson's fantasy, I feel we can still be sure that our containment of him is still effective.'

  'So, nothing has changed, sir?'

  'I don't believe so. Don't lower your guard, though. Neither of us wants to use plan B, do we?'

  'No, sir.'

  A bead of sweat at his brow at the thought, Sanders signed off and eased back in his chair. Hopefully, next year's anniversary of d'Artelle's death would be less dramatic, if the usual three-yearly rising-then-falling pattern held.

  Chapter 16

  They'd glued shut her secret door and made her promise not to go up into the ceiling again. But it wasn't till the next day that she discovered what “Grounding” really meant: when she stepped outside her room to go to breakfast, and suddenly sirens were going off.

  Her uncle hurried out of his office. And then explained that, yes, for a whole week, she was not allowed out of her room unless it was an emergency. And he'd narrowed his eyes as if he knew exactly what she'd been thinking when she made the mistake of looking happy about the “unless.”

  And Faith wasn't allowed to come inside, either.

  Grounding was awful.

  Her uncle brought her breakfast, and a dombot came and collected the dishes and stuff. Nerida brought her lunch, and for some reason said she hoped she wasn't going to waste “all that food.” Which was weird: why would she have asked for it if she wasn't going to eat it?

  But Nerida had brought her own lunch and ate it at the desk, watching while she sat on her bed and had her soymeat, hash brown – yum! – and fish fingers on toast. Nerida just had a salad and a blueberry muffin. At first, she thought Nerida had stayed because she thought she was going to do something weird with her food, but after a little while Nerida started asking about what'd happened the night before.

  So she told her, and it was kind of cool how Nerida kept going “No way!” and “You didn't!”, but not like she thought she really didn't. It'd actually been fun talking to her. Nerida seemed to get less strange the more they talked. Though not completely not-strange, Sara discovered, when she'd tried to explain about the spirits in the woods and the invisible monsters.

  That evening, at the knock on the door at dinner time, she toppled down from the wall, her hands and arms aching from holding herself upside down. 'Coming, Nerida!' she called out as she bounced over and threw open the door.

  And found Keepie standing there with her dinner tray. He didn't look too happy, either, she thought. She blushed, annoyed at getting it so wrong, then remembered to step aside so he could come in. He looked sideways at her, with a little frown.

  'I thought you and Nerida didn't get on?'

  'Oh, she's not so bad once you get to know her.'

  He just looked at her, thoughtfully. He must've already eaten, since he only had food for her on the tray. He put it on her desk and made her eat it there, instead of cross-legged on her bed.

  She was sure he'd come for some special reason, but for a long while he didn't say anything, just watched her while she ate.

  She looked at him, trying to work out if they'd changed their minds and she was going to be in bigger trouble after all, but it was more like he wanted to ask her something. When he finally spoke, though, it was just to ask about Godsson.

  'I suppose you and he talk about a great many different subjects, Sara?'

  She answered around a mouthful of her seafood omelet – for some reason, she hadn't felt very hungry tonight. 'Uh, yeah. I guess.'

  'Adam and Eve?'

  She grimaced. 'Yeah. That story didn't make any sense to me, but. A lot of-'

  'Has he ever talked to you about Lilith?'

  Huh? That sounded like… 'Lily?'

  'Never mind: no need to fill your head with fantasy and superstition. Did you ever talk to Godsson about “Her?”'

  She never had, ’cause she knew She didn't like Godsson and just wanted to upset him. 'No.'

  Her uncle frowned. 'What about “Robo”?'

  'No.'

  Actually, why hadn't she mentioned Robo to Godsson? More than once, she'd been about to. But each time, she'd just… decided it would be a bad idea. Like Godsson would approve of Robo. Too much.

  At the odd look on his face, an awful thought struck her. 'Have you been talking to Godsson, Keepie?'

  Suddenly he looked guilty!

  'Oh, no! And you told him about Robo, didn't you?' She wasn't sure why that was such a bad idea, she just knew it was. At her look, he got even guiltier. 'Oh-! No, you told him about Her, too, didn't you!'

  He actually winced – then shook himself. 'It doesn't matter, Sara, provided you don't get drawn into his nonsense. The man’s fantasies get worse by the month.’

  She felt her lips pressing together, and for some reason she wanted to hit him. 'What fantasies?'

  'You wouldn’t understand.'

  'Stop treating me like a baby! I would too understand!'

  He sighed. 'I'm not treating you like a child. I scarcely understand it myself.'

  So he did understand! She glared at him.

  'Oh, just some gobbledegook.'

  She kept glaring.

  'Oh, some story about traveling to the Imaginal realm with his physical body, and about how Melisande d’Artelle's death in that place created a magical pattern which then followed him back. There: satisfied? Complete fantasy, of course.'

  'If it's just make-believe, why not let him go free?'

  He made a strangled noise. 'Do you have any idea how much harm a mentally unstable mage can do?'

  'Godsson wouldn't hurt anyone!'

  For a moment, she thought he was choking. Then he looked really angry. 'I assure you, you're utterly wrong. Godsson has… “harmed” people, Sara. I have seen it with my own eyes.'

  He seemed to think for a moment. Then shook his head. 'No. No, you're not to see him anymore. I forbid it.'

  'Fine,' she snapped, but inside she was thinking You can't stop me from seeing my friend. She pushed her plate away. It had gone cold, anyway.

  Neither of them spoke as he picked up her tray and stood. She didn't look at him.

  'You're still Grounded, Sara,' he said, from the doorway.

  'I know,' she said, still not looking at him.

  For several seconds he must've just stood there, watching her. 'Order your meals from the cafeteria using your netpad. A dombot will bring it.'

  'But Nerida-'

  'Nerida has her own work to do, and doesn't have time to wait on you hand and foot.'

  'She doesn't-'

  But by the time she'd turned back round, he'd already left and the door was shutting.

  Why was he so mean?

  She didn't see anyone for a whole day, after that, and thought she'd go mad. When her uncle opened the door, she jumped up before she remembered she was still cross with him. Except she wasn't; not rea
lly.

  He didn't look all that happy to see her, though.

  'Come along, Sara. We have… a visitor.'

  He said “visitor” like you'd say “poo on your shoe.” 'Come where?'

  'Just to my office. Professor Sanders, and our visitor, Professor Roger Ahronian of MITM' – and again, he looked like the words tasted bad in his mouth – 'are waiting to discuss my concerns over recent events. For some reason, the Director has decided he wants you present. But I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself.'

  He noted her lips thin. Of course that wouldn't stop her. 'They are unlikely to be helpful to Godsson should you share them.'

  'Why not? What's so special about Professor, Ar…?'

  'Professor Ahronian considers himself the world expert on the Incorporeal. And he is quite certain he has nothing to learn from Godsson.'

  So, she had to come and sit with her uncle while someone he hated was rude about Godsson? She considered staying where she was. 'I'm not allowed out of my room.'

  'You are for this.'

  'Does that mean my Grounding is over?'

  'No! Now stop being difficult and come along. We mustn't keep our distinguished visitor waiting.'

  'Can I bring my bow and arrows?'

  For a moment she thought he was going to snap at her, but suddenly he smiled. Then chuckled, and his shoulders relaxed. 'I'm tempted to say yes, but you had better not. Come along.'

  Maybe it wouldn't be too bad.

  The expert certainly looked very expert: he was tall, with very black hair and a neat black beard and sharp black eyebrows, and wore a nice suit. He looked like he might be an actor, or somebody important.

  'Ah, and this is the young lady in question, is it?'

  She wasn’t sure if that was a smile or a sneer, but the way her uncle and the Director winced when he said “young lady” helped her remember she hadn't been bad.

  She wasn't sure she was going to like him.

  Her uncle went and sat behind his desk in his usual spot. The foreign-looking professor sat opposite him. He was leaning back in the heavy visitor chair, one very shiny black shoe bouncing up and down across his knee, and looking like he was the one in charge.

  She decided she didn't like him.

  Professor Sanders was sitting in another chair, at the side of the desk, like he was going to be an umpire or something. At a nod from her Uncle, she saw they'd put another chair to the left of the Director's, at an angle to it. She went and sat down.

  They talked about “papers” for a bit and how her uncle hadn't written on any for a while, or something like that, and then the visitor – who had quite a long, and slightly bent-down nose – leaned forward. 'Alexander – I may call you Alexander, may I?'

  She expected her uncle to say “No,” but he just tilted his head slightly.

  'I've read your report, viewed the recent footage, and the Director has even kindly taken me down to “Godsson's” cell for a personal inspection. Impressive Wards, I must say. Although my opinion has not shifted in the intervening years-'

  She saw her uncle's lips press together.

  '- and I still think the poor fellow could be treated a little less like a dangerous criminal and more like an actual patient.'

  She sat up straighter at that. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all? At the look her uncle was giving her, though, instead of saying what a good idea that was, she just nodded her head a lot.

  'Your idea clearly meets with my nine-year-old ward's approval, which you must no doubt find reassuring – but he is clinically insane, Roger. I may call you Roger, may I?'

  Huh? She tilted her head, watching the two men. They both had the same kind of smile on their faces, she saw. Like they wanted to punch each other. What was going on? Maybe this would get interesting, after all.

  'Nor may we magically neuter him without his legal consent – even if that would work, for someone of his power.

  'And perhaps I should also remind you that those Wards, and our precautions, are at the explicit recommendation of the Emperor of China. He warned us that something had made a link to Godsson, something that had been moving in their “direction” as they left what they called The Deeps behind them.'

  Ahronian spread his well-manicured hands. 'Dragons lie, Alexander...'

  Dragons again? This was getting good! She wondered when she'd get to see him. Unfortunately, she'd been so distracted she missed some of what “Roger” said, after that.

  'I pointed this out to you, I believe, in the report I prepared following my first visit, all those years ago. My opinion is unchanged. In my view the evidence points more to Lao Pi Shen bringing you this fellow merely for his own amusement.'

  Things got a bit complicated after that, but she gathered that Roger thought the Dragon Lord was playing a joke on Keepie, one that'd take years and years before it got funny. Except it probably wouldn't be that sort of a joke.

  But Keepie thought the Dragon wasn't joking at all, and was very serious about keeping Godsson locked up.

  She wondered if Godsson scared the Dragon? Did Godsson know his weakness? Did dragons have a weakness? But if they did, and Godsson knew what it was, why not just tell Uncle? And she wasn't sure if the Dragon – or the Dragon Lord, it wasn't clear whether he was a real dragon or not – was a baddie or a goodie. They didn't talk like he was either, really. More like he was just kind of scary.

  Which made sense if he was a real dragon. She decided maybe dragons would play tricks, though.

  Then Roger was rude about Keepie's research, but Keepie just smiled, and kind of said Roger didn't do proper research, except not exactly in those words. Once again she had the strong feeling they both wanted to punch each other, even though they kept smiling at each other.

  Professor Sanders didn't say anything, just seemed to watch everything, as far as she could tell whenever she looked at him. Which was mostly when she thought Keepie and the mean professor wanted to thump one another.

  At one point, being careful not to let Roger see, she made a little gesture like she was shooting him with her bow and arrow, and for the first time, saw Keepie relax. For a moment, he almost smiled.

  But then it got more interesting again, if a bit hard to follow.

  Keepie asked, 'So you discount the FBI agent's own reported impressions; as well as Godsson's reaction at the time my ward took her impetuous action?'

  Roger smiled. 'I thought for a moment you were about to ask me to take into account your ward's own story.' He steepled his fingers. 'Surely you're aware of Arizmendi's seminal 2008 paper…'

  He started talking about communicating diss-show-tiv states, and psycho dramas, impetuous young girls – which she was pretty sure was a good thing, since he also praised her imagination – and “Suggest ability.”

  But maybe she'd got that wrong, since Keepie suddenly seemed to be asking if maybe there might be a third kind of Incorp-or-Real being, and then he and Roger got all super-polite I'd-like-to-punch-you-so-hard again, talking about empathy and mirror new-rones and stuff, before getting interesting again.

  Her uncle was saying, 'your exhausting Tax-onna-me of the Incorp-or-Real offers no scope for explaining the physical transport of living beings, such as Lao Pi Shen's mysterious arrival here in ’47, or for that matter d'Artelle's still-unexplained physical escape.'

  But Roger didn't look impressed. 'Mere trickery, Alex. Even before magic truly returned, “magicians” performed convincing feats of physical trans location. Armed with real magic, how much easier must such deceptions be to pull off now, eh? If these imaginary new Incorp-or-Real beings of yours can cross the cell Wards, then presumably so too could Mr Benson. Yet there he remains.'

  Who was “Mr Benson?” Godsson? Surely not!

  'So you are certain there is no cause for concern?'

  'Absolutely. Though perhaps you need to keep a closer eye on your ward, eh? Especially if you're bringing her up here, of all places. I wouldn't be letting my children climb around in roof cavities!'
>
  Suddenly she wanted to punch him. 'You wouldn't be able to stop me. You're mean. I'd run away if you were my uncle!'

  She was on her feet, she realized.

  They were all looking at her, but it was true: she would, and he couldn't!

  But the mean professor just sneered at her like he was pleased that she knew it wasn't a real smile, and then the grown-ups were all politely rude to each other while they said their goodbyes – except Professor Sanders – and then the Director took the mean professor away.

  Good riddance!

  'Perhaps I should have let you bring your bow and arrows after all, Wild Thing, eh?'

  And just like that, they were friends again. He even read to her before she went to sleep.

  But Grounding was still absolutely awful. If it'd gone longer than a week, she reckoned they would've had to lock her up ’cause she would've really gone insane. Thank goodness for the trids and things. At least she got to watch Death on Blood Mountain a bunch more times.

  But it was even better when she was finally allowed outside again. And Keepie kind of hinted that he thought she'd done the right thing, and that he was pleased with her.

  So, really, it all worked out quite well in the end, apart from the fact that they'd glued shut her secret door.

  And as for not being allowed to visit Godsson any more? She'd find a way…

  PART II

  (Two years later)

  Chapter 17

  Things were quite comfortable at the Institute – though sometimes Sara wished for other kids her own age to play with. Her uncle seemed happy with her “progress,” even if she wasn't exactly sure what that meant. Though he did say he wished it was faster than the sea level's retreat. She'd made the mistake of asking “what sea level retreat?”: that led to a whole lesson on the “re-icing” of Antarctica.