by AA Bell
‘False?’ He deflected the box gently back to her. ‘With respect, ma’am, you’ve got me all wrong. You’re one of the gutsiest people I’ve ever met, and I’ve fought alongside SAS in a war zone. That,’ he added with emphasis, ‘is a personal gift. I saw Dr Zhou design the contents, and Dr Van Danik wiring in the electrics — on their own time. Weird gift for someone who’s blind, if you ask me, but hey, I’m just security nowadays.’
‘And that’s it?’ Ben said. ‘That’s all they said?’
‘Not entirely.’ Lockman coughed and lowered his voice. ‘They wanted me to warn you that it’s still just a prototype — could have some wrinkles to work out. Supposed to help with your headaches somehow, and if you have any problems make a list and they’ll try to contact you in a month or two.’
Intrigued now, Mira couldn’t help but open it, and inside she found the sleek and unmistakable shape of wrap-around style eyeglasses, with two rolling knobs on the right-hand arm of the ear band. ‘Oh!’ she gasped. ‘They’re amazing! Do they …?’
‘Later,’ Ben said, snatching them off her. ‘Tell the docs thanks, and goodbye — to you too, Corporal. The longer you’re here, the less safe she feels. Last ferry leaves in three hours.’
‘I won’t be a problem,’ Lockman said. ‘I’m on holidays.’
‘But there are two MPs here,’ Ben whispered insistently. ‘They’ve been snooping around all week.’ He told Lockman their names and provided brief descriptions, which made them sound like Caucasian clones with brown hair and eyes, differing only in age, so Mira briefly filled in the more colourful blanks about their smells, boots and voices.
‘Probably bunking at the hotel,’ Ben warned, ‘and if they spot you — your physique and hair scream military — they’re bound to get the wrong idea about us, whether you’re on holidays or not.’
‘Can’t be MPs,’ Lockman said. ‘What MP doesn’t tell you their rank?’
‘They said they were crime-scene investigators.’
‘All MPs have ranks, from the top down to reservists, even when they’re borrowed from police ranks and private investigators. They’re all finished with your case now, anyhow. It’s airtight, and the colonel confessed.’
‘They came to my house this morning,’ Ben insisted. ‘You said yourself it’s still a restricted zone — and they’ve been bugging my mother all week.’
‘This morning? Do you mean that dark blue Landcruiser with dark windows and interstate plates?’
‘You saw them?’
‘I’ve been tailing you since Serenity. You left earlier than expected, but I passed you on the bridge. Saw you stop but by the time I could turn around on the far side, you were moving again.’
‘You’ve followed us that long?’ Mira flushed hot with frustration.
‘I’ve been trying to catch you alone and away from the house. Sounds like they were bugging the house more than your mother, though, mate — and interstate plates mean they weren’t us.’
Ben swore under his breath. ‘If not you, then who?’
‘Excellent question. Someone trying to get to the docs, is my guess. You’re the only two civilians who know about their latest research project. So I’ll have to inconvenience you a little longer, until I’ve neutralised any threat.’
Mira shivered, knowing that she and Ben weren’t the only two civilians who knew intimate details about the two medical scientists or their amazing gadget for interrogating the subconscious. Matron Sanchez had also witnessed one of Mira’s closed sessions with them — the one when they’d realised her subconscious was telling the truth about her visions from times past.
‘Neutralise?’ Mira asked. ‘Do you mean kill?’
‘Not necessarily. A quick visit from bug control should do the trick. More than likely, it’s nothing to worry about.’
‘Damn him!’ Ben whispered as he led Mira to the newsagent. ‘It’s hard not to look over my shoulder now.’
‘I’m glad he came,’ Mira replied. ‘I distrust the military now more than anybody but those two strange men were already here. Now they can be dealt with and gone by dark — hopefully.’
‘I doubt it. There may be two hours or so left in the sun, but it will take longer than that to mobilise Lockman’s team and get them over here — and that’s only if his report gets high enough priority, and if his superiors agree that his course of action is worth following up and —.’
‘Gabby’s right,’ Mira laughed. ‘You do worry too much sometimes over details.’
‘You two really hit it off?’
‘Aside from you, she’s one of the most intriguing people I’ve ever met. I wouldn’t trust her with my life like you do, but at least she didn’t sound like she was talking in half-truths, like Matron Sanchez and Corporal Lockman.’
‘Lockman, I can understand. We both picked up on his cover story, but Matron? What did she say to make you wary that she hasn’t been entirely straight with you? Today, I’m assuming?’
Mira nodded. ‘It’s not what she said. It’s the sounds she made while discussing other things. Who is she kidding? I knew you were signing to each other.’
‘Oh. I’m sorry.’ His voice wavered unexpectedly. ‘I was going to tell you, but …’
‘You knew I’d figure it out. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Ben. The only friend. Of course I could guess that we’d need friendship as the key ingredient before the matron would let me move in with you. No doubt she grilled you mercilessly to ensure you still felt the same way about me after ten days in hospital.’
‘Please don’t call me a friend, Mira. I’m more selfish than you know.’
‘You can’t be serious? You took a bullet for me!’
‘Actually, I consider this penance.’
‘For what?’
‘Failing you.’ He rubbed her hand. ‘Failing to save you, and your home and your trees and … and you think it’s all so noble of me, but it isn’t. It’s the complete opposite. I need you. Not just as a friend, and not just to score points to rebuild my career. I care about you so much, it hurts, but I need you for something else. Something far more complicated.’
‘More or less complicated than Van Danik’s formula for string theory?’
He chuckled. ‘Less, I guess. But it’s not fair of me to dump it on you now.’ He sighed and rubbed her shoulder. ‘Later, when the dust has settled from this latest mess with the MPs, I’ll explain everything. You can say no any time, of course, but in the meantime, I’ll try to make it up to you in advance.’
‘Okay, now you are worrying me. Can’t you give me a little hint?’
‘Not here. Someone’s coming.’
Mira noticed the other voices then too. Strange that she hadn’t heard them first, but from the doorstep of the newsagency, she could hear three laughing customers headed their way.
‘Ready to try the new shades?’ Ben asked.
‘Ready as ever, I guess. Are the docs’ glasses going to be dark enough to hide my eyes?’
‘Mostly. They look like Ray-Bans to me, except they have controls on the side. They seem to adjust the shade and intensity as well as colour. Not sure where the battery … oh, there it is; streamlined into the other sidearm. Ordinary button cell; plugs right in. Nice work, if it functions the way I think … Here, let me roll them as far as they go in one direction, and we can work up the spectrum.’
Placing them into her hands, he led her inside to the remotest corner of magazines.
She closed her eyes and explored them with her fingertips. ‘Hold my elbow please? Switching shades too fast can sometimes make me dizzy.’
‘I don’t doubt it. Here, let me hold your old pair.’ He took her by the elbow but leaned away briefly. ‘All clear of spectators,’ he said, tightening his grip on her. ‘I’ve got you.’
Mira opened her eyes.
Purple turned red.
Magazines vanished and Mira found herself encased in solid rock. Teeth as long as her face gaped at her — a mammoth shark fo
ssilised and forever starving. She gasped, hands flying up to her mouth as she staggered back a step.
‘What’s wrong?’ Ben whispered urgently.
She flicked off the sunshades, keeping her eyes closed. ‘Wrong end of the spectrum. I know it’s just an illusion — slow light, still travelling and refracting and all that — but Point Lookout was much higher than it is now. It must have eroded.’
‘Oh, my bad.’ He snatched them off her. ‘I forgot red was prehistory. Here, let me. We’ll skip all the mid-centuries and start at coal-purple. See how close we can get to today, and work backwards.’
‘The nearer we get, the more it hurts,’ Mira reminded him.
‘I have painkillers in the car. You want to take one in advance? I can buy drinks at the counter. Orange juice or mineral water?’
‘Not yet. I’ve had my fill of meds. Even aspirin.’
She kept her eyes closed until he repositioned the sunshades, then blinked twice as her world turned dark violet.
‘Yeowch! That’s piercing, all right!’ Squinting, she pushed a finger firmly against her temple to help slow the throbbing ache. ‘Funky, though! I can see four days ago!’
‘You can tell that from monthly magazines?’
‘Lotto results.’ She pointed down the aisle to a corner desk where numbers were posted on the wall in squares, along with the date. She had a fair idea how a lotto worked from overhearing staff at Serenity choosing their numbers religiously, every week.
‘Try adjusting the second roller,’ Ben suggested. ‘Closest to your ear.’
Mira did and swayed dizzily as the purple fog morphed through several shades of days at once. Muddy purple, reddish purple then tinged by green and blue. Toggling the roller ball at ninety degrees also adjusted intensity from black to clear; more shades and tones of purple than Mira could process in so few seconds, each allowing her to glimpse a separate moment of day or night — store opening and closing — magazines and giftwares selling and restocking, staff and customers coming and going, and walking obliviously through her.
‘Wow, this is sensitive. Fantastic, but crazy sensitive. It’s going to take me some time getting used to it.’
‘How close can you get to me right here and now?’
‘I don’t know.’ She looked around for dates that would change every day, moving along the aisle slowly, and as the shades around her also shifted, she lost her balance.
‘Steady,’ Ben said as he caught and supported her against his chest. He didn’t ease up on his grip, even after she regained her balance, but Mira took her time, enjoying the feel of her cheek against his chest.
‘Hey, buddy! No drunks in here!’ called an invisible man near the counter.
‘Sea legs,’ Ben said. ‘She’ll be fine.’
‘I need newspapers,’ she whispered. ‘Or a desk calendar.’
‘Newspapers are at the front, where it’s hectic. How about some fresh air?’ Ben didn’t wait for an answer. He ushered her out of the store, into the umbrella shade of a jacaranda tree where she could sit on a park bench and watch the front window featuring posters of the daily headlines with their dates. ‘We should have done this to start with.’
Mira felt for the seat herself, still dizzy and needing to ensure it was exactly where it appeared to be before making herself comfortable.
Ben’s weight made the seat creak as he sat close to her. ‘Tell me what you see?’
She tried again with smaller adjustments. ‘I see the ninth, fourth, eighth … Sheesh! I can’t keep my fingers steady!’ Yet the sensitivity of controls wasn’t her only problem. The longer she played, the greater her headache and the more that her hands trembled. ‘Tenth …!’
Mira gritted her teeth, determined to bear the pain in the hope of seeing Ben sitting next to her in real time. ‘Nearly night … Today must be here somewhere.’
Pain pierced her eyes like hot needles, burning white hot into the back of her brain.
‘Ah!’ She cast off the sunshades, her body hot, trembling and sweating. ‘I can’t do it!’ She buried her face in her hands. ‘I can’t catch up to you. I can’t even glimpse us going in.’
He pulled her against him with both arms and brushed the hair out of her face. ‘You don’t need to, Mira. I’ve caught you.’
She sensed the warmth of his breath drawing closer to her cheek.
He’s aching to kiss you, Gabby had said.
Heat flamed up from within her and she felt drawn to kiss him too, but the memory of her first kiss on the patio flew up with her hands. She remembered his body jerk against her as the bullet struck his shoulder from behind. Then him slumping. Falling. Her arms failing to hold him. Hearing that terrible crack as his head struck the rail, and her hands finding his blood as it began to spread all over his chest.
‘No. Please …’ She shivered. ‘I can’t go back there. I thought I could, but …’
‘Where?’ He released her, keeping only one arm about her shoulders, leaving his other hand free to find hers. ‘You always see the same place, don’t you? Only the time changes?’ His fingers tried to mesh with hers. ‘Do you need the other glasses?’
‘It’s not that.’ Pulling away with her eyes closed, she stood and steadied herself against the wrinkled trunk of the tree. Beneath her new soft-soled sandals, she could feel a thin mattress of fallen flowers. ‘I don’t want you to get hurt again.’
Ben laughed. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re the one who needs the painkiller.’
She shook her head, hearing him come to her again, and raised her hands to help keep him at arm’s length. ‘I can’t see the future whenever I want. I can’t even catch up to you, so I can’t see where this will end!’
‘Hey, hey! It’s okay.’ He took her hand and led her back into the shade. ‘You don’t need to see at all, if you’re not ready.’
‘I want to be ready. I do!’
‘It’s just too much sometimes. I know. Sit down again if you need a break. Yesterday will always be there for you.’
She nodded and sank back onto the timber seat. ‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’
‘How close did you get?’
‘Hours. I glimpsed today’s date. Only briefly before it hurt too much. The headline was something about a third body found on a beach. But the sun was still low out at sea, and the shop was just opening. So ten hours maybe, or a little more.’
‘That was today’s headlines. No doubt about it. But how close did you get before it hurt too much? I’m talking tolerable levels. A setting you could live with for hours?’
‘I don’t know. Yesterday, maybe?’ She pressed her palms against her eyes to push away the lingering pain, then asked for the sunshades. ‘Let me try again?’
After a pause that revealed his reluctance, he obliged. ‘Don’t push it,’ he warned. ‘I feel guilty enough already.’
‘Guilty?’ She rolled back through too many yesterdays to avoid the worst of the pain, then toggled forward with greater caution, keeping watch for the headline. ‘Got it!’
‘How much does it hurt?’
‘Like pool water. Feels like I’m straining through chlorine. But don’t try to stop me, Ben. I want this, especially if I can get your sun and moon in sync with mine … more or less.’ She shook her head, realising how bizarre that sounded.
‘That doesn’t excuse my motives, Mira. I’m sorry I brought you here. I would have anyway, I suppose, as part of your rehab, and I did have every intention of becoming your only guardian as soon as I’m able. It’s just the timing. I won’t blame you for hating me now. It’s too selfish.’
‘If you don’t start making sense,’ she said, playfully threatening him with a fist, ‘I’m gunna have to ask you to step into this.’ He did anyway, pushing his cheek against her fist until she smiled.
‘Okay, if you’re really up to it, please read yesterday’s headline story. I left my copy at the hospital this morning.’
Mira looked that way again. ‘Suspects arrested for
beach murders … So? It can’t have anything to do with the bodies I saw this morning. They killed each other.’
‘So I knew them — the ones in the paper.’
‘Which ones? The victims or the suspects?’
‘All of them, Mira; the girl in this morning’s headlines too. They were my friends.’
Mira dashed to the window to read the fine print.
She couldn’t stand directly in front of the postersized display of the newspaper, without standing in the ghostly lap of a long-haired bongo busker. Yesterday, he’d been rapping out fast tunes with two other male musicians, playing the strange combination of bongos with a banjo and didgeridoo. Their ghosts were silent now, yet still energetic, so she stepped over them to read the body of the article.
Being front-page news, the headline and images consumed most of the room, leaving space for only three teasing paragraphs which said little more than she already knew, aside from the names of the first two victims: Shelley Grey and Josh Markovic.
‘What are you doing?’ Ben asked.
‘Reading about Shelley and Josh.’
‘Don’t bother. It’s all rubbish. The cops can’t possibly have all the facts yet, and they never will if they keep pursuing the wrong suspects.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘I knew them too well, Mira. I know I’ve been away a long time, but some things never change. That story was all puff and no guts to it. Smacks loud and clear of another set-up.’
Mira touched the glass, feeling a little weird to be reading without Braille. ‘I wish I could see what you mean.’
The last words on the front page were: Continued page two.
‘Hang on,’ she said, glancing across the street through shades of yesterday to the park, where four people sat or lay about, reading newspapers.
She hurried to find Ben’s hand. ‘Is there anyone at the big rock over there?’
‘The memorial to Captain Cook? No. Why?’
‘There was yesterday. Come with me.’