Neptune's Tears

by Susan Waggoner

  ‘And now,’ he announced, ‘my little theatre. In the scenes you’re about to see, danger is lurking. One of the characters is up to no good and means the others harm. Watch carefully and try to spot the culprit before he – or she – acts. When you do, press this button.’

  Zee wasn’t sure what she expected, but what she saw when Major Dawson activated the box made her gasp. Instantly, an entire section of Oxford Street appeared in miniature 3D, with traffic and buses and people going about their business. It was so real-looking – much more substantial than most holograms – that it was difficult to believe the miniature people weren’t actually real. Reminding herself of her assignment, she began scanning the crowd. Within a few seconds, a shock bomb went off and people began to run. Horrifyingly, a few dozen piled up at the end of the box and suffocated.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Major Dawson said. He tapped his handheld and the box cleared, bodies, red buses and all. ‘The only person who ever got this the first time was a psychopath, unsuitable for all sorts of reasons. Let’s try again.’

  This time Zee focused on the action, freezing the drama when she thought she’d identified the culprit. But she’d picked incorrectly, and when Major Dawson resumed the action, the mother with a pram turned out to be a suicide bomber.

  ‘You’re trying to use logic and deduction,’ he told Zee. ‘Forget that. Just go with your vibe.’

  She tried and got one of the next three right, which the Major told her was quite good. But when he asked her what had led to her ‘vibe’, as he called it, she couldn’t say. Then they broke for lunch – tuna salad or Branston pickle and cheese, a food item Zee was certain she’d never get used to – then reviewed the results of the tests. ‘Well, Miss McAdams,’ Major Dawson began, ‘you’ve demonstrated a singular inability to predict the future in a wide range of circumstances.’

  ‘Oh.’ Zee felt surprisingly let down. In spite of her reluctance about becoming a diviner, she’d wanted to do well. She began to gather her things.

  ‘But,’ he continued, ‘on the most crucial tests you exhibited unusually high potential. Would you like to hear more?’ Zee relaxed back into her chair and the Major smiled. ‘The tests you did the worst on were the gambling tests – the lottery and card prediction. The rapidity with which you completed these compared to other tests indicates an element of moral judgement.’

  ‘Isn’t that a good thing?’

  ‘Perhaps in some cases,’ the Major said thoughtfully, ‘but here we work as one organism, without room for individual judgement. In most cases you won’t be told what you’re looking for. A target could be anything from a hostage to a loose nuke. This ensures that your perceptions will be as pure and spontaneous as possible, uncontaminated by expectations. So our requests will not always make sense, and may even seem dubious, but we count on you to take them seriously.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ said Zee.

  The last test they reviewed was the one Major Dawson called viewing, where Zee had been asked to describe a picture that was concealed from her.

  ‘Wrong every time,’ the Major announced cheerfully, ‘but there’s a method to our madness. Let’s try it again. There’s a picture in this envelope. We asked you what you saw. Do you remember what you said?’

  ‘A ladder.’

  ‘Ah. Now clear your mind. No more ladder. Tell me, what kind of lines do you see?’

  ‘Straight,’ Zee said without hesitation. ‘Long. Vertical. But not quite parallel. Closer together at the top than the bottom.’

  ‘Colours?’

  ‘Mmm. Grey. Like metal or stone. But there’s white between the grey lines. Something . . . a cloud?’

  ‘Don’t think specific objects, just their properties.’

  Zee nodded and tried again. ‘Something light. Not just a light colour. Light – airy.’

  The Major slid the envelope across to her. ‘Have a look.’

  Zee pulled out the picture. ‘Wow.’ Every element she’d named was there. Only her conclusion that it was a ladder was wrong. The two long grey lines, closer together at the top than the bottom turned out to be the rocky sides of a waterfall. The lightness she’d misread as space between the steps was a misty fall of white water.

  ‘You just went from an F on this to an A-grade candidate. Interested?’

  Zee hadn’t felt such a rush of excitement since her early training as an empath. ‘When can I start training?’

  ‘You more or less just did. We train by putting you on actual assignments, working with a large team. Since it’s more or less volunteer, the schedule is flexible. I do have one warning, though.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘If you’re in this for the perks, the tuna salad and Branston pickle are as good as it gets. Other than that, you have the chance to do a great deal of good here. See those data storage units? The first is correspondence from parents of missing children we’ve managed to locate. The next is anarchist attacks averted. The rest is miscellaneous – hostages freed, stolen art masterpieces located, missing top secret documents, stolen weapons.’ He reached across his desk and clasped her hand. ‘Welcome.’

  By the time she got to Rani’s room at the residence hall, laden with takeaway bags of artichoke pasta and garlic bread, Zee was mentally exhausted. There was nothing she wanted more than to sit on Rani’s sofa and watch her friend set out bowls, silverware, soft drinks and grated cheese, listening to Rani’s running commentary about a patient she’d had that day who not only wanted Rani to work with her but with her pet ferret in ‘group sessions’. The patient had diabetes and insisted that the ferret, though perfectly healthy, had a tendency to ‘be an enabler’ where sweets were concerned.

  ‘How is that possible?’ Zee asked, laughing. ‘It’s not like the ferret is popping out to the shops for Maltesers.’

  ‘That’s where you’d be wrong,’ Rani said, bringing the bowls to the sofa and handing Zee one. ‘According to my patient, the ferret has a subscription to Chocolate of the Month Club.’

  They tucked their feet up and slurped the pasta. They used to have evenings like this all the time when they were students, and had taken them for granted. Now Zee looked back on those times as special and saw that they would become more and more rare, as each of them were claimed by other people and other demands.

  As if reading her thoughts, Rani set her empty bowl aside and said, ‘So. I agreed to meet that boy my Auntie Meera has been talking about. The one who is coming to England this autumn, to start at the London School of Economics.’

  ‘What’s this? Are you becoming the good Hindu girl you swore you’d never be?’ Zee couldn’t imagine anything less Rani-like than an arranged meeting.

  Rani shrugged. ‘I suppose it’s inevitable.’ She dipped her head but could not hide her half smile. ‘Besides, he sent me his picture and a long letter. Both were very charming.’

  ‘Especially the picture?’ Zee guessed.

  ‘Something like that.’ Rani giggled. ‘He has navy-blue eyes. It’s true! I think he must have an English grandparent or something.’

  Zee drew a deep breath. Now was as good a time as any. ‘Speaking of boys, I have a favour to ask you. But it’s, um, a little bit dodgy, so promise you’ll say no if you don’t want to do it.’

  Rani raised her eyebrows. ‘Zee McAdams breaking the rules? I like it already.’

  ‘I need to see David. Even if he’s right that it’s too dangerous for us to keep seeing each other. I need to know he really means it. And I don’t even know where he lives in London. He never gave me his address.’

  ‘And that’s where I come in?’

  Zee nodded. ‘Do you hate the whole idea?’

  ‘Why would I?’

  ‘Because he’s an alien. Because just the other day you said, “I can’t imagine getting that upset over a boy”.’

  Rani looked wounded. ‘That’s right, Zee, I said I – I can’t imagine. But that doesn’t mean it’s wrong for you. Maybe I think it’s kind of cool that you can thro
w yourself into it like that. Maybe I’d like to feel that way about someone sometime.’

  Zee had spoken too harshly and was sorry. Before she could say anything, Rani went on graciously, ‘Now, tell me what the plan is.’

  ‘Are you still working A&E shifts? That first night he was brought in, I’m sure they must have looked at his papers and done a standard admittance. But that patient privacy firewall is impenetrable. You can’t get into it without a doctor’s PIN.’

  Rani grinned. ‘No problem. There’s a new intern there who claims he’d do anything for a date with me. Let’s let him prove it.’

  ‘You don’t mind? Dating this guy just to get me that address?’

  ‘Oh, I was going to go out with him anyway,’ Rani said. ‘This will just make it all the more special for him.’

  ‘Wouldn’t it be more special if he knew you were going out with him because you like him?’

  Rani gave an exasperated sigh. ‘You really don’t know anything about men, do you, Zee?’

  Rani had the address within forty-eight hours, and Zee spent every free minute of the next few days watching an unobtrusive building on a moderately busy north London street. Fortunately, there was a bus stop across the way, so she could hide herself in the waiting queue. It wasn’t until early evening of the third day that she saw Mia sweeping down the street, her rapid walk and waterfall of glossy hair unmistakable. Zee hurried to catch her before she disappeared inside the building.

  ‘Mia? Please, I need to talk to you.’

  Mia turned. Several steps ahead of Zee, she looked down from a commanding height. Not unlike a falcon, Zee thought, or a hawk. Wearing black leather head to toe.

  ‘It’s Zee, do you remember me?’

  ‘Of course I do. It’s not everyone who bleeds all over my best Jinx and Jeremiah suede boots.’

  ‘Sorry. Can I talk to you for a second?’ Even when Mia came down the steps to her level, she still towered over Zee. ‘I need to see David.’

  ‘He apparently didn’t think so.’

  ‘I know. But I have to see him. One more time. Please, wherever he is, tell me. No matter where.’

  ‘They were putting together another research team, and he volunteered for it.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘He asked me not to tell you.’

  ‘Only because he thinks it’s dangerous for me. You know that’s the only reason.’

  As swiftly as if she were reaching for a gun, Mia reached into the pocket of her leather jacket, drew out a pen and notepad, and scribbled something on it. ‘I’m only doing this because I know he’s miserable without you. But David’s like a brother to me. If you put him in danger or harm him in any way – and I’m including a broken heart in that – I will find you and hurt you back. Just so you know.’

  ‘I would never hurt David,’ Zee answered. ‘I love him.’ She took the scrap of paper Mia handed her. ‘Prambanan? Where’s that?’

  ‘On Java, Indonesia. Bit of a religious war going on there. Hindus and Muslims. Should be fun. And you’re still going, aren’t you?’

  Zee nodded.

  ‘You two and your love,’ Mia said, turning to head back up the stairs. ‘You’ll get us all killed.’

  CHAPTER 13

  HOME

  Zee tuned out the flight attendant’s advice on steps to take in the event of an ‘unplanned structural breach’ during the sub-orbital part of the flight. There wasn’t much you could do in a .01 atmosphere, so what was the point? Besides, the trip had come together so much faster than Zee expected, she had plenty of other things to think about. Like what, exactly, would she say to David when she saw him? What if he really didn’t want to see her ever again? What if he finished his research before she got there and returned to Omura, as Mia said he might?

  These possibilities made a mere breach in the body of the aircraft seem almost trivial. To calm herself, Zee touched the gold chain on her neck, with its decoration of three perfect diamonds. Or, more accurately, perfect faux diamonds.

  Zee had gone first to her adviser when planning her trip. Since the burnout rate for empaths was high, Zee and her colleagues were encouraged to take breaks when needed, at short notice, and even given a small annual travel stipend. Zee had seldom used hers, and her adviser was delighted that she was at last going to. Major Dawson also pushed aside Zee’s concerns about interrupting her training period.

  ‘Prambanan!’ he said, eyes lighting up. ‘Damned fine choice! Mystical place, close to the spirit of things.’

  Until that moment, Zee had assumed that Prambanan was a city, or perhaps a suburb of Yogyakarta, where Jasmine lived. Major Dawson told her Prambanan was a fourteen-hundred-year-old Hindu temple, more or less in the middle of a jungle. Zee had spent the next several hours wondering how on Earth she’d get there until an email from Jasmine assured her it was only ten miles from Yogyakarta, with buses every hour.

  Zee had dreaded telling Mrs Hart most of all. She couldn’t imagine leaving the older woman for two weeks, even with her daughters and a barrage of home attendants looking after her.

  ‘I won’t go if you don’t want me to,’ she’d volunteered.

  ‘Don’t be silly, dear.’ Mrs Hart had leaned forward and put her hand over Zee’s. ‘I know you’re afraid I’ll shuffle off while you’re gone, but you needn’t be. Why, I wouldn’t think of dying before I know how things turn out between you and your young man. And they do have a way of turning out, you know, no matter how bleak things may look. My life is proof of that. So you go ahead and follow your heart. I’ll be around when you get back.’

  As she’d spoken, she’d unclasped the necklace she was wearing and poured the thin golden chain with its trio of diamonds into Zee’s hand. ‘Take this for luck, Zee. It hasn’t looked good on me for twenty-five years anyway. It needs a young throat. And young dreams.’

  ‘Oh no, I couldn’t —’

  ‘Come now, dear. Of course you can. They’re only fakes, as you know, but my good wishes for you are real, and I’ll feel better if I know it’s with you.’

  So Zee had taken the necklace, and now was glad Mrs Hart had insisted. Each time she touched it, she remembered Mrs Hart wishing her well.

  Still, she was glad she wasn’t going directly from London to Java. When she’d told her parents she was planning to visit Jasmine in Indonesia, it had taken no time at all to detect the disappointment in their voices. Realising that they’d hoped she was calling to announce a trip home, Zee felt a pang of guilt mixed with true homesickness. ‘So I was wondering if I could stop and see you on my way,’ she added quickly. ‘It’s been a long time since I was home.’

  It had been a long time. Almost four years, in fact, since she’d made the trip, as her family usually visited her in London. And when she arrived, it was a bit of a shock to find that the place she’d thought of all this time as home no longer felt like home to her. The house seemed large, after London spaces, and less cosy. Opening the door to her room, which she’d felt so sad to leave, was like stumbling into the room of a child she might once have known. It took her a minute to remember the music groups whose posters were on the walls.

  ‘Why didn’t you take this room when I moved out?’ she asked her little sister. ‘It’s bigger than yours.’

  ‘I know but Mom said we had to keep it for you.’

  ‘Well, you don’t have to keep it any more. Why don’t we fix it up for you while I’m here?’

  Bex’s eyes lit up. ‘Can we paint?’

  ‘Sure. We can get paint tomorrow.’

  ‘But Mom and Dad —’

  ‘Don’t worry about Mom and Dad. I’ll talk to them, it’ll be okay.’ Zee grinned. ‘Start thinking of colours.’ Over the past year, Bex had lost her formless, bean-shaped look. Her legs were longer and her bright red hair was growing darker and glossier, just as Zee’s had at about that age.

  She waited until Bex went to bed to take up the subject with her parents. ‘It’s just not fair to Bex,’ she began. ‘It’s
like you’re telling her I deserve the room more even though I’m not here.’

  ‘But it’s your room,’ her mother said. ‘What if you come back here to live? It would be like we’d gotten rid of you.’

  Zee didn’t have the heart to tell her parents she was pretty sure her future, wherever it took her, didn’t lie there. ‘If I come back,’ she said, ‘we’ll do what we did when we were kids – we’ll draw for it.’

  She saw that her parents weren’t convinced. When had this started? They both acted like any change was a threat. Earlier, her father had told her that the neo-hippie group they’d been part of for so many years had fallen apart. And, as Zee could see without being told, his faith in the aliens had turned to disappointment over the years. No wonder he seemed at a loose end! Zee hadn’t had many – any, really – boyfriends when she lived at home, and she’d wanted to tell them more about David. She’d even thought that hearing how David had helped during the anarchists’ attacks might restore some of her father’s faith in the aliens, but he hadn’t seemed to care one way or another.

  ‘Why don’t we make a family project of it, the way we used to?’ she said. ‘I’m here for three days and if we all pitch in, we can switch the rooms and give Bex something really special.’

  And that’s just what they did for the next few days. Her father seemed to shake off all his disappointments and throw himself into creating a screen wall for Bex, who had turned into a techno geek and had now established a worldwide student news network. Zee and her mother moved furniture while Bex tested various shades of illuminating blue paint on the walls.

  ‘I want something that won’t interfere with my glasses,’ she explained.

  ‘Glasses?’ Zee asked in surprise. No one had worn glasses for their eyesight for over a hundred and fifty years. ‘Is that a new fad?’

  ‘No, these,’ Bex said, handing Zee what looked like a gamer’s headset with an extra large eye shield. ‘Try them on.’