by Amy Cross
She paused. “Yes,” she said finally. “Maybe a little of all those things.”
“You've seen some things since you became my apprentice,” he continued, leaning back in his chair. “Ghosts in the Thames, they were real. A headless monk in Whitechapel, tormenting the Bannister family, that was real. A talking raven at the Tower of London, even that was real, and we're lucky it was so bad at chess. But tell me, Katie, given that your definition of what's possible must have expanded lately, do you believe that angels might be real? Would you add them to that particular list of wonders?”
“Well...”
“I mean, there has to be a limit, doesn't there? Just because ghosts and goblins are real, you can't assume it's open season and every fantastical beast exists. Like unicorns, or -” He paused. “Well, bad example, but you know what I mean.”
“I'm really not sure,” she replied.
“Remember, you're opening a very big kettle of fish if you say yes,” he added. “If angels are real, then where do you draw the line in terms of religious elements? Demons? Heaven? God? By their very definition, if angels exist, so does all that other stuff in the Bible, so tread very carefully with your answer, Katie. You might accidentally announce yourself as a girl of faith.”
“I know we have a photo that looks like an angel,” she replied.
“Good. Continue.”
“And I know that some other people believe in them.”
“Continue.”
“And I know it can't be a coincidence. If angels don't exist, then someone's trying to make it seem otherwise.”
“For what purpose?”
“To scare people?”
“Then why not make more of a fuss? Why vaporize the only witnesses?”
“Because they...” She paused, before finally admitting: “I'm out. I don't know.”
“Let me show you something,” he continued, opening a desk drawer and taking out a pack of cards, which he placed on the desk. “A little thought experiment, if you will, but it might help you understand the situation a little better. See that pack? It's unopened, never been used, even the plastic wrapper is still in place. See?
She nodded.
“So pick a card. Any card.”
Pausing, she cautiously reached out to the pack.
“Not with your hands,” he told her, reaching out and pushing her hand away. “With your mind. Just pick a card with your mind and think about it. And don't tell me what it is.”
“Okay.” She stared at the pack. “Done.”
“Seven of diamonds,” he replied quickly.
Her eyes opened full-wide with shock.
“I was right, wasn't it?” he asked, smiling with a faint twitch on the left side of his face.
“How did you do that?”
“The whole point is that you have to explain it.”
“But it's impossible! Unless you... I mean, unless you read my mind...”
He stared at her for a moment. “Does it scare you? The idea that perhaps I can read your mind? I mean, if I can tell what card you're thinking about, what else can I tell about your thoughts? The boy-band member you badmouth in public but secretly think about a lot? The book that everyone loves but you hate? Your irrational hatred of people dressed as cats, which by the way is not hatred but fear?”
“That's impossible,” she said firmly. “No-one can do that!”
“I just did.”
“No, you... It's a trick.”
“Is it?”
“It has to be!”
“Then explain it!”
She paused, before looking back down at the pack of cards. “Do it again.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don't need to. I gave you all the information you need in order to solve the thing and explain how I knew your card. If I did it two hundred times in a row, you'd be no closer to understanding. You just need to think about it the right way.”
Reaching down, she picked up the pack of cards.
“Take them away,” he continued .”Poke them. Try to work it out. Let me know when you've figured it out.”
“What does this have to do with the angel?” she asked, looking down at the laptop screens. “Or whatever it is.”
“Everything and nothing,” he replied. “I wanted you to understand that even if you can't explain something, that doesn't mean you should stop trying or that you should take it at face value. You might think that I read your mind just now, but I didn't, so don't be lazy and just assume that something impossible happened. Similarly, whatever attacked the man in that church and destroyed the front of that underground train, it did a very good job of looking like an angel, but we must keep digging, because I will tell you one thing right now. Angels do not exist. Period.”
Looking at the screen for a moment, Katie finally turned her attention to the pack of cards. Fiddling with the plastic wrapper, she looked for some kind of hole, but the pack seemed completely sealed.
“I'll solve this,” she said finally, with a hint of frustration but also determination in her voice. “I don't know how, and I don't know when, but I will solve it!”
“I'm sure you will. And while you're at it...” Picking up the bone he'd swiped from the safe a few hours earlier, he held it out to her. “Take this to my lock-up, will you? It doesn't matter where you put it, as long as you can find it again later. I'm sure you'll be able to make sense of my filing system when you get there.”
Staring at the bone for a moment, she seemed reluctant to take it before finally grimacing a little and reaching out. Once the bone was in her hand, she turned it around, examining it for a few seconds.
“Is that -”
“Organic material? Yes, most likely.”
“So you could -”
“Yes. Technically, one could perform D.N.A. analysis, but that's not high on my list of priorities right now. Stick it in the lock-up and then come back. By then I should have gone through this book and come up with a few ideas. I feel as if I was rather manic this morning, so I need to calm down and find a way to settle my thoughts. Maybe I'll finally give meditation a try.”
With the bone in one hand and the pack of cards in the other, Katie muttered something under her breath as she turned and made her way to the door, passing a frowning Quix who seemed troubled by the exchange she'd just overheard. Once Katie was out of the room, Quix looked over at Robinson and stared as he opened the book.
“I know you're looking at me,” he said after a few minutes had passed. “What's wrong?”
She frowned.
“If you're annoyed by the card trick,” he continued, not looking up from the book, “there's no need. It's completely harmless, and to be honest I think she's more than smart enough to figure it out. It's remarkably simple if you just think about it the right way, and she has all the information she needs. Remember when I first explained it to you? You wouldn't admit it, but I could tell you were impressed.” He turned to another page in the book, before finally glancing at Quix.
She stared at him.
“What?” he asked. “Is it the bone, is that what you're annoyed about? It's nothing, it's just a piece of some old body that a bunch of fools mistook for an angel. And I didn't steal it for no reason, I stole it because I think it might be useful and because if I'd left it at the cathedral, someone else would've gone after it!”
She stared at him.
“Quix, really...” He sighed. “The whole reason I asked you to fetch this book was so that I can get to the bottom of the matter as quickly as possible. Just because we can rule out angels, that doesn't mean there isn't something of interest occurring and I fully intend to discover the truth, and I'd appreciate it if you'd refrain from interrupting. I was sidetracked the last time this happened, I will not be defeated again.” He looked back down at the book again and tried to concentrate, before sitting back in his chair. He tried a couple more positions, none of which seemed to work, before finally turning to her again. “Do
you have to stare so loudly?”
She stared at him.
“I know it's a little harsh on the girl,” he continued, clearly exasperated, “but Katie's smart and she's already one of the best apprentices I've ever had, and she's lasted longer than most of them! It's not exactly a cushy job and there are certain risks, but I actually think I've been very good at keeping her out of harm's way. I learned from what happened to the last few and I've adjusted her curriculum accordingly. I actually thought you might give me some credit for that!”
She stared at him.
Closing the book, he got to his feet. “Well,” he continued, carrying the book with him as he headed to the door, “I can tell that you're not going to leave me alone, so I shall leave my own office and find somewhere more peaceful to work. A creche, perhaps, or a museum at half-term.” Stopping by the door, he turned to her. “I really think you should get off my back about this, though. Standing there, staring at me like you're so superior... Katie had nowhere else to go, I had to let her come and work with us, and I know you like her too, I can see it in your eyes! She's smart, she's useful, and I happen to believe that she'll have no trouble surviving whatever comes out way.”
She stared at him.
“Oh... shut up!” he hissed, before storming out of the office.
Left alone for a moment, Quix frowned before turning back to the bookshelf.
***
“The 14.10 service to Orpington has been replaced by a bus service that departs from the main entrance.”
Stopping outside Victoria train station, Katie tucked her satchel under her arm and started to search through her pockets, hunting for a few coins. Finding a couple of fifty pence pieces, she made her way over to the phone booth and slipped inside, before taking a scrap of paper from her back pocket and propping it up so she could read the number she'd jotted down earlier.
She took a deep breath, trying to summon the courage to make the call.
“Okay,” she whispered, “just... Just do it. There's no need to be weird. Say what you've got to say, get it over with, and then it's done.”
Picking up the receiver, she slipped the first coin into the slot and dialed, before waiting as she heard a clicking sound, followed by the number ringing. Taking a deep breath, she considered hanging up before deciding to wait a little longer, a back-and-forth debate that raged continually for several frantic seconds, during which she began to feel a cold sweat breaking out on the back of her neck. She kept telling herself that it was crazy to be so nervous, but at the same time she couldn't stop worrying that she was opening a can of worms.
“Don't answer,” she muttered to herself. “Don't, just don't notice your phone, that way -”
“Hello?” a female voice answered suddenly.
“Hi!” Katie blurted out, her heart suddenly racing as she realized it was too late. She waited a moment, wondering whether she hadn't been recognizable, in which case she might still be able to back out. “Hey, it's... Um, it's me!”
Silence on the other end.
“It's... me,” she said again.
“Sorry? Who's that? I think it's a bad connection.”
“It's, er... It's Katie. Katie Banks. I'm calling from London.” She waited for a reply, for some hint of recognition, perhaps a squeal of joy. “Remember me?” she asked finally. Having hoped a moment ago that she'd have been forgotten, now she suddenly felt sad at the idea.
“Katie,” Marie replied, “yeah, my God, that's a blast from the past! How long has it been?”
“A few months.”
“Where the hell did you get to? Everyone was totally worried about you!”
“Yeah, I'm fine, I just...” She paused, twirling the cord between her fingers. “I had to get away, you know? I had to do it fast, and I didn't want you guys to think I'd forgotten about you, or to think anything had happened, or...”
“I called your Mum a while back,” Marie said. “She thought you'd gone to stay with your sister, but I think she had trouble getting in touch with either of you.”
“Yeah, that didn't really work out.”
“So are you with Rachel now?”
“No, but I'm okay, I just...” Turning, she looked out of the phone booth and watched for a moment as hundreds of commuters rushed in and out of the train station. “I'm working in the city, actually.”
“You got a job?”
“Kind of. Well, yeah...”
“You lucky little bugger! Doing what?”
“Oh...” She stared at her satchel, thinking of the bone inside and trying to imagine how Marie would react if she knew even one tenth of the truth. “Cataloging stuff.”
“Who do you work for?”
“It's a private arrangement.”
“How did you swing that?”
“It's complicated.”
“Are you being mysterious on purpose?”
“No,” Katie replied, allowing herself a faint smile as she realized that all her old school friends might actually start gossiping about her. After all, no-one from their group had ever managed to move away and make a life in London. “I just can't talk about it, that's all. I've... signed things.”
“Cool. So when are you coming back?”
“I...” She paused as she felt a cold shiver pass through her body. “I'm not, actually. That's what I called to let you know. Can you tell everyone else from the old group that... Tell them I'm sorry I didn't get to say bye, but I'm fine and I'm staying here for now, probably forever. I've got a lot to do.”
“Have you called your parents?” Marie asked. “I think they're kinda worried about you.”
“That's nice for them,” she muttered. “No, I'll call them some other time.”
“You should. I know things have been difficult between you and them, but -”
Suddenly the phone started beeping, and Katie saw that she only had ten seconds left. She reached up to put the second fifty pence piece into the slot, but at the last moment she held back. Another coin would mean another two minutes of conversation, and she figured she'd said enough already. Besides, she liked the idea of being mysterious.
“Gotta go,” she said finally. “Just tell the others I'm fine and -”
Before she could finish, the call cut off.
“Tell them I'm fine,” she continued with a sigh, “and everything's cool. Tell them I'm working for a madman and that ghosts are real and that my sister's dead.”
Setting the receiver back onto the cradle, she briefly considered making another call, just to let her parents know that she was okay. After a moment's hesitation, however, she slipped the coin into her pocket and grabbed the satchel, before hurrying out of the booth and joining the crowd of people making their way past the station and along toward Buckingham Palace Road. She liked crowds; crowds were a way of getting lost, of joining the rivers of people flowing through the city streets.
High up on the roof of a nearby building, a solitary figure stood watching her, but its eyes were fixed not on Katie herself but on the satchel she was carrying over her shoulder.
Chapter Six
“She looks good,” Hanson said as he stood on the gangway, looking down at the body floating in a large vat of chemicals. “Her figures so far are better than anything we've seen before.”
“Amino acid build-up is a little high,” Doctor Leach pointed out, standing next to him. “I hope that isn't going to be a problem, it'll mainly affect the wing growth if it is, but I can try to adjust the volume as we go along. I have almost minute-by-minute control if it comes to that.”
“Keep an eye on it,” Hanson replied, “but I'm not too worried. If the amino acid concentration is our only problem, then I think we can consider ourselves to have succeeded beyond our wildest dreams. For now, anyway. We must keep raising our expectations higher.” He turned to her. “Do you remember the first time? The first abomination?”
“By this point, she was already a complete mess.”
“The second and third weren't much be
tter.”
“We've come a long way.”
“But there's still a long way to go,” Hanson added. “The closer we get to perfection, the more difficult it'll be to make gains. It's that final one per cent that could take a long time to crack.”
Below them, in the vat, Meg's naked body floated several inches beneath the surface of the gel-like mixture of chemicals that were keeping her body in a perfect state. Various wires ran from nearby computers, dipping into the gel and connecting to sections of the girl's skin, while a faint lattice-like structure extended from two nodes on her back, floating gently in the gel as cells grew in the framework. A little further down, a thin metal grid was attached to her wrists and ankles, providing light support.
“Can she hear us?” Hanson asked after a moment.
“Impossible to tell,” Doctor Leach replied. “If she can, she has no way of letting us know, and by the time she can speak...” She paused for a moment, seemingly uneasy about something. “I don't want to be the one who raises problems all the time, but I feel I have to point out that we've thought things were going well with previous subjects, only for last-minute problems to get in the way. We still haven't located Subject B, he could be anywhere and without a body to examine or dissect, I can't draw any firm conclusions.”
“He's dead,” Hanson said firmly.
“With all due respect, you don't know that.”
“You saw the state he was in,” Hanson continued. “How the hell could anything last more than a few hours with its body breaking down so rapidly? I doubt he got more than half a mile from the facility, and now he's probably rotting in some nice, quiet little corner. By the time someone finds him, there'll be nothing left but a gelatinous husk of flesh and bone.” He paused. “Still, I want a tracker installed this time. I don't think for one moment that we'll have any problems, but just to be on the safe side, we need to be able to locate the subject. After all, we don't want Subject C going the same way as Subject B, now do we?”
“But if -”
“I have to go,” he added, as his watch began to emit a sudden, urgent beeping sound. “Subject A will be wanting an update.”
