Wei-Lin was impressed and excited when Pan handed the watch over.
‘Wow,’ she said. ‘There is no way you could have found that by chance. I mean, I hid it really carefully. Jeez, Pan.’
‘Or maybe she saw you hiding it,’ said Jen. She stood a few metres away, her hands on her hips. ‘Wouldn’t be too hard, then.’
‘She didn’t,’ said Wei-Lin. ‘I was watching. She didn’t even look in my direction.’
‘Yeah, right,’ said Jen. ‘Like you could have been watching her all the time. You had to take your eyes away at some point to hide the watch in the first place.’
‘Maybe that’s it,’ said Pan. ‘Just a trick, right Jen? Or Wei-Lin and I are in it together.’
Jen didn’t take her eyes from Pan’s.
‘She said it.’
There was silence. Wei-Lin glanced from Pan to Jen and back again. A momentary break in the cloud cover caused the sun to wash over them. Somewhere, far off, a bird shrieked.
Then Nate appeared from the hut and jogged towards them. Everyone turned to wait for his arrival. They are turning from confrontation, thought Pan, and that’s okay with me.
‘Hey,’ said Nate as he slowed and stopped before them. ‘What’s this guys? A time-out?’ He looked around the running track and gave a theatrical sigh. ‘Woeful progress, guys, if you don’t mind me saying so. Really woeful.’
‘What did Miss Kingston want with you?’ asked Jen. ‘Did she rip you a new one?’
Nate grinned.
‘Nah. She’s a pussy cat. Actually, if you really want to know, she persuaded me to team up with her for my elective. The skill training.’ He winked. ‘But if you want my opinion, I think that’s just a ruse. The woman is hot for me and who can blame her?’
‘So what’s the skill?’ asked Karl? ‘Sexual magnetism?’
‘Well, she said she detected leadership skills in me, but I reckon you’re right, Karl, old buddy.’ His grin broadened. ‘It radiates from me, doesn’t it? I give it less than a day before she tries to jump my bones.’
Jen snorted and turned away. The rest laughed. Even Sanjit laughed. Cara gave a thin smile, and that too was progress. Maybe we can bond as a group, thought Pan. If I can just mend this rift with Jen.
Nate looked from face to face.
‘So what’s going on here?’
Wei-Lin explained how Pan had found her watch. Nate whistled.
‘Thanks a bunch, guys. As soon as my back is turned, freaky shit happens and I miss it. Couldn’t you have waited until I got back?’ He turned to Pan and spread his arms. ‘I want to see this. Will you do it again for me?’
‘There is something you’ve misplaced, Nate,’ said Pan, ‘but I’m afraid there’s no chance I’ll be able to find it.’
‘Oh, yeah? And what might that be?’
‘Your sexual magnetism.’
This time, even Cara laughed.
Chapter 10
At four-thirty, Jen, Nate and Wei-Lin prepared to go to their personal development sessions.
‘You are the newest of the student body,’ Wei-Lin said to the rest of them, ‘so that will give you some leeway. But I can’t stress enough that you need to find something within the next day or so. Remember, the septic tanks await if you don’t.’
‘What do you do?’ asked Sam.
‘Me?’ Wei-Lin smiled. ‘Archery, of course. Actually, I run a group that has shown some ability in that area.’
‘An instructor, huh?’
‘Yeah. I’m so important. Anyway. Cara, maybe you should go to the canteen and offer your services. Sam and Karl . . . hell, I don’t know. Find something, okay? You too, Pan and Sanjit. I’m serious.’
But Pan couldn’t think of anything. Karl and Sam set off together to explore what courses were on offer and Pan thought about asking if she could tag along. A fifth wheel, she thought. Karl and Sam deserved privacy. Pan didn’t want to spoil any chance of a romance before it had time to develop. Cara wandered off listlessly. Sanjit walked away without a word and Pan was left on her own.
She ran through options in her head. Sure, she had intuition, but that wasn’t an activity she could easily practise. She couldn’t fight and she certainly wasn’t gifted in any kind of physical activity. Pan wasn’t sure if there were any academic activities that she could become involved in. Maybe Professor Goldberg could help. Then again, Professor Goldberg didn’t strike her as the kind of person from whom she could get a straight answer. Maybe the septic tanks would have to do. How difficult could it be? Mindless physical labour, true. And extremely smelly. Perhaps that wasn’t such a great idea.
Her thoughts turned to Tom and the falcon. Was that even a program, or something he simply did in his spare time? Pan wasn’t sure, but she had nothing else to do, so she went searching. She retraced her steps to the clearing where he had been practising the previous night, but there was no sign of him. In the distance she could see groups of students pairing up for weapons practice. Everyone appeared to have a purpose – everyone apart from her. It made her feel useless.
To hell with it, she thought. The septic tanks must be better than feeling like this.
The voice shouting her name was so distant it took her a moment to realise she was being called. Pan stopped and turned.
It was Nate, running effortlessly towards her. She waited, aware that her heart was beating faster than normal. Or was that simply her imagination? Nate was physically attractive, there was no doubt about that. And he was very self-assured. But there was something else.
‘Yo, Pan,’ said Nate as he drew alongside her.
What are you hiding? she thought. The question surprised her.
‘Now I know you’re stalking me,’ she said. ‘Miss Kingston is about to jump your bones and yet you’re running after me.’
‘She’s playing hard to get,’ Nate replied. ‘Anyway, I have a message for you.’
‘For me?’
‘Yup.’ He offered her a piece of paper, neatly folded. ‘So, you see, I’m simply a messenger boy. Miss Kingston was thrilled. “Get back here in five minutes,” she said. “Think you can run that fast, Mr Mitchell?” I love a challenge. So, here it is.’ He looked at his watch. ‘I have slightly less than two minutes to make it back. I’d hate to give her the satisfaction of being late.’ He looked at his watch again. ‘One minute, fifty seconds, and counting.’
Pan opened the slip of paper.
Please come and see me in the Infirmary at your earliest possible convenience. Best wishes, Dr Morgan.
‘What is it?’ Nate was bouncing up and down on his toes. Pan would swear that his muscles were protesting at the lack of action, demanding movement.
‘It’s a note from Dr Morgan,’ said Pan. ‘He wants to see me.’
‘Okay,’ said Nate. ‘I’ll run with you. Come on.’
‘What, now?’
‘As our fearless weapons instructor might say, “What are you waiting for? Do you have an appointment at the hairdresser?”’
‘You only have one minute to get back to Miss Kingston,’ Pan pointed out. ‘You’ll be late.’
‘Actually, fifty-five seconds, so I’m going to be late anyway. Hey. Pandora Jones, enough already. Let’s run.’
He took off without waiting for a reply. Pan watched his back for a moment, sighed and started running after him. Almost immediately, her breathing became laboured and she knew she couldn’t begin to match his speed.
‘Not so fast, Nate,’ she called.
Nate laughed. ‘This is not fast, Pandora. This is tortoise pace. Come on. You can do it.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Save your breath,’ Nate called over his shoulder. ‘You’ll need it for those steps.’
Oh, God, thought Pan. The steps to the Infirmary.
‘I’ll pace you,’ Nate added. ‘Keep focused on your breathing. Get that right, and the muscles will follow. You’ll get through the lactic acid build-up. Provided you don’t stop, that is.’
It di
d become easier. Nate ran a few metres in front of her and she matched her rhythm to his. Within moments, the nagging stitch in her side eased. Her breathing became more regular. It was still hard, but now the cliff face was getting appreciably nearer. Pan kept her eyes fixed on the side of the cliff, where she knew the steps to the summit started.
When they got there, Pan wanted to rest, perhaps lie down for a few minutes before starting the ascent. Her body was aching and her legs felt like they had heavy weights attached to them.
‘Don’t stop,’ warned Nate. ‘Go straight up. Keep your breathing rhythm. Push through the pain. I have to go.’ He looked at his watch and laughed. ‘I’m going to be so late and the Princess will be pissed. I’ll have to plumb the deepest recesses of my charm.’
Pan had no breath for thanks. She was aware of him wheeling around and heading back down the path. The steps loomed in front of her, carved out of the cliff side. They seemed impossibly steep and an image flashed through her mind of getting halfway up the steps and then tumbling off the side. She didn’t want to die just trying to keep an appointment.
Pan pushed the thoughts aside, and started up the steps.
~~~
Dr Morgan was waiting in Reception. There was a twinkle in his eye as Pan pushed open the doors and staggered the last few steps.
‘Looks like The School has been pushing you hard, Pandora,’ he said with a grin. Pan couldn’t answer. Her lungs were on fire. She crouched over, hands on knees, and fought the urge to vomit.
‘You need to do your warm-down exercises, my dear,’ the doctor added. ‘I’m sure the redoubtable Miss Kingston has shown you how. Come on, stretch and pull those muscles before they seize up. This is the clinician in me speaking.’ He chuckled.
It was almost as much agony to do the exercises, but after a few minutes, Pan at least felt partly in control of her body. Dr Morgan brought her a large glass of water. When she’d finally recovered enough to walk without her legs giving way, she followed him back to the same conference room they had talked in only a few days before.
Pan sat and sipped at her water.
‘Thank you for responding so promptly to my request for a meeting.’ He glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘It’s nearly five-thirty. Halfway through the personal development session. Now, a little bird told me you haven’t yet chosen your skill area to develop. Is that correct, my dear?’
Pan nodded. ‘I don’t think I have a gift to develop, Doctor,’ she said. ‘Though I’ve been reminded that they are always looking for someone to clear out the septic tanks.’
‘How appalling,’ Morgan said. ‘To my mind that would be a waste, if you’ll forgive the pun. In fact, I’d go so far as to say you’d be simply going through the motions.’ He laughed at his own joke. Pan smiled and drummed her fingers on the side of the chair. The doctor put his own hands flat on the table.
‘I have a proposal for you, Pan,’ he said, leaning forward. ‘I would like to work with you on a skill that I have reason to believe you possess. It’s also a field I have a personal interest in. Something I worked on, purely as an amateur, you understand, before the virus. It would be tremendously satisfying for me to take up my studies again in that area. If you agree, of course.’ He tilted his head to one side and smiled.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘I’m talking about your gift of intuition,’ said Morgan. ‘I understand you gave a very impressive demonstration of it this very afternoon.’
Had he been watching? thought Pan. Or did someone tell him?
‘How did you know about that?’ she asked.
Morgan tapped the side of his nose with an index finger.
‘I have my ways,’ he chuckled. ‘You’ll learn that very little goes on in The School that I don’t find out about. I have my finger on the pulse in more ways than one, my dear.’
‘I’m afraid you might be disappointed, Doctor,’ said Pan. ‘And I suspect I’m better employed at the septic tanks.’
Morgan continued as if Pan hadn’t spoken.
‘I would need a commitment of two hours a day and I would like to conduct a series of tests, first of all to determine whether you actually do have some intuitive gift. Should that prove to be the case, then I have some ideas as to how we could improve and hone that skill.’ He smiled. ‘To be honest, I’m excited at the prospects, Pan. Enormously excited.’
‘Look, Dr Morgan, I can understand that you might be enthusiastic if this has been a hobby of yours, but don’t you think we might both use our time better? Something more . . . practical?’
‘No, no. Listen to me, Pandora.’ Morgan was very earnest. ‘This could be of enormous benefit to The School. And not just The School. In the long term, the very future of humanity.’
Pan laughed. ‘Forgive me, but that seems ludicrous. I can find stuff that’s been lost, Dr Morgan. Sometimes. If it’s a skill at all, it’s a very modest one.’
‘I disagree. Think about it, Pan. You talk about finding “stuff”, but if you have the ability to do that, then it’s reasonable to assume that locating lost items is only one application of your ability. Who knows what you might be capable of? And as far as the future of humanity is concerned, whether you like it or not, you are now part of a very restricted gene pool. Can such gifts be passed on to the next generation? My research suggests that this is a distinct possibility. What if, in succeeding generations, clairvoyance becomes a natural ability? A whole world that could communicate through thought transference, for example. A world that, at the very least, uses much more of its brain than, unfortunately, we do at the moment. You could be the next step in our evolution, Pan. I’m serious, my dear. From Homo sapiens to . . . well, whatever follows.’
‘You’re suggesting I could be a breeding machine for super people?’ Pan said. ‘Do you have any idea how creepy, how insane that sounds? If it was possible, which of course it isn’t.’
Morgan smiled. ‘You misunderstand. Anyway, this is all academic until we’ve proved that this gift exists. What do you say, Pandora Jones? The bottom line is it’s better than shovelling shit, wouldn’t you say?’ He laughed so hard he had to wipe tears from his eyes.
Pan waited until he’d finished and then shrugged.
‘What do you have in mind, Doctor?’
‘Oh, just a few basic experiments to begin with.’ Morgan stood and moved to a cupboard on the wall. He opened it and brought out a strange machine and then placed it on the polished table opposite Pan.
‘Let me introduce you to a continuous shuffling machine. I put in a requisition and a colleague across the wall was resourceful enough to get it for me. What we will be doing today, my dear, is a little experiment. The machine will randomly select cards and slide them face-down in front of you. You simply have to guess whether the card is red or black.’
‘Why can’t you shuffle them?’
‘I could, but this machine holds five decks which would be a challenge for me to handle.’ Dr Morgan smiled. ‘Plus, it removes the human element, which is important in studies like this. Neither of us will know what card is dealt until after you have made your guess. Basic scientific methodology, my dear.’ He put both elbows on the table and fixed Pan with twinkling eyes. ‘Shall we give it a go? What do you say?’
‘You want to start right now?’
‘Why not? We have forty-five minutes of the session left.’
‘Okay. I guess so.’
‘Excellent,’ said Morgan, rubbing his hands. ‘This should be fun.’ He pressed a button on the side of the machine. There was a brief whirring sound and a card slid out onto the table in front of Pan. She looked at it.
‘What am I supposed to do?’ she said. ‘Put my fingers on the side of my head, focus on the pattern, try to “see” through it? I mean, how do I do this?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ replied Dr Morgan. ‘Just tell me if you think this is a red card or a black card. Have a guess.’
Pandora gave a small laugh. She looked at the back o
f the card, waited to see if anything floated into her mind. It didn’t. The back of the card obstinately refused to give her any information whatsoever.
‘Red,’ she said eventually.
Dr Morgan turned the card over. It was the four of clubs.
Pandora laughed again. ‘Good start,’ she said.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Dr Morgan. ‘Relax. You can’t tell anything from one card. You can’t really tell from a hundred cards. If we are to discover anything, it will be in the statistics, and that will take thousands of repeats. The more we do, the more accurate the data.’
‘By chance, random guessing, I should get fifty percent right, shouldn’t I?’
‘Exactly. Right now, you’re a hundred percent wrong. But do this ten thousand times and anyone will hit really close to five thousand right and five thousand wrong. The interesting thing would be if you got eight thousand right. That would be very interesting, statistically.’
‘And if I got two thousand right?’
Morgan laughed. ‘Equally interesting, my dear. We’d be able to say that you have an uncanny instinct to get things wrong. I think that would be very useful. Anyway, let’s press on.’
This time, he did not flip the card to reveal its colour. He simply glanced at it before putting it back into the machine and making an annotation in a notebook. Fifteen minutes later, Pan asked how she was doing. Dr Morgan squinted at his notebook and totted up the totals.
‘Fifty-eight correct, forty-seven incorrect. Statistically insignificant. But try something for me, Pan. At the moment, I think you are concentrating too hard. You are forcing yourself. Don’t even think about the card. Don’t look at it. The first colour that springs to mind. No second guessing. No agonising.’
‘Can I touch the back of the card?’
Morgan frowned. ‘Does that help?’
‘It might. When I find things, I generally like to touch the person who’s lost something. It’s probably nothing, but it makes me feel more confident.’
‘Then go ahead, by all means.’
Pan found it a lot easier after that. She took the doctor’s advice about not thinking too hard. She kept her eyes fixed on her glass of water and watched as the beads of condensation rolled down the sides. At the periphery of her vision she noticed the cards come down and she reached out her left hand to barely brush their backs. Then she simply said the first colour that came to mind.
Pandora Jones: Admission Page 11
