by Nick Gifford
First thing Monday morning, Liam spent half an hour establishing his new timetable with Miss Carver. There were all the normal curriculum subjects, and Miss Carver told him he would be sitting the standard exams when he was sixteen, just as if he was at any other school in the country. But there were to be extra lessons, too. A lot of these were one to one counselling sessions with Miss Carver, Mr Pullinger and others, including a Mr Connor. “We’ll be working on your areas of strength,” said Miss Carver. “Refining your talents. You’ll find that it’s hard work here in Senior House, but I think you’ll take to it.”
It felt good to have Miss Carver saying these things. Liam felt a rush of warmth from her with the words. She was going to help him. He could trust her with anything.
Later in the morning, she took him through to a classroom. “We’ll be giving you an induction session now, Liam. Explaining a bit more about how Senior House operates, but also about the wider picture: our talents, the medication regime, the place of the Lost Families of Mankind. You’ll find that you know some of this already, and that it will all come back to you during the session.”
Liam sat at one of the six desks.
Miss Carver glanced at her watch. “We’ll just give it a few more minutes. We have another new member of Senior House today, so this session will be for the two of you.”
Another one? Liam wondered who it might be. He’d only been in the main school for a week, so he didn’t know many people there. He sat and looked out of the window.
A short time later, the door opened, and a girl stood there, two suitcases on the floor behind her, blocking the corridor.
“Hi, Liam. Miss Carver. Am I in the right place? They just said...”
“You are,” said Miss Carver. “Come on in. Best move your cases out of the way. I’ll settle you in your room later. Come on in, Hayley. Welcome to Senior House.”
16 Green eyes
Sometimes you just know you can trust someone. You can tell straight away that a person – Hayley, for instance – is someone you would trust with your life, a person with whom you will be sharing secrets and jokes and embarrassing stories for many years to come.
Most of the time, though, you should beware.
~
She came into the classroom, dragging her two cases behind her, and sat at the desk next to Liam’s with a big grin on her face.
Miss Carver looked at the two of them, then sighed. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll give you five minutes.”
As Miss Carver left the room, Hayley said, “Well. Here I am then. I never thought I’d see this place from the inside, know what I mean?”
Liam laughed. “You’ll get used to it,” he said, sounding like the old hand that he clearly wasn’t.
“Aren’t you going to ask what I’m doing here?”
“You’ve been promoted,” said Liam. “Well done.”
Hayley nodded. “Old Willoughby told me this morning. It was after the last Elites session. He told me I’d suddenly made a lot of progress and that I’d benefit from the more targeted coaching available in Senior House. That’s what he said. My old man’ll be so pleased!”
“So,” said Liam, wondering, “what was so special about Elites on Saturday? Do you remember what it was that you did well?”
She stopped to think. “Nah,” she said. “Don’t remember much about it at all. It’s like that though. Tires you out. All runs together, doesn’t it?”
So, it wasn’t only Liam’s memories that went muddy and unclear. He wasn’t sure if he should feel good about that or not.
“Tell you one thing, though,” said Hayley, leaning towards him, across the gap between the desks. “You should have seen Anders’ face! He’s mad. Here we are, you and me, hand-picked for Senior House and he’s left back there in play group. He thinks you’re after me. He’s jealous as hell.”
Liam blushed. He couldn’t help himself.
“You’re not, are you?” asked Hayley.
“No!” Liam protested. He couldn’t tell from her tone whether she was serious or teasing. Probably both.
“All right, all right. Don’t worry about my feelings or anything. You should have seen him, though. I’ve got a new nickname for him. Green-eyed Monster. He’s silly. I told him it’s him or no-one for me, but he’s still jealous. Kind of sweet, really, don’t you think?”
Miss Carver walked back in at that moment. “Okay?” she said. “Let’s get on with this session.” She went up to the front of the class and turned to them suddenly looking serious. “I’m going to tell you about yourselves, and about this place,” she said. “I’m going to tell you some things you already know, and some things that will be a complete surprise. After this session, you will understand our purpose, the reason our kind lead the lives we do.”
She told them about the special talents that some people – “our kind of people” – were born with. The ability to sense the thought patterns of others, so that you could read mood, intention, even some unguarded thoughts. The ability to predict events a split-second, or sometimes more, before they happened. The ability to take control of other people’s muscles. To reach into people’s minds and change what you find. To affect what people see and hear – Liam thought of Luc’s claimed ability to distract people. To project images and even objects so that your thoughts take on substance for a time. “This is what you are best at, Hayley: you can project your own fears so that they take on physical form.”
Liam looked at Hayley, saw the understanding. Somewhere inside, she knew this already – Miss Carver was just unlocking the knowledge.
“And me?” he asked.
“You...” said Miss Carver, staring at him intensely – almost hungrily. “You make us strong, Liam. You make us very strong.”
He turned away from her look, confused. What could she mean? He opened his mouth to ask her to explain, but already she had moved on.
She told them about the drugs. Medicines used to suppress these gifts, so that children could grow up without their talents erupting and causing them problems. And medicines that would enhance the gifts, bringing them out and reinforcing them. The medication was usually concealed in food. “Secrecy is a part of how we must live,” Miss Carver told them.
“There are side-effects, too,” said Miss Carver. “Consequences of being as we are. Our kind tend to be vulnerable to disease, particularly the illnesses of aging. Without these medicines you would have a life expectancy of maybe forty-five years. The medicines should give us a normal life-span, as long as we take them continuously.”
She told them about the implants, encouraging them to feel their own and each other’s scalps, just two knuckles above the hairline. Liam put his hand on Hayley’s head, running his forefinger lightly up her scalp, through the thick mat of hair, until he found a dimple, just like the one on his own head.
Sitting there, with his hand on Hayley’s head, he had a sudden flash of memory, of seeing someone do something very similar before. A room like this ... someone else doing this to Hayley. And then the memory was gone.
He sat back in his seat as Miss Carver explained that when they were fully functional the implants would be used to manufacture the right medicines from raw ingredients found in their own bloodstreams.
Miss Carver’s eyes lit up at that point. “It is one step towards liberating our kind,” she said. “Those of us trained in the use of our implants aren’t tied into the supply of medications any more.”
She told them about the Lost Families of Mankind.
“What about womankind?” muttered Hayley, but their tutor continued.
“The talented are different,” she said. “We are a different race. A different species, depending on your definitions. Our people have been lost among the flotsam of mankind for generations, but now programmes like this are identifying the talented, the Lost, and bringing us together again. Our kind is regrouping, working in the greater service of mankind as a whole. And that is the purpose of NATS. That is why we are here. F
inding and nurturing our own, and putting them into the service of the greater good.”
Why did she talk of liberation when her words made Liam think of slavery? There was no free choice in this. They were being used, enslaved. Again, he felt that he had heard that argument somewhere before, but he wasn’t sure where.
Miss Carver was smiling at them.
“There,” she said. “I think that’s enough for now. I expect you’ll have lots of questions, either now, or later. We’ll take a break, then you can quiz me all you like afterwards. During the rest of this week you’ll have plenty of chances to revisit this with me and your other tutors. Okay?”
~
In the hour before dinner, Liam started to unlock his memories.
Alone.
He felt the need to be by himself after a day in Senior House with all those presences intruding on his thoughts. It could swamp you, quite easily. Let them in and you would be lost in the chaos of other people’s thought-shapes.
He wondered if they had changed the medication since he had moved up to Senior. Relaxed it, or changed the balance somehow to lift some of the blocks on his gifts. Maybe his implant had been activated in some limited way.
Whatever ... he had to escape that atmosphere, for a time, at least.
He walked by the creek.
He thought about the reminder on his phone. Mum’s birthday. Why would he have such a reminder, so many years after her death? He had checked through the phone but other than this one reminder it had been quite conspicuously blank: no stored numbers or old texts, no other reminders. It was like a new phone, or one that had been cleared. So why this reminder? It was as if someone was leading him on. Perhaps the same person who had sent that mysterious message. Someone trying to help him unlock his own mind...
Yet again, he went over the memories he had managed to recover. From before. The gull, screaming on a broken roof – somewhere on Wolsey Point, he thought. Hanging out at Three Trunker with Anders and Hayley when it had been their special place, not just Anders and Hayley’s. The white cottages on the beach. Children singing “London’s Burning” while hands closed on Liam’s arms, trapping him, and all the time his father watched, not raising a finger to help him.
These memories had a substance to them that none of his other memories from before NATS had.
There had been a key, he realised. Those memories had flashed back when that gull had landed near to him and called, triggering a burst of recollection.
Today, in the induction session with Miss Carver... He remembered sliding his forefinger up through Hayley’s blonde hair to find the mark where her implant had been inserted. At that moment, another memory had flashed up at him from the depths of his mind. Something very similar: not with his own hand on Hayley’s head, but someone else doing so while he watched.
A room, with computer screens and bowls of fruit and sweets. White, wipe-clean desktops you could write on with marker pens.
That was how they switched on the implants: something with the hands on the heads so that you could project images of rats – no, real rats – into a glass tank on the desk and wait for it to burst...
He remembered Hayley’s terrified face. The tears.
He remembered Tsuki’s steely concentration as she made a zombie-like Grunt write in Japanese script.
He remembered Miss Carver and Anders watching all this from the side of the room.
Security – watching you ... watching us...
Anders had spied on them in the school, Liam realised. No doubt using all the skills and techniques they developed here. He wondered what his former room-mate must have read from his mind. What secret thoughts had he given away?
Whatever it was, he had only been at NATS for a week, and he supposed he must have passed. Or, at least, not given away anything incriminating.
Not that he had any incriminating secrets in his head. Not that he knew of.
~
He was quiet at dinner, and even Hayley couldn’t provoke more than the occasional grunted response from him.
Luc tried to jolly him along, too, but then he would, wouldn’t he?
If they roomed him with a mind-reading spy to start with, why not continue here in Senior House?
Liam refused to be drawn. He ate and watched, as Hayley made friends with Luc, Morton and a girl called Briony. He left early, again, making the excuse that he was tired.
Up in the room he shared with Luc, he lay down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He wouldn’t sleep, he knew. It was light now – nearly the longest day – and even later, when it became dark, he knew sleep wouldn’t come.
He should just go to his father and ask to leave. Go back to Norwich and a normal school.
That would never happen, though. His father was working down here now, and Liam could hardly live permanently on Aunt Kath’s sofa.
Anyway, he knew he was in deep here. They were not going to allow him just to walk away.
The door opened, and Luc was there. The French boy hesitated in the doorway, then came in. “You are unwell?” he said.
Liam said nothing.
Luc sat on the window-ledge. “Why is it that you are angry?” He seemed hesitant, puzzled. He had obviously been trained by the same people that had trained Liam’s last spying room-mate. He was very convincing.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Liam, turning his face away from Luc’s searching gaze.
“Okay,” said Luc. “I would go to my room and leave you, but...”
“You people are very good,” said Liam. He couldn’t contain it any longer. “Very convincing.”
“I am sorry?”
“My last room-mate was a spy, too.”
“I...”
Liam turned now, and saw that Luc was staring at him. He was trying not to laugh.
“You think...?”
The effort was too great, and the boy burst out laughing. “I am sorry,” he said. “You think... “ He put a hand up, miming apologies. “You are right to be suspicious, my friend,” said Luc finally. “Be watchful and suspect everyone, yes? It is the only way. But really ... Forgive me, but you are not the most observant of us all, are you? No, look at me: I am one of the good guys! But I would say that, wouldn’t I?” He laughed again.
“No,” he continued, still chuckling, “the ones to beware of are Miss Carver, Morton Blake and William Stanchard – you know, the one with the ears. They are the ones who are watching us here. You can feel them in your head if you let them in. I know these things, my friend. It is in my blood, no? Vive la Résistance!”
He looked out of the window now. “It is a beautiful evening. Come: I will show you a good tree for climbing.”
~
Liam sat high up in an evergreen oak, shiny, dark leaves all around him. Luc was higher up, just coming down from the very crown of the tree.
“I’m sorry,” said Liam.
Luc grinned. “But you are still suspicious,” he said. “That is fair. Shall I tell you? I thought you were a spy, too. They don’t like the way I come and go here. They would stop me if they could work out how to do it without damaging my gift! That afternoon, when you arrived. I thought that I might hear something interesting if I hid outside of the window.”
He shrugged. “But no. Miss Carver knew I was there. I could feel her trying to get into my head. Like I say, she is one of the ones you should watch with care. She and Morton and William, they spy for Principal Willoughby. He likes to know exactly what is going on, I think. There may be others, too ... from outside. I think they are from the Lost Families or from the Government. I don’t think they trust our Principal very far. No?”
After a long silence, Luc dropped onto a branch next to Liam’s. “My parents ... you know?” he said. “They gave up a great deal for me to come here. They made many sacrifices. They think it is a good thing for someone like you and like me. But I don’t know. I am not so sure. I think they might have made a big mistake.”
17 A telephone cal
l and an intrusion
Never underestimate the importance of the human factor. Love, hate, jealousy, greed ... they can intrude at any moment, disrupting even the best-laid plans.
~
First lesson of the morning was maths. Sitting in a classroom that had once been just an ordinary room in this house, the four of them paid attention as Mr Pullinger demonstrated calculus on the big screen.
It seemed so odd, sitting here in these surroundings, doing something as mundane as mathematics with fellow pupils who could read minds and move solid objects about without touching them.
Remembering Luc’s warning, Liam was careful to guard his thoughts. They had talked about this in the night: how not to betray yourself in the presence of mind-spies like Anders Linley and Miss Carver.
“Always, you must concentrate,” Luc had urged. “You feel them in your head, no? Push them away. Deflect them. Most of them, they find it very difficult, so if you push them away they just think they are having a bad day. “
Liam was not so confident of his abilities to push them away. Luc’s talent lay in his ability to deflect attention – maybe this made it easier for him to turn them away from his mind, too.
Now, Liam was aware of the presences, the thought-shapes trying to intrude. Morton Blake was at the desk behind him, he knew, and Hayley and Briony to his right. It was Morton he should watch, according to Luc. Liam concentrated on not thinking about certain subjects, and he concentrated on deflecting.
He concentrated on not thinking about the fact that he was even doing this, snuffing out thoughts and images as they occurred.
Calculus. That was his thing. That was what he allowed to fill his head.
Nothing else until he was free of this classroom, free of the building. He didn’t dare think his own thoughts until there was some distance between him and all the prying minds.
~
At lunchbreak he made his excuses and went off for another of his walks. Time to relax. Time to let his guard drop a little and to think.
