‘Well, let’s get cracking, my dear. I’ve been thinking about our regime and I’ve come up with a few more exercises that should prove interesting. You must be tired of guessing the colours of playing cards.’
‘Some variety would be appreciated,’ Pan admitted.
‘Excellent. I thought we could work on distance clairvoyance. It’s very simple. I asked three of your fellow students to draw on a sheet of paper and seal the drawings in envelopes. They did not tell me what they drew.’ He smiled and gave Pan a wink. ‘The envelopes have remained in my possession until now, so I can be certain that you have no clue what is in them.’
And I doubt I will after this experiment, thought Pan, but she didn’t say anything.
‘Clear your mind and concentrate,’ Dr Morgan continued. ‘Three envelopes, three drawings.’
Pan closed her eyes and attempted to focus, but nothing came other than the absurdity of what she was doing. She mentally shook her head and tried again, trying to see the drawings. But she drew a blank. Maybe I’m trying too hard, she thought. Let yourself drift. She remembered how she had occupied the body of Kes, Tom’s falcon, when she was searching for Cara. That had happened, she remembered, after reading Cara’s journal. Though it had seemed to happen without any conscious effort on her part.
She remembered the amazing flight above The School, the way she’d banked and stooped, riding the wind, a human mind inside a bird’s body. The memory brought back the exhilaration. Almost instinctively, she reached out her mind to the bird once more, remembered how the falcon had felt against her arm, recreated the sight of the sleek feathers and the wide stare of the eye. This works better when I touch something, she thought. I need contact to bring about some kind of connection. That wasn’t the case when she had her vision on the island, though. Then again, that was a very different kind of experience, a sense of what the future held, rather than her normal intuitions about where missing items might be. Did that involve the sense of touch? What about Wei-Lin’s watch? She hadn’t touched that. Yet she’d had physical contact with Wei-Lin on many occasions. Perhaps that was enough. She focused on the bird again, but nothing came. She was aware of Dr Morgan waiting. He could wait.
After ten minutes of absolute silence, Pan found a mental space that was relaxing, almost soporific. She was entering a state of mind similar to the moments just before sleep, when the waking world and oblivion were deliciously mixed, when body and mind were on the point of separation. The itch between her shoulder blades suddenly intruded and made her squirm. It had eased somewhat over the day but now it came back fiercer than ever. She pressed herself against the back of her chair and wriggled slightly to ease it, which only made it worse. Pan wanted to open her eyes, to give in to the discomfort, but resisted the temptation.
This time there was no sense of a physical rush, the peculiar feeling associated with the mental invasion of another body. This time it came slowly, almost imperceptibly. She heard breathing and it wasn’t hers or Dr Morgan’s. Pan kept her eyes closed, but the darkness wasn’t absolute. In her peripheral vision – can you have peripheral vision when your eyes are closed? she thought – there was a movement of light and shade, a ghostly image that defied clarification. Relax, she thought. Don’t try too hard. Let it happen. Because something was happening. The breathing became more noticeable, the darkness less grainy. She was on the verge of seeing. And then she did.
It lasted only a matter of seconds. Maybe less, perhaps no more than a second. Pan saw a room. A large room full of equipment. It was brightly lit and there were no windows. The harsh glow of fluorescent lights banished all shadows. Clinical. That was the first word she thought of. Clean. A laboratory. There was a trolley bed in the centre of the room and a body lying on it. Something else. A faint outline that blurred the scene. Glasses, she realised. I am looking through a pair of glasses. The perspective shifted and for a moment she had a better view of the body on the trolley. A young man, tall, eyes closed, wearing a strange cap from which dozens of multicoloured wires issued and connected to a machine. She still couldn’t see his face. A small tuft of black, curly hair poked from beneath the headgear and lay against a tanned neck. Pan gasped and at the same time the reaction came.
She was flooded by an overwhelming sense of outrage, another personality that objected to her presence. And then she was banished, thrown out. It was stupendously violent. I was inside another person’s head, she thought. I could see through their eyes, and they knew I was there. One moment she was spying through someone else’s vision, the next she was back in her chair in the office in the Infirmary. She heard the slow breathing of Dr Morgan, leaned back against her chair and saw the darkness behind her own closed eyelids.
Pan forced herself to keep her eyes shut for a few more seconds. She was shaken – no, terrified. It had been like flying inside Kes, except this time she had been an invader rather than a welcome guest. But who had she invaded? And why? The room she had witnessed – and she had no doubt it had been a real room – was not one she was familiar with, either in The School or in her past life. The whole experience was shocking, but one thing more than anything else caused her heart to race and her nerves thrum.
The boy on the bed. It was Nate.
‘Are you all right, my dear?’ Dr Morgan’s voice sounded a little fuzzy. Pan forced herself to take deep, regular breaths, calm the thudding of her heart. She opened her eyes.
‘I’m fine, Doctor,’ she lied.
He was leaning forward, one hand reaching towards her and concern was written in his eyes.
‘You were breathing irregularly,’ he said. ‘I was worried you were having some kind of . . . fit.’
Pan tried to smile. ‘Seriously, I’m fine.’ There was a band of pain behind her eyes and it was building, as if someone was tightening a screw into her skull. ‘I think I was starting to drift off. Sorry, Doc.’
‘Did you get any sense of what the drawings are?’ he asked.
‘Nothing at all, I’m afraid.’ Pan spread her hands. ‘I have no idea what might be in those envelopes.’
Dr Morgan reached forward and patted her knee.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘We’ll work on it.’
‘Yes,’ said Pan. ‘We certainly will.’
She twisted to scratch her back, but she couldn’t ease the irritation. The movement caused her head to pound and she winced at the pain.
Chapter 7
Pan toyed with her food at dinner that evening. She knew she needed to build up her strength, but the questions buzzing in her head allowed no room for other concerns. The rest of the group appeared in good spirits, however.
‘How’s the leg today, Sanjit?’ asked Karl. He had taken a seat next to Sanjit, opposite his normal place. He is paying him extra attention, thought Pan. The group is keeping everyone close.
‘It’s okay,’ said Sanjit. ‘Getting better all the time. But Dr Morgan told me to avoid physical labour and Personal Fitness for a week.’
‘Lucky you,’ said Karl.
‘I’m good for the other classes, though.’
‘Unlucky for you,’ said Karl. ‘I prefer the physical labour. If I have to listen to yet another lecture on how to manage irrigation in arid areas, I think I’ll scream.’
‘You should do what I do,’ said Jen.
‘And that is?’
‘Don’t listen. Simple.’
Sam threw a piece of bread at Karl’s head. It caught him square between the eyes and bounced off under the table.
‘If there’s one thing that Karl’s good at, it’s not listening,’ she said.
Karl ducked beneath the table and came up with the crust. He examined it briefly and then popped it into his mouth. There was a chorus of groans.
‘Did you say something, sweetheart?’ he said. ‘I’m afraid I wasn’t listening.’ He swallowed and smacked his lips.
‘That is gross, Karl,’ said Sam, but she was smiling.
‘No. That is sensible,’ he replied
. ‘Don’t whinge to me if you’re hungry later.’
‘There must have been all sorts of crap on that piece of bread,’ said Sam. ‘Don’t whinge to me if you’re puking your guts up later.’
‘Deal.’
The chatter continued, though Pan and Wei-Lin kept quiet. Sanjit said little, as always, but he listened companionably. It was only when there was a pause in the conversation that Wei-Lin spoke.
‘Sanjit,’ she said. ‘You know what you said up there in the Infirmary? About how you felt responsible for Nate’s death? You don’t really believe that, do you?’
An awkward silence spread around the table. Pan glanced up. The others were bent over their plates, even though most had finished eating. Sanjit pushed his plate away, but he didn’t meet Wei-Lin’s eyes.
‘I . . . it’s difficult to explain,’ he said.
‘You mentioned being in trouble,’ Wei-Lin continued. ‘Back in the real world. You know, Sanjit, if you want to talk about anything to any of us, then you can. I mean, we gave Dr Macredie some crap about counselling, but she has a point. Sometimes talking can help. Especially talking with friends.’
Sanjit glanced briefly around the table. He had a haunted look. Pan pushed back her chair.
‘Sam, Karl,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a surprise for you guys. Come on, you’re going to love it. Trust me.’
Sam got to her feet instantly.
‘A surprise?’ she said. ‘I love surprises. Come on, Karl.’
‘Yeah, me too,’ said Jen. In less than a minute, they were all at the door to the canteen. Pan glanced back. Wei-Lin and Sanjit were huddled together. Sanjit nodded his head a couple of times, then looked up at Wei-Lin and started speaking.
‘Good job, Pan,’ said Sam when they were outside. ‘That was so . . . uncomfortable.’
‘Yeah. And good on Wei-Lin too,’ said Karl. ‘She’s right. Sanjit needs to deal with his guilt about Nate. Good on her.’
‘That wasn’t just an excuse,’ said Pan. ‘I really do have a surprise for you. Come on, guys. In the market for a run?’
‘What sort of surprise?’ asked Sam.
Pan rolled her eyes. ‘It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, would it?’ she said. ‘But I’ll say this. It is . . . romantic. You and Karl will love it.’
Karl took Sam by the hand.
‘Sounds good to me,’ he said. ‘You coming, Jen?’
Jen laughed. ‘Nah. I reckon I know where Pandora’s taking you and I’ve been there, done that. Anyway, three’s a crowd and four is just plain wrong. And I expect Pandora will beat a hasty retreat after she’s shown you.’ She winked. ‘It’s very romantic though.’
Pan thought about showering, but decided to leave it until just before lights out. The two hours of free time were another opportunity to develop her fitness, even though she’d just come back from a run with Sam and Karl. She could feel her body changing. Her legs were stronger and her breathing was no longer ragged a few kilometres into a run. Miss Kingston had noticed. After the most recent formal fitness session, she had taken and recorded Pan’s heart rate and blood pressure, and made a note of Pan’s new time. Pan had caught a glimpse of the statistics before Miss Kingston turned the clipboard away.
‘Improving, am I, Miss Kingston?’ Pan had asked.
The tutor had sniffed. ‘Some improvement, Miss Jones,’ she’d said. ‘As one would expect. But you still have a way to go.’
Pan had smiled.
She started her warm-down exercises, just outside the dormitory. The air was decidedly more temperate and the sky almost clear of cloud cover. Fitness is key, Pan thought. She remembered Nate and his obsession with running, honing his body, but pushed the ideas and images away. There was no point in thinking about Nate. Not until she was sure he was alive.
‘Have you ever considered making it a bit tougher?’ said a voice behind her.
Pan stopped running on the spot and turned. Jen stood, hands on hips, watching.
‘You’re getting in shape,’ Jen continued. ‘But you need to build muscle bulk. Running is great for cardio, but you need to combine it with weight training.’
‘Hey, this is warming down, thanks. You know, gentle, muscle-relaxing stuff.’
‘You’re a wimp. What do you wanna warm down for, anyway? You need to push it, Pandora. Come for another run and I’ll show you what I mean.’
‘Are you offering your services as a personal trainer?’ said Pan.
Jen smiled. ‘You couldn’t afford me.’
‘So you’re happy just to criticise then?’
‘Lighten up. Here.’ Jen picked up a couple of large rocks and handed them to Pan. They were about twice the size of Pan’s fists, and heavy. ‘Keep those in your hands as you run. If you had a backpack, I’d suggest loading it up too. Proper training. But this will be a decent start.’
‘I’ve just got back from a run,’ said Pan.
‘The waterfall?’
Pan nodded. ‘You should have seen Sam and Karl when we got there,’ she said. ‘They just stood hand in hand, staring. I don’t think they even noticed when I left them to it.’
‘Young love, hey? Well, we know where to avoid when we go on this run.’
Pan groaned, but Jen picked up another couple of rocks, about twice the size of the ones she had given Pan. ‘These should do it for me,’ she said.
For the first kilometre, Pan had difficulty adjusting to the extra weight of the rocks that threw her off balance. But she ignored the cramps in her biceps and, once again, pushed through the pain. She knew that when she was on the other side of that personal ‘wall’ the going would get easier and she would enjoy the rush of endorphins. Jen loped along beside her, but Pan got the impression she was no longer deliberately slowing her pace to match her own. She took a small amount of pleasure in the knowledge that the gap in fitness between them was narrowing.
They ran to the track at the bottom of the Garden on Top of the World and came to a halt at the cairn memorial. Pan noticed that new stones had been added so that it stood nearly three metres high. It was simple; there was no sign on it, just a jumble of rocks, but it did make her think of Cara. And Nate. Jen scrambled up the pile and added her two rocks to the very top. Then she climbed down and dusted off her hands.
‘One for each,’ she said.
Pan didn’t reply, and instead sat down in the shade of the memorial. A few moments later Jen joined her. They gazed out over The School.
‘I got to thinking about what you said, Pandora,’ said Jen after a minute. Pan waited. ‘You know, about the memories and how they seemed to be similar. Well, I asked around.’
‘And?’
‘Interesting,’ said Jen. ‘Not actual proof, but interesting.’ She rubbed her hands on her thighs. ‘Most people don’t wanna talk about it, you know? Too painful, I guess. But I mentioned some of the things I remember and got a few comments back.’
‘Examples?’ said Pan.
‘Okay. I remember a man driving along a street in Sydney, his arm hanging out the driver’s window. He crashed into a traffic light. Real slow. And the car just stopped and his arm continued to dangle, you know? Just an image. But I found two people who remembered the same thing. Well, not exactly the same thing. The roads were different, for one, and it wasn’t always a traffic light the car collided with. But . . .’
‘You know what The School would say, don’t you?’ asked Pan. ‘That something like that was bound to happen in any city. Every town, probably. It’s no great surprise if a few of us remember seeing that.’
Jen sighed. ‘Yeah, I know. And I probably agree. But . . . hell, Pandora Jones, you have this strange ability to get under my skin. I’m thinking, sure, no big deal. But your little bombshell about implanted memories . . . well, that would fit, crazy though it sounds.’ She turned to Pan. ‘Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying I believe this story you’re spinning. All I’m saying is you’ve planted a seed of doubt. And for someone like me, that’s the worst. I need c
ertainty. I’m no good with doubts.’
‘What else?’ said Pan.
‘Someone mentioned something about a kid in a white dress. Didn’t you say that was what bugged you in the first place?’
‘Yeah,’ said Pan. ‘Three of us. Now make that four. It’s like a scene from a movie that everyone has seen. We remember it and we think it actually happened to us. But that’s all it ever was – a scene from a movie.’
‘Well, I’m going to find out,’ Jen said.
‘How?’
‘Not sure. Working on it. Any clever ideas on how you’re getting out of this place, by the way?’ said Jen.
‘Not yet. I’m concentrating on my fitness. Plus I think it’s a good idea to keep a low profile for a while. They’ll be watching me. Watching you too, I don’t doubt. I want to make them think I’ve settled back in like a regular student before I try to get out of here.’
‘I’ve got some ideas,’ said Jen. ‘Well, actually one idea, and I’m not sure you’re gonna like it.’
‘Yes?’
Jen stood and ran on the spot, pumping her arms up and down. Pan placed her right leg straight in front of her and bent at the waist, feeling the muscle flex. Jen stopped and put her hands on her hips.
‘Race you back?’ she said.
‘What’s your idea?’
‘Not yet. But I’ll tell you another idea – one that might help with the whole memory implant thing.’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ll tell you while we run. Jog for a k and then a sprint. Last one back’s a loser.’
Jen said nothing for a couple of hundred metres, then she turned her head towards Pan, kept her voice low.
‘If you’re right, then there are a couple of possibilities. We were implanted with these memories before we arrived at The School, in which case we’ve got Buckley’s chance of finding any evidence. Or . . . we were given them after we arrived.’
The image of Nate lying on a bed in a laboratory, wires spreading from a skullcap. It was too bizarre to explain, so Pan kept quiet.
Pandora Jones: Deception Page 6
