Seven Point Eight (19 page)

“There are two men, they have rifles,” Tahra said.

Max nodded his appreciation.

“Don’t worry, she’ll be safe now.”

He let Tahra return to her room and disappeared for a short while. In the meantime, the head technician removed the reel and took it to the viewing room, waiting for Max to reappear, which he did. The two of them scrutinised the reel to evaluate her performance, surprised to see something quite unexpected.

They watched as Tahra closed her eyes, a flash of light popping into existence at the top right of her head. Max asked for it to be replayed, and they both viewed it again.

“What’s that?”

“I assume it’s a ray of light reflecting off a surface behind her,” the technician replied. “I’ve never seen this occur on previous tests with George and Oscar though.”

Max looked dubious.

“There’s nothing in there that would reflect light in that manner.”

The technician shrugged, unable to give any rational explanation other than what he’d already offered.

“Let’s see if it happens on the next test,” Max said.

He left the viewing room to visit Tahra. After knocking and entering, he found her lying on her bed. For a moment, he surveyed her slim and lithe body, laid out like a sacrificial child for the gods.

“Did my talent please you?” she asked him.

Max sat down on the bed next to her, and she looked up at him with the most outrageous bedroom eyes.

“You knocked me for six, Tahra.”

“Will anyone rescue that little girl?”

“Don’t worry,” he reassured her, “the process is already underway. The perpetrators will be dealt with.” There was a hint of ruthlessness in his voice as he said that.

Max kissed her on the forehead and stood up.

“You really are special,” he said, with a lingering glance as he left the room.

 
She smiled as she’d performed something important that pleased her benefactor. The world was really her oyster.

Downstairs, Max spoke briefly to Miss Tynedale.

“In ten days, it’s Tahra’s eighteenth birthday. I’d like to make it a memorable one, so pull out all the stops.”

“Where will we hold the party?”

“Here,” Max replied, “I want to make sure she gets to know everyone. I’ll be away on business for six months shortly after, and I don’t wish her to be lonely.”

“It can be arranged,” she said, eyeing him with curiosity.

“And while I’m away, can you make sure that she doesn’t get…involved with any men?” Miss Tynedale gave him a quizzical look. “Well, we don’t want our new star to fall pregnant, or lose her to some handsome young man, do we?”

Miss Tynedale watched him leave the office, concerned the green monster of jealousy was raising its ugly head. She had the uncanny feeling that someone was going to get hurt, but for once, it wasn’t going to be the object of his affections. Max had found someone who willingly, or unwittingly, was able to push the right buttons.

Tahra’s eighteenth birthday fell on the 7
^th
of November, overshadowed by The Cuban Missile Crisis. The disagreement had escalated to the point where nuclear war seemed inevitable, so the world had prayed for peace and marched in
London
. As a peaceful solution neared, Tahra felt a sense of serenity and belonging at The Institute.

Max had called off all afternoon testing for the preparations and festivities, and everyone looked forward to socialising together, as it rarely happened. Most hadn’t met Tahra either, due to the fact their tests didn’t coincide. Caterers came into The Institute for the first time, Miss Tynedale emerged in a chiffon dress, and the main room got decorated with balloons and assorted paraphernalia.

Tahra made her entrance, amazed to find a group of people waiting for her.

“Surprise!”

A few of the technicians presided over the music and kick started the party with a chorus of party blowers. Tahra stood in the centre of it all, delighted in the effort made to celebrate her coming of age. Immediately after the introductory trumpeting, rock and roll music began to fill the room, to the amusement of the party goers.

She surveyed the smiles, expressions of curiosity or caution, and wondered if she met their expectations. These strangers were part of her life now, yet she dared not communicate with them and struggled to find the words to greet them.

‘Great Balls of Fire’ rang out and Oscar, the Afro-Caribbean remote viewer, took the initiative and her hand, inviting her to dance. She accepted and allowed him to spin her around, fifties rock and roll style. He moved well and twirled her around the floor, an act that caused the usually serious Max to laugh.

Max stood back and allowed her to mingle, as she needed to socialise with the others. Neither did he want to draw too much attention to his feelings for her, although the trouble he’d taken to organise this party had already raised some eyebrows.

Beth, one of the mediums, stood by Emilie, the fresh faced telepath.

“Why so quiet?” Beth asked.

Emilie didn’t answer immediately, so Beth had to prompt her.

“I can see there’s something wrong.”

Emilie looked at her and asked her a question.

“Have you noticed….anything strange about our new recruit?”

They exchanged knowing glances.

“I know Grace is sometimes by her side,” Beth commented.

Emilie didn’t receive the answer she wanted, so decided to reveal all.

“I can’t sense anything from her,” she stated. “I’ve never known that to happen.”

“Do you know why?”

Emilie shrugged. “No, I do not.” Her French accent became thicker as she said that.

Beth decided to confide in her further.

“She has more spirits around her than is usual, I find that quite odd.”

“Do
you
know why?”

“No,” came the reply.

They both watched Max, whose eyes were solely upon Tahra.

“She seems blissfully unaware that Max actually has feelings for her,” Beth said, almost wistfully. “I hope Grace knew what she was doing.”

Emilie gave her a questioning look.

“Grace is the reason Tahra is here, and Max hung on her every word,” Beth explained.

She looked on with curiosity at this ingenuous and lithe figure, while Emilie viewed her with suspicion. How could any female be so oblivious to Max’s obvious intentions towards her? What a lucky girl. Did Tahra know, care, or even bother to care?

Meanwhile, as Oscar danced with Tahra, he took the opportunity to introduce himself properly.

“My name’s Oscar Duvalier, I’m one of the other remote viewers in this place.”

“Pleased to meet you.
 
My name is Tahra Mamoun.”

“It’s good to see new blood,” he commented, “and I’ve heard you’re amazing.”

She laughed with confidence.

“I want to be the best I can be.” After a pause, she added, “Aren’t you worried by my presence here?”

“There’s enough work to keep us all busy,” he shrugged.

“That’s very gracious of you.”

“God brought you here for a reason, I’m sure it’s part of his greater plan.”

Tahra considered his words.

“I wish I understood the plan for me. Max came to find me in
Tehran
, you know. He believes in me.”

Oscar gave her an enigmatic smile.

“Yes…yes he does. I’ve never seen him take such a personal interest in any of his….subjects before.” Tahra met his gaze, knowing exactly what he meant. “Be careful,” he warned her.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I can handle Max.”

Oscar gave her a quizzical look at her rather blasé comment, shrugged, and put his arm around her waist as they danced away.

The remaining residents mingled, chattered, or tapped their feet in time to the music, even the normally staccato and reticent Sakie. No one really noted the conspicuous absence – Paul. Most assumed he’d been assigned elsewhere, but Miss Tynedale wondered if there were other, underlying motives for his nonattendance.

Another song graced the air, Chubby Checker singing ‘The Twist’, which motivated the majority of the partygoers. Max didn’t often dance but Oscar was stealing his fire, so he cut in. Tahra expressed delight in seeing him loosen up and have fun. It seemed odd at first to feel his arm around her waist and to see his response to the music, but he had excellent coordination and whirled her around the floor in a style that rivalled Oscar’s moves. It pleased him to dance with her, and to see the enjoyment clearly written in her face.

Oscar danced with Beth, and they both exchanged knowing glances watching the two of them together.

Max considered this to be one of the happiest moments he’d experienced in a long while, and it seemed such a shame to tell her about the business trip tomorrow.

***

Her eighteenth birthday party had been a
high point
in her life, which until now had been staid and unexciting. However, an unexpected interruption followed the next day. Max told her he was going to be away on business for around six months, and Tahra didn’t receive the news well.

“But you can’t be away for such a long time,” she protested. “I’ll get lonely.”

Max seemed touched that she cared about his absence, and Tahra began to feel angry for having become so dependent on him. She fought the tears as best she could.

“I’m sure the others will look out for you while I’m away,” Max tried to reassure her.

“It’s not the same.”

He reached out to wipe her cheek.

“I promise I’ll write to you,” he stated, “but please realise, I have to go away on business to ensure all my people here have work.”

Work filled Max’s life, and she’d relied on him too much. Sensing her desolation, he placed his fingers under her chin, lifted it gently and kissed her. The love and attention of a handsome, wealthy man was intoxicating and she didn’t see how she’d manage without it. For the first time since she’d met him, she actually felt like she wanted him, and she put her arms around his waist, laying her head on his chest. This took him by surprise, and he hugged her in return.

They stood like that briefly, cherishing that sincere moment as it wouldn’t always be like this. He eventually stepped away from her and walked down the stairs, watching her fondly. When he disappeared out of sight, she looked over the stair rail and noticed him speak quietly to Miss Tynedale. After leaving instructions with her, he picked up a briefcase and walked out of the door.

Now she’d have to make her own way in the world.

***

The first few days were tough. She spent most of the time in her room listening to music and reading. The government had lifted the ban on ‘Lady Chatterley’s Lover’ and she read it with fervour, finding the Derbyshire dialect very difficult though. However, the sexually explicit material titillated and fascinated her. Was this what Max had in mind for her? She began to wonder what making love was like; should she have given in to Max, or was she right to hold out?