The Ability (Ability, The) (18 page)

“I love you too, Mum,” said Chris, finally, and put the phone down. He walked back out into the corridor, lost in thought, and bumped straight into Ron and John.

“Hi,” said Chris sheepishly, not looking up. They both stopped in front of him and then stood back to let him pass without a word. Chris, not knowing what else to say, walked between them toward the door. He was about to reach over to turn the handle when Ron spoke.

“Is it true?”

Chris stopped and turned round.

“Is what true?” he asked.

“That you have . . . you know . . . special powers,” said Ron, as if it pained him to ask such a ridiculous question.

“Yes, I think so,” said Chris.

Ron didn’t respond, and there was an awkward silence as the two guards stared at Chris, arms folded, obviously trying to work out if he was telling the truth. Finally John spoke.

“Prove it.”

Chris hesitated. “What?”

Ron looked up at John and nodded in agreement.

“Do something to prove it’s true—make a rabbit appear or something.”

“I can’t make a rabbit appear from nowhere” said Chris, taken aback.

“What can you do?” asked John.

Chris shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t really know; it’s only the first day. We can learn stuff quickly and move things—”

“Anything?” interrupted Ron.

Chris shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know; I think so,” he said.

“Lift John up in the air,” said Ron.

“What?” asked Chris.

“Told you it couldn’t be true,” said Ron, and John, his arms folded, nodded his head.

“No, no, I
can
do it . . . I think . . . but, um, I’m not allowed to. If Sir Bentley—”

“We can keep a secret if you can. Sir Bentley’s gone home anyway.”

Chris looked around, trying to decide what to do.

“All right,” he said finally, “I’ll do it.”

Ron smiled, but John didn’t look quite as pleased.

“Wait. Just . . . you know . . . don’t get carried away—just an inch or two.”

Chris nodded and turned to face John, relaxing his eyes until they started to lose focus. He concentrated on lifting John up, and within seconds John’s body began to shake slightly, and his gigantic feet lifted slowly off the ground.

Both Ron and John looked down in amazement.

“Uh, I don’t like this,” said John as he rose up higher. “I really don’t like this,” he repeated, sounding increasingly nervous. He waved his arms in an effort to stay vertical as Chris left him hovering a foot off the ground, and then suddenly he shot upward, smashing into the ceiling with his head.

Chris, his focus broken, looked up, horrified, and watched as John fell back to the floor, landing on his feet. John rubbed his head.

“I’m so sorry,” said Chris, not knowing what to do. “I’m only learning—I haven’t practiced much.”

Chris was shaking with nerves as Ron and John both looked up to the ceiling. Chris followed their gaze and saw a large circular dent in the plaster. For a moment there was silence, and then, at the same time, Ron and John started laughing.

“That’s unbelievable!” said Ron.

“Are you okay, John?” asked Chris, still concerned.

“Better than the ceiling,” said John, his body shaking
with laughter, and then, without another word to Chris, they both turned away, still chuckling.

“I don’t like this,” squealed Ron as they walked off, imitating John by flapping his arms frantically.

“Shut it, Ron,” said John, as they turned the corner and disappeared.

Chris smiled, not really knowing what to make of what had just happened, and headed off back to his bedroom.

•  •  •

That night, while Philip slept, Chris lay in bed thinking about how much his life had changed in such a short space of time. It was a strange feeling, as if a weight had literally been lifted off his shoulders, and yet in some ways he felt unnerved by it, as if he might suddenly wake up and find that this had all been a dream. Barely twenty-four hours had passed since his arrival at Myers Holt, and yet the overdue bills, the desperation he had felt as Frank had refused his offer of his father’s medal, and the arguments with his mother all seemed like faded memories from another life, and when Chris finally fell asleep, he did so with a contented smile on his face.

The next morning the children of Myers Holt woke up excited to find out what the day had in store for them. They wolfed down their breakfasts and rushed over to the Dome. Climbing over the hill, they saw a young man in a red tracksuit waiting by the side of the pool.

“You’re one minute late,” he said, tapping his watch with his finger, a frown on his face. “I never knew a man come to greatness or eminence who lay abed late in the morning.”

“Eh?” said Rex.

“Jonathan Swift,” said Philip.

“I’m impressed, young man,” said the teacher sternly, “but I’d be more impressed if you were here on time. Now, is this everybody?”

The children nodded.

“Good. My name is Mr. Green, and I’ll be taking you for PE every day.”

“Every day?” said Rex.

“No pain, no gain,” said Mr. Green, smiling.

“I prefer ‘no pain, no pain,’ ” replied Rex. “I think I’ll sit this one out.”

“And I think you’ll join us,” said Mr. Green, leading Rex by the arm. Rex groaned but didn’t resist.

“The changing rooms are over there,” said Mr. Green, pointing to a handle on one of the Dome’s screens. “Your swimsuits and towels are inside. See you in five minutes.”

Ten minutes later the children appeared, shivering. Mr. Green gave them a disapproving glance and then instructed them to get into the warm, clear waters and start swimming lengths. He proceeded to shout motivational quotes at them for the next hour as they swam from one end of the pool to the other, again and again. The shouting was mostly directed at Rex, who spluttered and coughed as he doggy-paddled his way slowly from one end of the pool to the other. Sebastian, in the meantime, barely paused the entire time, gliding through the water like a fish.

Finally the hour was up, and the children climbed out, exhausted.

“Don’t tell me you don’t all feel better,” said Mr. Green.

Rex, who was bending over and taking deep breaths, looked up at Mr. Green and raised his eyebrows.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” said Mr. Green, laughing. “Good work, all of you,” he said, giving them a thumbs-up. “Now that I’ve got your hearts pumping, time to get those brains
working too. So go change and have a quick drink. See you all tomorrow and . . . don’t be late!”

•  •  •

Ms. Lamb walked into the classroom and found the children already sitting at their desks, their hair still damp, chatting amongst themselves. She slammed the door shut to get their attention, and their heads all snapped round to see a short woman wearing high-heeled turquoise leather boots that didn’t look as if they could support the rather large-framed body they were carrying. Never had a name been less suited to the person who owned it. The green leather suit she wore seemed to be made to fit somebody much smaller, and younger, and she had on so much black eye makeup that it made her look like a panda in costume. And if that wasn’t bad enough, Chris could swear that Ms. Lamb had a mustache.

Chris heard Rex stifle a laugh behind him.

“Good morning,” she said, not smiling. “Sit up and stop being silly,” she barked at Rex. “I am Ms. Lamb, and I will be teaching you how to use your Ability for Mind Access.” She walked over to her desk and placed on it the pile of books she was carrying. “So . . . ,” she said, looking over at each one of them, “
this
is what I have to work with.” She didn’t look impressed.

“You,” said Ms. Lamb, pointing to Sebastian, “what do you know about Mind Access?”

“I . . . not know nothing,” said Sebastian.

“No, clearly not. Anybody else?” she said, looking at the rest of them. Nobody moved.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“You—girl in pink—what is telepathy?”

“I—I—don’t know,” said Daisy, looking very nervous.

“Telepathy—the ability to send and receive thoughts. Repeat.”

“Telepathy. The ability to send and receive thoughts,” repeated the children.

“This is the most important skill that you gain with the Ability.”

“We can read minds?” exclaimed Rex.

“Be quiet, boy!” barked Ms. Lamb. “You—hand these out,” she said to Philip, pointing at the pile of books.

Philip stood up and passed the books round. Chris looked down at his spiral-bound copy. It had a faded red cover and the same diagram as the one painted on the wall, below the words, in thick black lettering,
THE ABILITY TRAINING MANUAL
.

“We have not had enough time to update this from the last edition, printed in 1962. Much of the information is irrelevant, as you will be learning it in the think tanks. For our purposes we are interested in chapter four onward only. Turn to that page now.”

Chris turned to the start of chapter four and saw the diagram on the cover spread out over two pages.

“This is a map of the human mind. It is not an accurate representation, of course, but it is the simplest way to organize the information you will have to access. Glance at it and commit it to memory,” She paused a few seconds. “You, girl with the frizzy hair.”

“Lexi.”

“Not interested. Now, look up and tell me what the
first long yellow box is at the bottom of the map.”

“Reception,” said Lexi, gruffly.

“Finally, a correct answer. This is where you hold current thought. Whatever you are thinking about at the present time is held here. Beyond Reception,” continued Ms. Lamb, as the class listened attentively, trying to keep up, “is a complex web of rooms that are all linked. Those links are represented by roads in this diagram. You can imagine yourself walking around a town when accessing somebody’s mind, and that will make it easier to navigate. You should imagine the colored blocks as buildings, each one filled with filing cabinets containing all the information that the mind has stored. The files that are most vivid in a person’s memory will be on the lower floor. As you climb up, you will be accessing vaguer memories and information. On the second floor are the files that contain information that a person can access with some work: When you have something on the tip of your tongue, that would be on that floor. The top floor houses information that the person is not aware they hold and that will only move down to the ground floor if something external literally jogs the memory. Are you all keeping up?”

The children all nodded.

“Right. Finally, before we begin our lesson, you must all learn how to stop somebody else from accessing your mind. If somebody uses their Ability on you, you will hear ringing in your ears the moment that they enter the Reception area. That ringing will increase in volume until the person passes through the door that leads out into the mind’s city, or leaves the mind entirely. The stronger
somebody’s Ability, the quieter the ringing in your ears. If, at any time, you hear ringing in your ears, you may stop it by immediately filling your Reception area with a block. A block is a thought strong enough to prevent somebody from moving farther in. Examples of good blocks are nursery rhymes or songs that you are very familiar with. Concentrate on repeating this over and over again in your mind until the person is forced to leave and the ringing in your ears stops. Anybody can use a block, you do not have to be twelve years old, so if you are even contemplating trying this on myself, or any other member of staff, you will be stopped immediately and suffer the consequences. Understood?”

“Yes,” replied the children.

“Very well. Now, you, you, and you, close your books,” she said, pointing to Chris, Lexi, and Rex. “The rest of you, turn to the next page in your manuals. On it you will see a list of objects. You are to concentrate on the list so that an image of each thing appears in your Reception area. I will give you a few minutes; then I will ask the person sitting next to you to list the objects you were thinking of. To enter the mind, simply look at your partner and focus on looking past their temple. Simple as that. And no blocking for now. You may begin.”

Chris turned to Philip, and Philip looked down at the manual. Chris looked at the side parting of Philip’s hair, and before he had a chance to imagine any map or room, he saw the list of objects as clearly as if he were looking at the manual himself.

“Go on Chris, start,” whispered Philip.

“I already did,” replied Chris.

Philip looked confused. “But I didn’t hear any ringing.”

“Stop talking!” said Ms. Lamb.

“We’ve already finished,” explained Chris, looking round at Lexi and Rex, who were staring intently at Sebastian and Daisy, respectively.

“I hardly think so,” said Ms. Lamb. “You were supposed to read the whole list.”

“I did,” said Chris.

“Very well, list them now.”

“Scissors, a candlestick, an apple, a paper clip, a truck, and the sun.”

Ms. Lamb looked surprised, then annoyed. “It’s not reading somebody’s mind if the person simply reads the list out to you,” she said, furious.