The Mysterious Benedict Society (36 page)

Am
I
a
SAD
case? Are my neighbors?
A common first symptom of
SAD
is the belief that one hears children’s voices in one’s head. The onset of this symptom is most sudden, and once it has begun, it persists without interruption until amnesia sets in.

Reynie flipped to the next page, which showed a picture of two smiling Recruiters. They had their hands on the shoulders of Jackson the Executive, who was trying his best to look miserable and happy at the same time. The photo caption read: “Already feeling better! A
SAD
case jokes around with our friendly doctors.”

Sticky had finished the pamphlet and hurried to the other table. “There are more over here, printed in dozens of languages!”

“I can’t believe it,” Kate said. “It doesn’t make sense.”

For Reynie it all made too
much
sense. The last piece of the puzzle had fallen into place. “This whole thing,” he said bleakly, “the Helpers, the Recruiters, the Messengers — the entire Institute — it’s all been one big experiment to make sure his plan can work. Mr. Curtain has been
practicing
. The Institute will become the Amnesia Sanctuary — he needs a place to put all the people who resist him!”

“People like us,” said Kate.

“People
including
us,” said Sticky.

I
still say it makes no sense,” Kate said. “It can’t
really
happen, can it? He intends to brainsweep everyone who resists him? Doesn’t he have to put them in his Whisperer to do that? What about people in other countries?”

Sticky waved a handful of pamphlets. “He has Sanctuaries set up all over the world. The maps on the back show their locations.”

Kate humphed, then frowned curiously. She had just noticed the edge of a doorframe behind the folded tables leaning against the wall.

“It
is
hard to understand how he’ll manage it, though,” Reynie said. “Sticky, remember when he told us the Whisperer was going to be a ‘healing device’ that would bring peace to thousands of troubled minds?”

“Even millions,” Sticky said with a shiver. “I remember.”

Kate had squeezed behind the tables and found a numeric keypad by the covered-up doorway.

“But how would that be possible? So many people brainswept in so short a time? That’s a major operation — it would take ages to prepare for it.” Reynie felt an unexpected burst of optimism. “Maybe we’ve gotten lucky! Maybe we’re in time. If we can just figure out how —”

“Boys?” Kate poked her head out from behind the tables. “There’s a door back here. You need to see what’s on the other side.” She spoke in an oddly strangled voice, as if she’d just seen a dead body.

Sticky’s eyes widened. He shook his head. “I don’t
want
to. Reynie, you look and then tell me about it.”

But Reynie grabbed Sticky’s arm, and together they went to look through the door.

“Oh,” said Reynie.

“Oh,
no
,” said Sticky.

“Are those what I think they are?” Kate asked. “They look like old-timey hair dryers.”

“I’m afraid so,” Reynie said.

The machines stretched in long rows — row after row after row — across a vast underground warehouse. An elegantly lettered sign that hung from the ceiling read:
WELCOME
TO
MEMORY
TERMINAL
. Along one wall were stacked hundreds of crates. Reynie bent to inspect the nearest one. It was filled with bundles of paper and marked with an address in China. The crate next to it bore the same address but was filled with machine parts — including, he noted, a red helmet and a blue one.

“It really
is
happening,” said Kate. “I can’t believe it.”

“So what’s in the crates?” said Constance.

They turned to find Constance standing in the doorway behind them.

“What happened to standing guard?” Sticky cried.

“You took too long!”

Sticky’s eyes bulged, but Reynie cut him off before they could start arguing. “She’s right. We
have
taken too long. We need to get out of here before it’s too late.”

And yet as they rushed out of the Memory Terminal and up the long secret passage, Reynie couldn’t stop thinking, “But we
are
too late! Much, much too late!”

The night was rainy, the plaza deserted. The light in the distant woods had stopped flashing, and Sticky turned from the window. “They want us to wait for a reply. I guess it’s a lot for them to think about.”

It was a lot for everyone to think about.

None of the children spoke. They only waited.

An interminable hour passed. Constance fell asleep sitting cross-legged, and Kate repeatedly asked Reynie to thumb-wrestle her to pass the time. Reynie declined. Even thumb-wrestling felt beyond his ability at the moment. Everything did. He was hoping against hope that Mr. Benedict would find some way to save them — to save everyone — without requiring anything more from him. Reynie didn’t think he was capable of more, not since the Whisperer. He was worried, deeply worried, that the Whisperer had revealed to him who he truly was.

At the window Sticky suddenly sat up straight. “Here’s a message!” He adjusted his spectacles and stared intently toward the mainland.
“Know… thine… enemy.”
After a minute Sticky climbed down. “That’s it. ‘Know thine enemy.’”

Kate looked hopefully at Reynie. “I don’t suppose you know what he means, do you? Just right off the bat?”

Reynie shook his head. “No idea.”

Kate sighed. “Then I suppose we’ll have to wake up Constance. It’s been so pleasant not to have anyone grumping and mumping for a few minutes.”

The children woke Constance (who claimed she hadn’t been sleeping) and put their heads together. What could it mean? Didn’t they already know Mr. Curtain was the enemy?

“Why do they say it like that, anyway?” Constance muttered. “It sounds stupid.”

“It’s an old saying,” said Reynie. “That’s how it’s usually said.”

“At least in the early translation,” Sticky said. “Originally it appears in a book by Sun Tzu called
The Art of War
. It comes at the end of the third chapter.”

The others stared at him.

“Well, it does,” Sticky said.

“I think we need more,” said Kate. “We’re in too big a hurry and have no idea what they’re talking about. Let’s ask for another hint.”

The others agreed — it couldn’t hurt to ask — so Sticky returned to the window and sent a follow-up question:
Which
enemy? But to this he received no reply. Sticky repeated the message and again got no reply. He was about to try a third time when Reynie stopped him.

“There has to be a reason they’re not replying,” Reynie said. “Are you sure the coast is clear?”

Sticky cringed. “I hadn’t thought of that.” He peered out the window. “The plaza’s empty… so’s the rock garden… the shoreline and the bridge are harder to see, but as far as I can tell they seem deserted.”

“Let me look,” Kate said, climbing up beside him and sweeping her eyes from left to right. “Sticky’s right, it does seem clear.” She took out her spyglass and scanned the view again. “Nope, no one out there that — oh, no!”

Kate jerked away from the window, and Sticky, alarmed, leaped backward. He tumbled onto Reynie and Constance — who luckily had covered their heads, expecting whatever it was to come crashing into the room.

“Sorry!” Kate whispered sheepishly. “It’s all right. I thought he was staring right back at me. But he’s too far away for that, of course. The spyglass makes him seem closer.”

Frazzled, the others gathered themselves up.

Kate was looking out the window again. “He really is staring in this direction, though. Oh, it gives me the creeps. Surely he’s not looking at our window? I have to remember it’s dark in here. He can’t see me.”

“Who are you talking about, Kate?” Reynie asked nervously.

“A Recruiter. He’s standing down under the edge of the bridge.” She lowered the spyglass and squinted into the darkness. “No wonder Sticky didn’t see him. Without the spyglass he just looks like a shadow among the bridge pilings.”

“Maybe the message was a warning,” Constance said. “To let us know an enemy was out there watching.”

“That doesn’t make sense, Constance!” Sticky said impatiently. “If they’d seen him there, they wouldn’t have sent any message at all.”

“
You
don’t make any sense,” Constance snapped. “They shouldn’t have sent
you
at all.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t know who you think you are —”

“Easy, you two,” Reynie said. “A message broadcast just started, didn’t you notice? It’s making us cranky.”

It was true. Though the messages were unpleasant as ever — and came more frequently now that Mr. Curtain had some sessions recorded — the children were getting used to them. Sometimes they didn’t immediately recognize the reason for their bursts of fussiness.

Sticky took a breath. “He’s right. Sorry about that.”

“That’s okay,” said Constance, though everyone noticed she didn’t apologize herself.

Kate was still watching the Recruiter. Exasperated, she said, “Why won’t that man
leave
? Doesn’t he know we have a secret message to receive?”

“Maybe he does,” Reynie said with misgiving, “and is waiting to see it.”

Sticky rubbed his head in agitation. “Do you really think so? You think we’ve been found out? They’re spying on
us
now?”

“I don’t know, but something seems extremely fishy about him standing in the shadows all alone. Recruiters are
never
alone — they’re always in pairs. And he obviously doesn’t want to be spotted. In fact, from this angle, we’re about the only ones who could see him down…. Wait a minute.”

“You think he
wants
us to see him, don’t you?” Kate said, raising her spyglass again. “He really is looking this way! Just standing there not moving. And here’s something weird I didn’t notice before — his hair is wet, but his clothes are dry. What do you think he’s up to?”

Reynie thought he knew. “Does he remind you of anybody, Kate?”

“Does he remind me… ? Of course! I can’t believe I didn’t see it!” She rapped her forehead with her knuckles. “It’s Milligan!”

“Milligan’s
here
?” Sticky cried, unable to contain his excitement.

Reynie grinned. “That’s what they meant by ‘Know Thine Enemy.’ And that’s why they didn’t respond to our second message — they had to make sure we looked for him. Sticky, let’s send a message that says, ‘Enemy Known.’”

Sticky sent the message.

No sooner had he done so than the light in the woods began flashing a message with extreme rapidity:
Go at once. Hurry. Hurry. Hurry
.

The children leaped to their feat, their hearts racing. What in the world? Had they been found out? The boys threw on their shoes, Kate retrieved her rope from the ceiling, and Constance climbed onto her back. Sticky took one last glance out the window — “It’s still flashing ‘Hurry!’” — and the children flew from the room, down the darkened corridor, and out into the night.

They had stared out their window at night enough to know where the darkest shadows lay, and it was to the darkest shadows they kept. Avoiding the plaza, where they would be terribly exposed, they bolted quick as cats along the bottom of the hill by the dormitory, dashed across a stretch of crumbling shale, then made straight for the water. With a final scramble down a rocky incline, they came to the island shore. If they kept low they would not be easily seen; the incline would shield them from view of the Institute. Keeping low, then, and stepping carefully on the rocky shore, the children made their way toward the bridge.

It had stopped raining, but the night remained cold and windy. Before the children had gone half the distance to the bridge, the wind began to carry a strong, spicy scent to their noses. The odor of a familiar cologne. They stopped and looked around, seeing nothing. Then a shadow detached itself from the rocky incline and took on the general form — if not the exact appearance — of Milligan. He certainly smelled like a Recruiter, Reynie thought, but for some reason he seemed un-Recruiter-like. He was dressed in a fine suit; he wore watches on both wrists; and his hair, though quite wet as Kate had mentioned, was perfectly combed. So what was it?

It was the smile, Reynie realized, or rather the lack of one. He’d never been near a Recruiter who wasn’t smiling, and certainly not one who looked inconsolably sad.

“I’m sorry not to have fetched you myself,” Milligan said, “but this was the safer course. A Recruiter on the shore alone may or may not draw suspicion, but a Recruiter in the student dormitory most certainly would.”

“What’s going on, Milligan?” Kate asked.

“I’m to take you away,” Milligan said.

The children were stunned.

“Away?” Reynie repeated. “You mean off the island?”

Milligan produced four black cloaks — no one saw from where — and held them out. “Put these on and draw them tight. They’ll help conceal you. If we run into trouble, stay close and don’t worry. I’ll die before I let harm come to any of you.”

“Don’t worry?” Sticky said. “Don’t
worry
? You’re talking about dying and we’re not to worry? What’s happening, Milligan?”

“There’s little time for explanation, Sticky. I can get you to the mainland, but we must make our way to the other side of the island, and it will be slow going.”

“But
why
are we going?” Kate said.

“Your mission is completed.”

Reynie felt an enormous pressure lift from his shoulders. Completed! That meant he wouldn’t be tested anymore! No more worrying about failing everyone. He could leave the island without ever facing the Whisperer again. Yes, it was time to go: Just thinking of the Whisperer filled him with longing, even made him want to stay….

“Completed?” Kate said. She seemed suspicious. “Does that mean Mr. Benedict has a plan now? He thinks he can stop Mr. Curtain?”

“You mustn’t worry about that, Kate,” said Milligan. “Please put the cloak on.”