The Power of Forgetting (37 page)

'Right.
Thanks.'

I passed into
the main area. Marcia is sitting down holding an empty cup that
could have had tea in it. Andrew is sitting nearby with a copy of
"New Scientist" opened out on his knees. Janey and Davey are not
there. Oliver is laid along the bench with his eyes shut.

'It's a full
moon.' said Marcia.

Oliver opens
his eyes a fraction. He is looking at me silently.

I sat down in a
vacant camping chair. I heard the soft hiss of the wind without.
Andrew peers at me for a moment then goes back to his magazine.

We are bowling
along at a fair old speed. Oliver is sitting in the back with me.
Joe is driving. He threads the way along a narrow track. We will
soon start to drop down into the valley near the sea. Marcia won't
let me drive; she has set Davey on the next shift. Oliver was
looking tired. He lay down then on the padded seat. He watched me
as we rumbled along. Everyone is very quiet. Janey is poring
through her notes. She is hoping to find the common denominator
between all the test subjects. She was chewing on the end of a
biro, and frowning. Andrew is helping her, holding the sheets and
sorting them out. Davey looked back at her and smiled. He turned in
his seat and continued watching the road ahead in the navigator's
seat. Marcia leaned over to talk to Joe. The road was starting to
drop down. We are slowing.

'How far to the
channel?' Marcia said, and added, 'anything yet Janey?'

'It's not
certain…. this is like trying to do a jigsaw when you don't have
the picture.' Janey sounded exasperated.

Oliver opened
his eyes for a moment and glanced at me. Andrew handed Janey
another sheet.

'Outside
temperature is still stable.' Joe said, 'I'll stop by that big
rock.'

Marcia and I
got out. Joe came and joined us. I could see the inlet to the tidal
channel. The tide was halfway between high and low.

'Still coming
in.' Joe took the binoculars off me, and adjusted the focusing ring
carefully.

'There's a
sheltered area down there; look. To the right of those broken
rocks,' Marcia turns to me, 'we need to find a place for everyone
to rest until low tide.'

Joe exchanged a
glance with her then, and said 'we will make the end of the
peninsular by night fall if we are going steady and don't have any
hold ups. Where did Hanson say Lorraine's chalet is?'

'Out near the
western most tip,' Marcia said, 'There's a lot of forest in the
way…. We might need to chance it nearer the beach.'

'That is
possible,' Joe sounded doubtful, 'but we need to stay hidden, if we
can. There's really not much point in all of this, if we all get
arrested.'

'Andrew and
Janey won't; they're supposed to be there.' Marcia pointed out.

'If they are
found with any of us, I think this Mr Rimmington may change his
mind.' Joe retorted.

'So he might.'
Marcia put a hand to her forehead. I knew that sign. She was still
tired. We climbed back in, and set off down a bumpy incline. I felt
useless and a bit guilty. The curious nature of my miraculous
survival was only a day and a half old. I followed Oliver's example
and rested on the other long seat.

By two pm we
had lost our view of the river, and were brushing through large
banana plant-like leaves. Joe swapped again with Davey. Oliver was
still asleep. Janey seemed grimly satisfied that the data she had
got was beginning to make sense. Andrew climbed into the front to
help guide us through the jungle.

After about
another three quarters of an hour of this, we ran out into an open
glade surrounded by rocky deposits, like the lumpy side of a
misshapen house built by an untidy wizard. The plants began to get
smaller, and the road even more bumpy.

Suddenly we
stopped. At first no one was sure of the delay. Joe put it into
reverse and edged back a full vehicle length.

There was a
drop into the swirling tide below. We were further over than we
thought. The tide was high now, and could have been reaching the
turn. We could go no further on this route and had to then
backtrack about a mile and a half to find a narrow road down. It
was quite steep, but it brought us out near to a sandy cove into
which a freshwater stream bubbled. It strung out of the ground from
some deep underground spring about fifty yards back up a steep
incline. As we looked up, we could see the little lip of the land
where we had looked out in the last hour, high above our heads.

Marcia told
them all to take a break. Joe was looking again through those
binoculars. He had a distracted air, and I began to wonder if he
was seeing something we weren't. But by four o'clock the tide was
receding. There was a way across. The channel of the seat was like
a set of giant steps underneath the waterline. I imagined the tide
running along the level causeway, as we tried to out run it. It was
firm and rocky and with a solid, howbeit bumpy path wide enough for
our buggy.

Marcia had
other idea. She talked to Oliver and Joe. And then we all gathered
together.

'We will leave
the vehicle here,' she said, 'we walk from here. Everyone will be
given a start-up code. The route through the mountains on the way
back is one to avoid if possible. If we a not at a full complement
-for whatever reason, I would like to be sure that we can all use
the buggy.'

I stared into
my tea. I didn't say anything. It was difficult to find a reason to
speak. The little breezes that freshly invaded our minds and our
lungs were part of it. And that absolute silence punctuated only by
the sound of wavy water and the rustling of the subtropical
forest.

Perhaps it was
this place; but even Hanson, who normally had plenty to say for
himself when he wasn't otherwise engaged in showing off by reading
fashionable literature; was subdued and spoke in almost a
whisper.... mainly to Janey. She was still gnawing down the end of
her biro as we laid out our equipment ready to make up the packs.
She knelt down on the fine turf and tucked her small journal into
the walking pack. Nothing was missing from her personal kit.
Nothing had been touched; not even clothes, which made me wonder if
the strange girl at the beach had been a figment of my deranged
imagination after all. But some habit of mind, or effort of the
will, drew the reluctant conclusion that it had been real. But
exactly what real meant in this case was open to interpretation.
All at once I saw that "Amber" and Evil Janey (for so I must make
the distinction) were not the same after all. At least an hour
later as I started to check the kit, it occurred to me that Amber
had different eyes. They were a kind of green-gold; whereas Janey's
were a striking blue-violet that seemed to run to deep Indigo when
she was in a serious scientific mood. Shockingly that was the one
thing I couldn't recall about the nameless one who had poisoned me,
taking Janey's form as she did so. Apparently the "Something" that
had contaminated the experiment was some essence that had will and
reason; but was devoid of conscience. It was certainly ruthless.
And then, as if a veil had been drawn aside, I remembered the
dreadful Monster that one of the Mr Alexanders became. Davey told
me that he thought I had seen Mr Alexander before that day, by the
way I had reacted: as if I had seen an old adversary. Janey has a
theory: - that the mind is not tied to time and that is why we see
things that are new to us as being familiar. The most common
expression of this is the Deja Vue moment. But there are others.
"The quantum spaces inside the mind" is how Janey's theory has been
described. She says that we may have the ability to move time from
the past into the future. Janey thinks that this applies to all
people, not just travellers. But being a traveller makes you most
able to access that part of the mind. I looked up then at the
violet vacuity of the summer sky. The breeze moves, hushes and
stops. Janey comes towards me, a question in her eyes. The others
are quickly checking the packs, fetching, rearranging, and getting
ready for our foray once we reach low tide.

'Will you
promise one thing?' she asked me.

'What thing?'
my voice is a whisper too.

She takes my
right hand and turns it over. She traces a fingertip down my palm.
I shudder, and feel cold.

'I want you to
destroy the double if we meet it.'

I met her gaze
fully then, she is serious and her eyes are troubled. I don't know
how to respond. I feel.... ambivalent; and a little tense. Janey is
still looking into my eyes. She isn't trying to invade my mind. She
doesn't have to; I am giving myself away. Amber....as she called
herself is out there somewhere. I cannot; I will not promise to
take her life. Janey is being very clever. As I say "Err...." she
knows that I have met that other. And she can feel and see my
feelings from all those micro signals. Her scientific observation
coupled with good instincts. I wonder with an indrawn breath if my
psyche profile is among her subject lists. But they haven't copied
me.... or so I always believed.

'I'm sorry.' I
said and dropped my eyes.

'That's okay.'
she said and laid her other hand over mine, 'I understand now. And
I won't tell. When she does come back.... tell her to run. Tell her
to go home. The others won't understand.'

'Home? Does she
have one?'

'Of course,'
said Janey, and tapped her finger tips lightly on my wrist.

Perhaps it was
that simple action. But then something was dredged back from the
deep well of memory. Janey was there too, holding my hand just as
she did now. We were children. And we stood near Auntie Zee's
House, in a sunlit patch of lawn. And there before us was another
little girl. She came and joined us. She took my other hand. A girl
in a primrose dress with curls the colour of warm wood that has
been polished with beeswax. She smiled at me, and said "Come and
Play". I looked at her and saw long- lashed eyes of green-gold.
Even there, I felt drawn to her….

Janey let go of
my hand. She stood calmly thoughtful.

'I understand'
she said at last. She hugged me briefly and then went back to her
pack. I turned away to look towards the sea. I had done all I
needed to. I waited as the others took the long ride through doubt,
with unnecessary checks and discussion about what needed to go with
us.

Marcia called
us all to the buggy.

'The codes are
here,' she indicated the clipboard Davey held, 'I want you all to
memorise the start code and the immobilisation code. Then the hard
copy and the file on our computer will be fully erased.'

'I thought it
is pass word protected.' Hanson asked in a humble hesitant voice.
Marcia seemed surprised by his manner, but then answered: 'I want
there to be no chance that anyone other than us will be able to use
our transport. This might be our only means of escape. We have to
prioritise…Janey and Davey will be going after the hard drive
records. Joe, Myself and Jared will be searching for our own
people. When I say our own…. I mean originals and copies.' She
looked hard at Joe for a moment and then continued, '…we will only
destroy a copy on the same terms as before; if they are
uncooperative to us. It may help to keep us hidden from view. Also,
know this - The black box has more than just a recording function.
It can detect a number of other things as well. Bio-signals from
anything that is in range and certainly anyone who has contacted
the copy by say, touching their hand. So keep back from anyone you
might meet. We will only touch them if they actually need our help.
Please stick to this. There is a chance that we are already well on
the way towards having to make a run for it once the information
has been obtained from the hard drives.'

'What about
Oliver?' Hanson again.

'He can
interview Lorraine. You're with him Andrew.' Marcia seemed bitterly
amused about something.

'Oh…' Hanson
looked down; I think there was something that we had all missed.
The Lorraine business was something that I couldn't think about
clearly. The only person who was guaranteed to not want to either
strangle her, or have sex with her - was Oliver. Not a comforting
thought. It wasn't something that you could really understand
unless you'd actually met her. I was glad that Davey would be
quickly removed from her vicinity, despite his conviction that such
a woman would have no effect on him; I thought the safe option was
to keep her out of his way. Janey was frowning. I guessed rightly
that Janey's opinion of the girl in question had not improved much
in the intervening three years despite Lorraine's recent desire to
help our team. She must be very scared of something to want to side
with our lot that badly. We weren't the glamorous crooks that she
had been used to dealing with. In my time, Lorraine had shown a
distinct preference for dubious characters that populated the edges
of her social circle; drug dealers and such; the soft ends of some
very hard wedges. She thought she could charm her way out of
anything. The only other person who had shown such ego was of
course Hanson. His new and rather disturbing level of concern for
her wellbeing was indicative of something other than an amour de
Coeur. She was genuinely afraid; and I had never seen Hanson so
unsure of himself. I wanted to know why he had come with the other
three. Perhaps I was the one he needed. Yet he was still on the
payroll of Mr Charles. Marcia, as if reading my mind addressed us
all again:

'Andrew is to
call in to their headquarters this evening from the radio set in
Lorraine's chalet. We are all going to have to give some trust
here. Something is going to blow up in a day or so. One of the
experiments is coming to an end. The trail period is up and there
will be a meeting of the Nimbus scientists and some of the
sponsors. We don't know where… Janey… please continue...'