Hadrian's Wall (50 page)

“Much safer than a hard copy,” I added.

“No doubt, because it
always seems that someone wants to read the things you write in the
hard copy of your diary or your day-planner. Thus, you control what
you want to publish and the whole thing is protected against
eavesdropping gossips.
Nor can an experienced hacker circumvent the firewalls
designed specifically for your address book.”

“Firewalls? What’s
that?”

“In general terms, they are
security systems. People usually have one on their home computer.
You have three, designed according for the complexity of your
access ports. All high level.” He pointed to the keyboard, changing
the subject. “Look this, set up for a blog or writing a diary will
help your training for the essay portion of the test. You can also
use it when you’re completing your application for admission to the
university.”

In the next few minutes, he showed me
briefly how to use the main programs and their controls.

“It’s very similar to a
smartphone,” he said. “Actually, your PDA incorporates it with some
additional advantages for a draftsman or writer. Say that you want
to remember a more realistic format for your diary, such as what’s
written on a sheet of paper. The cursor can be configured to
emulate your handwriting.”

“How?” I asked, amazed.

Walter pulled a small screen coupled
underneath the keyboard and took a stylus from his pocket.

“Accessory number one,” he said, showing it
to me.

After selecting some
commands, he began writing very slowly with the stylus on the
screen. As the image of the letters formed on the screen, they were
captured by one of the computer’s programs. He then gave another
command and began to type new text on the keyboard that appeared on
the screen in a manner that looked identical to what he’d written
by hand with the stylus.

“Wow!” I said.

Walter had touched
multiple command keys, but without explaining anything to me. When
the silence ensued again, he casually said, “Ignore those settings.
They’re essential to the formatting of the devices and ensuring the
PDA’s good
performance, but you won’t use
them for what you’ll be doing.”
I
suspected it was not only that. At a glance, I visualized a map in
two dimensions and a blinking red ball moving near the screen and
then positioned right in the center of the screen. It looked like a
geographical map. He clicked several times with astonishing speed.
Walter had the skill of a gamer.

Then the screen went dark. He returned to
click a few commands and the program that opened the Internet came
up, so he minimized it on the screen.

“Ready? Your electronic
schedule is configured to send and receive e-mails, among other
things. The rest you’ll learn by digging...experimenting,” he said
softly. “It will be very easy.”

“Yeah! It’s a piece of
cake!” I said, grimacing comically.

If he realized my irony, he
didn’t show it.

“If you have any questions, please call my
cell phone. In fact, I recorded my number in your memory schedule,
along with useful telephone numbers and addresses of the town. Then
you can transfer the file to the phone, if you want.

I haven’t got a cell
phone, so I wasn’t worried about it just yet
.

I bent down to take a peek
at the screen. Nothing remained the complicated symbols that he’d
just opened. The only thing different was the wallpaper, which now
displayed the beautiful Bluewater Lake.

Looking at his wristwatch again, Walter said
something about “having to get back to The Pine Tree before the
curfew.” I looked at the time, which he’d set on the digital clock
of my electronic schedule. It was still early, but I decided not to
comment on his obsession about the time. He seemed nervous and
rushed when he picked up his things and stood up. I did the same
and accompanied him to the door.

“Accessory number two and
number three, respectively,” he said. “Headphones, in case you want
to listen to your MP3 or something...and this is the smart battery
of your PDA, if you need to recharge it on a computer.” Solemnly,
he placed the small objects wrapped in plastic into my hands. “I
believe that you’ll hardly ever need accessory number three. You’ll
only need the solar battery.”

“Unless Nostradamus and da Vinci were
right...” I joked.

He took a while to get it, but when the
penny dropped, he let out a booming laugh.

“Well, in that case, my dear, neither of the
two batteries will be useful,” he replied, amused at my humor.

I put the headphones and the battery on the
dresser and we walked down the outside corridor.

The side door of my room
suddenly opened. I looked back and
saw
Delilah.
My
room
is connected to hers
, I realized. What an
interesting...coincidence!

“Hey!” She came running toward us,
smiling.

Something curious
happened. When Delilah got close to Walter, her eyes widened. In
turn, he straightened his shoulders. I felt there was some kind of
silent dialogue going on there. She hesitated for a split second
and then resumed her usual
coquettish
attitude.

“Mel, we’re leaving for the
party soon. Don’t forget your swimsuit.”

Only then did I notice that
she was already wearing a bathing suit. Her black bathing suit was
a one-piece with white stripes on both sides, the kind used in
swimming lessons. Around her waist, she’d tied a large beach wrap,
in the same color as her bathing suit, clearly
improvised.

I scratched my head,
thinking of all the reasons I shouldn’t go to that party. My
nervousness did not go unnoticed by Walter.
Hmmm...
He and Adrian had one more
characteristic in common: They both had the ability to understand
my silence and my body language. I looked away, trying to find a
polite excuse.

Well, the first argument that came to mind
was not necessarily the most important: I had no bathing suit.
However, it seemed to be the most useful obstacle. The second
argument that was far more important was around my chest. The
uncomfortable brace was a constant reminder of my inability to
participate in aquatic activities.

Apparently, everyone knew
that I had been hospitalized. Thus, it wouldn’t be difficult to use
that situation as an excuse to not go; however, Delilah’s reaction
wasn’t what I expected. I thought that she’d accept...well, she’d
save me the hassle of explaining what was already obvious.
Just so happens that the girl had a cow about
it.

“No problem at all! You
don’t have to go into the water with us.” First, she pointed her
index finger at me like Eddie Murphy’s Rasputia and then began to
appeal. “Are you coming, are you, Mel? To keep me company. Please!
Please! Please!”

I was greatly puzzled.
Delilah didn’t need me to go to the party because she had Abby and
the others guys. I almost expressed my confusion, but I bit my
tongue. The girl was acting desperate for the benefit of my present
company. That had never happened to me before and I confess that I
didn’t know how to behave.

Walter met my gaze and frowned.

“I think I’ll be going,
Miss Baker,” he said, loo
king at his watch
for the umpteenth
time.

“Please
call me, Melissa.”

We started walking again...with Delilah on
our heels.

“All right, Melissa. See
you tomorrow... Have a fun party!” He rolled his eyes, careful that
Delilah didn’t see him do that.

I stood at the door of the
hallway while Walter crossed the porch. I didn’t like to see him
leave so early. His company was very pleasant, even with the aura
of mystery that surrounded him’—something common among the weird,
pale people. Besides, I’d like to know more about his relationship
with the Cahills as well as the school where he was studying. It
could only be a prison, otherwise, why would he have to get back
there in such a hurry? It would be some kind of internship?
R
eform school
?
Maybe a military school...?

I turned to the side and realized that
Delilah was still looking at the porch. Attracted by my eyes, she
looked at me with inquisitive face. I avoided answering the
question that I read in her eyes. Obviously, she wanted to know why
I needed an instructor. As there was nothing to explain, I went to
the subject that really interested me in this moment.

“Delilah, I don’t know if I
should go to that party. I...”

She started to protest, apparently having
already forgotten about my instructor. Dramatic and insistent, she
interrupted all my feeble attempts at argument.

“Friends should support
each other, shouldn’t they?” she asked.

Even considering her strange despair, I
found strength in myself to tell her no, again. She became visibly
upset.

Once she’d wrenched my
reluctant consent from me, Delilah finally left me alone and went
to her room. Before shutting the door, she shouted over her
shoulder that I should meet her on the porch within five
minutes.

With a weary sigh, I returned to my own
bedroom. I leaned against the door, looking around wearily. The
study material that Walter left for me was spread on the bed; the
PDA and accessories remained on the dresser; and my suitcase was
partially visible under the bed. I decided to put everything away
before I met the group. If I was late, no problem. They really
could leave without me, right?

After putting things in
their proper places, I realized that the PDA was still on the
dresser.
Would it be prudent to leave it
there, in plain sight?
Walter said that no
one can access its contents.
I could lock
the door, but I think that wasn’t usually done
here
. At least not most of the time.
Prudence won out and I decided to hide it inside the drawer of
clothes.

I went to the door and
hesitated again.
Should I lock the
window?
After all, it overlooked the
garden, which in turn overlooked the street...and before I find
another excuse to stay, I finished this task and left.

18

ON TRIAL

I leaned against the cold
door and closed my eyes for a moment.
When
did my life turned upside down?

The image of Bob’s truck
entering the gas station in Berlin appeared in my mind. Whatever
the truth about the events that brought me here, if I were not so
determined to leave the past behind, I would not have met the
incredible Cahills...nor have the chance to attend one of the best
universities in the world.

Destiny follows strange
paths
.

I was still thinking about
it when I was startled by a muffled sound behind me. I opened the
door and looked inside the quiet room. It looked just like I’d left
it, but I could swear I heard someone moving around
inside.

Despite the fact that it
was still daylight, I turned on the light. I could feel the hair on
the back of my neck standing on end. There was someone in there,
but it wasn’t physical person. It was as if someone had just passed
through without leaving palpable traces...except a strange
vibration.

I went to the closet and
threw open the doors. I knew I was behaving like one of the idiotic
protagonists of horror movies—that instead of running away from
danger, they ran to meet it. But I couldn’t help myself. Thankfully
no one was hiding in there, otherwise, I might be dead now...and
dismembered, but not necessarily in that order.

I approached the window and checked the
outside. Among the pansies on the parapet I could see part of the
yard, trees with leaves not moving. There was no breeze to relieve
the heat. The stifling temperatures that had befallen the region in
recent days generated serious doubts about the season coming to an
end. Alerts were still being issued by monitoring centers,
reminding the local population about hydration and avoiding
prolonged exposure to the sun. Some regions were still under threat
of tornadoes.

Absentmindedly, I touched the handle of the
window and a sudden realization froze my hand in the place. I
turned and pushed the handle back and forth repeatedly. A faint cry
died in my throat. I had locked both windows minutes ago, but now
they were slightly ajar. I jerked them closed and locked them and
then I rushed out.

I didn’t know what to do
about this situation. After all, I’d caught no one inside. The
whole thing could well be a figment of
my
imagination.
Maybe, but I know I locked
the damn window!

Passing through the front room, I saw Keyra
McPherson talking with two young men who were as pale as she. There
was a counter next to them, dividing the area into two parts: the
living room itself, and a reception area. One corner was filled
with bins affixed to the wall below the curved staircase.

Keyra looked up and gave my
clothes a quick once over, probably wondering why I wasn’t wearing
a bathing suit like the others. Her face was indifferent, but the
look in her eagle eyes gave me chills. She waved and smiled
impersonally. The two young men who were with her stopped talking
and stared at me. Now there were three pairs of eyes piercing me
like laser beams.