Long Division (33 page)

And sometimes I struggled. For the sentences were absolutely baffling. I listened to James’s breathing as I read, attempting to concentrate—which had grown a little more difficult, for one of his hands had slipped from my belly and now rested between my legs. I’d reread the same sentence about four times, mind much more focused on my sleeping friend and his inadvertent pressure when I finally was able to realise what I was reading. They were talking about…gardening of all things.

It was odd, but it felt like such a contrived conversation I managed to yank my mind from sleepy wandering hands and to the words. I wasn’t sure who the people were.
S,
I was fairly sure, was Slater. The other letters, I hadn’t the foggiest.

I scanned over the conversation quickly, then went back again. Something about it just needled at me.

H: MORE TIME IS REQUIRED TO DISTRIBUTE THE SEEDS FOR THE FLOWER SHOW.

C: WHAT ABOUT THE GARDENER? I THOUGHT WE WERE TOLD THE SEEDS WERE READY. ARE WE CERTAIN?

H: YES. SEEDS ARE READY. FLOWER IS THRIVING AND WILL BE READY TO SPREAD SEEDS ON TIME.

C: AND THE LAST OF THE WEEDS? HAVE THEY BEEN TAKEN OUT?

S: THERE’S ONE MORE; NEEDS PULLING, BUT WON’T BE A PROBLEM. OUR GARDEN WILL BE CLEAN BY TOMORROW NIGHT.

H: JUST SEE THAT THERE’S NO ROOTS LEFT BEHIND.

S: I ALWAYS DO.

C: AND OUR DEAR FLOWER?

H: GROWING BEAUTIFULLY. RESPONDS TO EVERY STIMULI WE’VE GIVEN IT. NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT. IT’S STABLE.

C: WONDERFUL. THIS WILL BE A SHOW TO REMEMBER.

I frowned at it. One would think these people
enjoyed
all of this ridiculous subterfuge? I’d simply feel a fool. I gazed at the sentences, at the words that really didn’t fit InVizion. The first part made no sense to me whatsoever, so, on to the second.

The “Gardener”, someone whom they had been in contact with, probably not one of their own. He was talking about seeds…I read over the rest of it, brain ticking.

What if the seeds were the tumours? I reread a sentence and decided it sounded plausible. If that were true, then would the Gardener be Dr Baker?

MORE TIME IS REQUIRED TO DISTRUBUTE THE TUMOURS FOR THE FLOWER SHOW.

Okay, so it didn’t make much sense. I pressed on.

WHAT ABOUT DR BAKER? I THOUGHT WE WERE TOLD THE TUMOURS WERE READY. ARE WE SURE?

YES. THE TUMOURS ARE READY. FLOWER IS THRIVING AND WILL BE READY TO SPREAD TUMOURS ON TIME.

Flower. What the hell was the flower? Would that be the transmission? James stirred, hand once again dragging my attention much too willingly to where it rested. It sent a warm wash of blood through me that settled comfortably pleasant. Was James the flower?

I reread the first sentence, replacing “Flower Show” with “James”, but it still didn’t read right. I ignored that one for now.

YES. THE TUMOURS ARE FLAWLESS. JAMES NIGHTGOOD IS THRIVING AND WILL BE READY TO SPREAD TUMOURS ON TIME.

Possibly. Could work.

The rest of it I couldn’t find words to insert. Weeds, I imagined that referred to Dr Baker, and perhaps any others who’d worked on the project. People to be taken care of. Eliminated. Like Baker had been. And Fox. Like James had every right to have been.

My eyes darted back to the flower show. If everything else made sense, then what the hell was that about? A slight spark of hope started in my belly. Could that possibly refer to the Final Phase? Made sense.

But…what if it was more than that?

It couldn’t…couldn’t possibly be a
date
could it?

I quickly pulled up the
Times
webpage and started scanning. Lots of rubbish I didn’t care about, financial issues, terrorist threats, immigration…

And then, there it was. The Chelsea Flower Show.

And it was set for tomorrow.

My stomach went tight, and it had nothing to do with my slumbering friend.

The Final Phase was tomorrow.

22:Brain Waves

I didn’t know what to do. If I should tell him, or not. I just felt a cold dread settle inside my belly. I glanced at the clock. It was still early. Not yet ten. Time. Still had time. I felt a sort of frantic urgency now. Probably how a rat felt—trapped. I stared back at the tower.

‘Oh, damn it all. Damn. It. All.’

James muttered in his sleep and stirred awake, removing the pleasantly placed hand. He blinked groggily. ‘S—say something?’ He looked on the point of being sick. Nausea, from the pressure in his head.

I reached out to press my knuckles lightly under his chin, because I wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be willing to hold his head up on his own. His soft lips pulled up into a grim smile.

‘Will you let me talk to you?’

‘About the tower?’

I squared my jaw and nodded. ‘Yes. About that.’

He shook his head. ‘No.’ His eyes became a little clearer. ‘But I need to talk to you about it.’

My throat went inexplicably tighter at that statement.
He
needed to talk to me? I had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t going to be something I wanted to hear. I cleared my throat in an attempt to break my inability to speak. ‘Okay. What…what do you need to talk about?’

‘I can’t destroy it. I can’t break in. I can’t do any of that. You know I can’t. The very idea of…leaving the flat again is too exhausting for me to even consider.’

I sighed and nodded. ‘Yeah. I know.’ They’d recognise him anyway. I’d no idea how I’d even get him inside.

‘But
you
may be able to.’

He’d stunned me. My brain struggled to work out a possible path his reasoning had taken. I wasn’t coming up with much. ‘I’m afraid I don’t follow you.’

‘I am not capable of what you want from me. But I believe you can. With my help.’

There was silence except for that of the city, which might as well have been silence, for it never really stopped.

‘I think you need to explain. How can I do it with your help? You wanting me to just waltz in there with you on my phone, telling me which computers to bash up with a cricket bat? They know who I am just as well as they know you, James.’

James scowled at me. ‘No of course not, don’t be ridiculous! You would be caught before you were through the door!’

It was an effort to keep my eyes from rolling. ‘What then, James? What?’

‘You were right with the assumption that I have been…capable of things with my mind that are…more advanced than that of others.’ He shifted. ‘And my abilities have, in recent months, seemed to have expanded rapidly.’ He spoke hesitantly. ‘I’ve become aware of my capability to sense...’

He stopped and ran a hand through his hair. I could practically feel his extreme unease. And before I could push him, he began to talk very, very fast.

‘You see, in my life, I’ve never been able to really….connect with people; to understand. I’ve never been able to see from another’s point of perspective. To…sympathise.’

I nodded. ‘I know.’ I waited. When he did not respond, ‘has something changed?’

He was silent for a moment. ‘Yes. I think so. Though I do not know how to process it. All I know is…I have been…since this all started…
sensing
others around me. Not just in the manner that I am aware of their existence but I can
sense
them. I can…sense you.’

I felt an odd tingling go running all through my nerves when he said that. It was frightening, strange, exciting. And I didn’t understand it; the electricity it had sparked in me. James had never expressed any such conscious feeling of those around him in the past. And now he was somehow aware? Aware of
me?

I cleared my throat again, mindful of the wobble my voice carried. ‘And I’m sorry for being so slow to all of this, but how does that help me breaking into InVizion?’

The seconds ticked away.

‘Because, Mark, when I say I can sense you, I mean I can
sense
you. Everything: Your beating heart, the pull of your lungs…the…the thoughts running through your head! Every little emotion you feel towards me—my hand on your crotch! I know how that felt for you.’

I felt my face going warm. ‘I don’t understand…how is that even possible?’

He didn’t reply.

‘So, how exactly does you sensing my feelings help?’

He pressed his lips together in a brief grimace. ‘Because, Mark. I can…read your mind. I can break into your head. I can…
influence
you. In more ways than perhaps even I know.’

My throat made a weird noise. ‘Influence me. You mean like the device. Make me do things.’ It sent my stomach into an odd sort of spiral. I felt betrayed.

‘You would have noticed it if I’d brought it to your attention. Little nudges here and there. Perhaps I’ve responded to things you’ve been thinking in a way that has surprised you.’

I ground my teeth. Yeah. He had done that. And as weird as I’d found it, I’d just brushed it aside. Dismissed it. Our little…
encounter
those weeks back felt all the less spontaneous now.

‘Right now you’re feeling you can’t trust me, am I correct?’

I looked away, back to the tower. ‘So you think I can just do what you can, simply because you can get into my head?’

He looked at me pointedly and I started to laugh, a nervous, shaking laugh that didn’t sound like me.

‘You’re mad! What can I do? I can’t do what you’ve done! Hold an entire square of people hostage! Do what—you did to Slater!’

‘You don’t know that! I can do it, through you, I know I can. I haven’t pushed too far be—because I didn’t think you’d like it.’

I swore. ‘Well you’re damn right about that! Screwing around in my head. Bloody hell, James, how could you?’

He twisted. ‘I couldn’t help it, Mark! It’s just…there! I couldn’t help it! I sense everything now and it hurts!’ His hands fluttered up to the sides of his head and clenched there. ‘It hurts! And I can’t bear it! Out of all the minds I’ve felt yours is the most calming. I have to cling to you, Mark. You’re the only thing that keeps the pain away.’

I didn’t want to believe that. But at the same time, without knowing it, I’d sort of taken it upon myself, hadn’t I? And because I’d been the one who wanted to make him feel better, and not worse, I reached out to touch his face, to try and calm him.

‘Okay. It’s okay. I’m not angry. If that’s the way it is, then there’s not much you can do about it, is there? It’s just a surprise you’ve dropped on me. I’ve just had my world shaken, that’s all. I’ve learnt too much, I guess. If you think there’s something I can do then you’re going to have to help me, because I’m at a loss.’

He closed his eyes and sat there for an agonisingly long moment. ‘I don’t know what will happen. I believe I can do it, but…I don’t know what it will do to you.’

I massaged my temples. ‘You think it could…damage me, is that what you’re saying?’

James’s eyes did not open. ‘There are certain barriers I feel, Mark, thin membranes of skin I’ve been afraid to break through. I don’t know what will happen when I do.’

His descriptive language was a little hard to work out but I thought I understood. He’d never pushed his power. He felt some sort of protection in my head that maybe was a warning to not go any farther. Because something bad would happen.

‘If you could,’ I spoke hesitantly, because that was how I felt about this entire thing, ‘if you could make it work, would you be able to…influence me from here all the way to there?’ I pointed to the tower, unsubstantial in the fog.

James’s lips twitched and his eyes cracked open. ‘I sense you all the time, Mark. I needed a mind to focus on in all the noise and yours was the one I linked to. I do not believe distance will impair that ability.’

My stomach churned. It was properly terrifying to consider turning my brain over to James. However, if my mind would simply be gone in a day’s time, there wasn’t really much to lose, was there?

‘All right,’ my heart was thudding, ‘well, if you think you can make this work, then we had better try, hadn’t we? I can’t be expected to go without any sort of practice.’

James may not have known we had a deadline, but it ate away at my mind like his cancer. If this was something we were going to do, we had to do it tonight.

James turned nervous. He shifted. ‘Mark, I—’

I shook my head. ‘No. This happens now. Pour yourself a tea; take a piss, whatever you need to do. Then we start.’

He didn’t stir, as I’d suggested, but seemed to focus on a thought. I braced myself for whatever his move would be. I was a little hazy on the details of what would happen. Would I even notice?

The only way I could describe the experience was as if a door had been opened in my mind. I could feel it swing, first nothing more than a crack, almost unnoticeable as James eased in, and then it was thrown wide, jarring me.

My thoughts were swept aside in a flurry of activity, buzzing like the internet. Thousands of signals and pulses and messages I’d never been aware of went rushing through me. I felt as if I’d stepped into a stream. The current was too fast for me, but my footing held. I let it all rush past, forced myself to relax. I wasn’t sure how I’d hold up, otherwise.

Buried beneath this rushing river of electric signals was a great, twisting presence, as if some giant fish were lurking just under the surface, keeping near me, directing the flow around it with each flick and twitch of its fins.

I let out a breath and allowed the flood of equations and formulas to rush over me.

‘Every thread rushing past you is something I can potentially control,’
the thing beneath the current said.

It flicked one of its appendages and my left hand rose. Flashes of white went shooting down the blue river and out of sight. The fingers of my hand spread. I let out a shaky, disbelieving gasp.

‘Good. As long as you don’t resist I believe we can make this work.’

It was an effort to
not
do that now that he’d drawn attention to it, sort of like trying not to think about anything and being aware of it. When I thought about it the stream would push away from me, part, like I was some sort of water repellent. I struggled to relax, focus on allowing the thing beneath the tide to do its work.

‘Open your eyes.’

Weren’t they open? I looked round at the blue ocean of sparking lights. No. This wasn’t the flat. My eyes couldn’t be opened.

‘Not sure I can.’

More lights went blinking down the wide river. And then the river was gone. I was back in the flat. James’s eyes were closed. He was sitting across from me just as before, unmoving. Concentrating. Like he did when he was working a particularly difficult problem. The stream was still there, flowing through my mind, and out, into…well, I couldn’t explain it. Just out of my mind. Perhaps into James’s, but I couldn’t be sure. I was simply part of the channel, and my head didn’t matter.

‘We need to practice manipulating something. Something beyond thought. Otherwise I won’t know if this will work.’

I straightened my back. ‘I’m ready. Or as ready as I suppose I can be.’

He nodded stiffly. It was the first response I’d seen from him. So, he could still hear me from that rushing river he was in.
‘There is a book on the table, yes?’

My eyes darted to the table at my knees where a large, heavy textbook was sitting. It took me a moment before I realised it was the one James had demonstrated with. The one he’d mentally flipped through as if it had been nothing the first time we’d met.

‘So, what are we going to do?’ I asked, fixating on the worn edges of the book, maybe memorising how it looked would help James.

‘You’re going to lift it.’

I started a hand forward but another force inside pulled it back.
‘No. Not that way.’

The stream in my head started to change course. And then, in my head, floating along beneath the surface, came the book.

I stared at the tome on the table, feeling the current push beneath it. My heart gave a lurch in my chest as I saw it
actually
wobble. And then, gradually, almost reluctantly, it pushed up from the flat solid of the table and hovered just centimetres above it, bobbing.

James pushed the flow and I felt it pass through me, down my arm in blinking lights, and out my hand. The wave washed through the tips of my fingers and hit the book. It rose a surprising foot above the table and I watched in fascination as it started to turn and bob. It was awkward; didn’t have the elegant control that James had had. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to turn the pages with this lapping current pushing out of my fingertips but, it was a start, wasn’t it?

And, for what I pictured in my mind to do to InVizion, I wasn’t really planning on being delicate.

The book wobbled and then fell back to the table with a
thump!

I’d lost my connection. James’s eyes opened and the door inside my head slammed shut. I felt strange now that it was gone. Empty. My brain went mushy.