The Power of Forgetting (40 page)

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Authors: A M Russell

Tags: #adventure, #fantasy, #science fiction, #Contemporary, #a, #book three, #cloud field series

BOOK: The Power of Forgetting
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'Hey…. how are
you Lorrie?' I spoke softly as she had done, hoping perhaps to
elicit some response that told me how things were really with
Hanson. I guessed rightly that she was far more interested in him,
that he was in her. His reasons for doing what he had done became
confused at that point. Or rather I was confused. She bent over me
and pressed those willing lips into mine. I didn't push back, or
move forward. I made no movement with my arms. But I could feel a
response. Wine I suppose…. She knew me so well; that side at least.
A couple of glasses of wine, and she could get me into bed, when we
had been together, whatever preoccupation of mind I did have at the
time. Lorraine was not distracted by other concerns. She didn't
have something else spinning in her head while she was with you. Or
if she did it wasn't strong enough to be an obvious intrusion. She
was clever, but not a thorough-going intellectual way like Janey;
or as a business-minded creative like Marcia.

'If we get
through this; and you are back in London…. Come to see me Jared.
Right now; it's a bit difficult.'

'Oh? Why?'

She looked at
me as if I just landed from Mars. 'You do know what been happening
lately don't you?'

'Yes. Of
course.' I said.

'Well then…'
Lorraine was looking expectant.

'What? Sorry?'
I took another drag, 'What are you on about?'

She seemed
exasperated then; 'Just come and see me when you are back in
London, Okay?'

I was so
perplexed by this that I just nodded and swallowed, feeling a
little foolish. She regarded me with a look of pity, as one who has
heard more than her fair share of confidences divulged to her in
one afternoon. But as it stood, I hadn't told her anything. I felt
it was important to agree. Some rigid sense of rightness; that
makes me want to keep my word even against the apparent instinct to
run a mile, made me take her hand and say very seriously: 'If I'm
back in London, and you're there; then I will come to see you.'

She was
surprised then; and looked a little bewildered by the ease with
which she had extracted this promise. But I wasn't in any mood for
a fight or anything disagreeable right now. And something……

It was like I'd
just remembered something. As if on walking I had grasped the tail
end of a dream. I blinked a few times. She kissed me again. And
this time I kissed her back. A promise; and a sweet anticipation.
Wine cannot be blamed for it. But there it is. She stood very
smoothly and elegantly then; the silk of her skirt brushed my face
as she slid back towards the double doors. I was left staring into
the warm night. And thinking nothing in particular, until ten
minutes later when Davey came looking for me.

 

We were
assigned the next door chalet: - that was me and the lads. Oliver
stomped off to see what the bathroom was like after declaring the
accommodation "Adequate". It was actually as well appointed in a
simpler style with lighter coloured wooden furniture and grassy
woven rugs. The effect was restful and less exotic than Lorraine's
place, which on the whole helped me to relax a little. The layout
was similar so finding the booze was no problem. I was just pouring
a whisky when Joe and Davey came back in. I passed them each a
glass.

'Do they have
ice in this hell hole?' asked Joe and when I shrugged, got up and
presumably went to look for some.

'What's up with
him?' Davey voiced my unspoken question.

I leaned back
and gazed upwards considering the answer carefully. I swirled the
golden liquid round the glass, then looked back at him. He was
watching me in a way that suggested he had more on his mind that
just Joe's slightly odd behaviour.

'Where is
Hanson?' I asked. If anything Davey stared at me harder as Joe put
a bowl down between us. Oliver rounded my chair and joined us in
altogether a better humour than earlier. He was wrapped in a towel
and rubbed his hair roughly to dry it. It stuck up in spikes like
baby hedgehog prickles. He patted them back into place with one
hand and took the fourth glass I had set for him.

'Glad to see
that someone has got their priorities right.' Oliver fixed us with
a bright-eyed expression of understated provocation. Joe stared
into the glass.

'What is Hanson
doing?' Joe looked up at me.

'Davey?' I
said, with a gesture of helplessness.

'There are two
spare rooms; and Hanson was already booked into one. The ladies
have taken the other.'

'Interesting.'
said Joe.

Davey turned to
him, 'About Hanson staying over there?'

'No. that we
didn't know about all of this beforehand…. we’re not a threat. Not
anymore.' Joe seemed to glaze over then.

'What about our
proposed sortie into the camp for nicking computer files.' Davey
said, 'don't we have reason to be worried? I mean really….
everything is favourable at the moment…but….'

'…wait until
the wind changes,' Joe cut in, 'this is all going to hell in
bucket!'

'How can you
possibly know that?' Davey asked, 'I think we can assume that there
is a least five people for whom our very existence will be a rather
annoying inconvenience. But I'm pretty certain that they haven't
crossed paths with any of us recently, that means…'

'Don't be
naïve.' Joe looked pained, 'this has the potential for fuck up
central! Come on! Didn't anyone notice?'

Oliver just
watched, and seemed to be waiting for something. Joe sighed
heavily.

'They knew we
were coming,' I said, 'and they know we are here now.'

Joe seemed
startled, 'why, oh why do you keep that to yourself?'

I shrugged, 'I
didn't want to spoil anyone's dinner, ' I thought they were all
being thick. Marcia had already said it. Perhaps they had
forgotten.

'Okay clever
clogs!' said Davey, gesturing that I speak.

'The plates and
maybe the glasses.'

'Oh?' Davey
hated being beaten to it be the others. Oliver grinned. He was
clearly way ahead, and had already incorporated this into his new
plan.

'Shit!' said
Joe.

'We've got
until ten tomorrow.' said Oliver suddenly, 'we need to be clear by
then.'

'And what about
Lorraine?' Davey asked. I felt my heart sink. I had not recalled
that I was supposed to be staying here with her and Hanson to do a
debrief. I was ready to do what I could to make Marcia change her
mind about the groups we'd be working in tomorrow. But I just
smiled pleasantly. 'She is too scared of the big bad boss, to be
any trouble. She might kick up a fuss however, if she is made to do
anything other than waft around looking fantastic.'

Davey rolled
his eyes at me, Joe laughed. Oliver looked thoughtful, 'No angel
that one.' He said. I suppose I must have scowled at Oliver. He
seemed grim then and settled into that painfully silent watchful
mode. Joe seemed a little less bothered and, after finishing off
the whisky dragged himself away to get some sleep.

Our little
late-nighter broke up shortly after that. I found they had given me
the single room, the twin one was occupied by Davey and Joe, Oliver
took the double.

I slid into the
sheets and waited for sleep to come in the semi dark bedroom.

 

I think it must
have been about four in the morning; the dead of the night. I was
woken from a confused dream by the sound of scuffling. I lay there
thinking of all the reasons why I should go and investigate; but
for some reason my body was describing to me a reluctance that I
could not explain. This was new. I had never hesitated before… I
chided myself for being lazy and unfocused, and slid out of the low
bunk.

Everything was
quiet. The main room illuminated by the faintest hint of moonlight.
It was easing towards the horizon, and the dead zone of night was
embracing the landscape. I peeked through a window carefully, so as
not to disturb the shutters. It was still. Not a breath of wind.
High up a few high clouds drifted ridged with the pearly shot
taffeta of a low orb. I turned away from the window and blinked a
few times until my eyes adjusted. Whatever it was; if there had
been anything was now gone. I felt my way to the small settee and
sat down. I slipped the small case from the pocket of the slacks.
Lighter and the faint pop of the flame and I lit the small black
stick. I needed to think. The lack of privacy in the trip meant I
didn't have time to really think. A little objectivity goes a long
way. I created a canopy of fragrant gloom. It was familiar and
comforting. Just like the scent of roses. I thought of Janey. She
would be sleeping, her hair streaming across her shoulders like
liquid silk; and long lashes fluttering as she dreamed into the
silence of this night. I thought of Adam then: could we be here as
his rescuer, or was Amber right? That he and James were back on the
other side of the anomaly? Had Adam tried to warn me? What did he
know while he had consciously been inside the avatar that made him
quite dangerous? This mysterious double of Lorraine's; had it been
responsible for the killing of the copy? Adam's face swum
uncomfortably before my eyes then; and I knew with certainty that I
must go with them in the morning…. I might have been relieved of
the Captain's role, but this point was the one when I came into my
own. When it was just about to get really difficult; and unlike my
usual doubt and depression; when faced with the possibility of
total dreadfulness, I actually relaxed and was more at peace.
Oliver thinks that only a lunatic would enjoy danger like that.
Perhaps he doesn't actually believe me. I keep wondering if one of
the people he knew in his secret past was just as way off level,
and that was what got them killed….

'Who's there?'
someone hissed.

I froze;
cigarette still poised between the fingers of my right hand. If
they could not work it out from the tobacco, they were either a
stranger or a friend in super thick mode.

A torch bounced
into my eyes with a sharp spike of illumination. I tipped my head
forward and half closed my eyes.

'Jared?' the
speaker sounded surprized. The voice was female. But had a quality
to it that was strangely detached….as if time and distance had worn
it away. The light clicked off. The woman slowly lowered herself
into the opposite bench, laying a hand on one of the cushions to
her left; the hand carrying the torch. In the sepia toned room she
was a person shaped smudge punctuating the night time gloom.

'Jared?' she
asked again, and when I made no move she leaned forwards a
little.

We watched each
other; this strange woman and I. We sat there on the edge of
understanding. I let my eyes carry on adjusting as she watched
me.

'You are still
here.' She said at last.

I was just
about to ask her what she meant, when a door opened, starkly
illuminating the scene. Oliver came forward and quickly relieved
her of the knife that I hadn't seen her holding in her right
hand.

'Juliet….' I
said faintly. Oliver sat down by me, as if waiting for
instructions.

In front of me
I saw a woman, who to all the faculties of observation available to
me was at least sixty-five years old; and yet I knew that this to
be the same girl who had joined our college circle, and who had
wanted to be a trainer at a wild animal sanctuary.

'Yes…. as you
see. But lately I suspect that there is something I haven't been
told.' She reached forward and laid the torch on the edge of the
table.

'Oh no….' I
whispered, 'Oh no…. please; not that.'

Oliver is
staring at me waiting for the realisation to sink through the
layers. Juliet sniffs in an irritated way, 'the least you can do is
offer me a cup of tea.' She said.

'Yes…. yes of
course,' I said, without taking my eyes off her.

Oliver stood
and strode into the kitchen without a backwards glance.

'Juliet…' I
said again somewhat idiotically.

'That's my
name!' she said in a somewhat amused way, 'Are you simple or
something?'

'No.'

'Then stop
staring, and tell me what you and your friends are doing here.'

'I…. I'm….'
every thought in my head evaporated, I simply couldn't decide if
she was the reality and I was the dream, or the other way
round.

'You really are
quite a strange boy.' She said, ' what if I told you that I know
what Mr Charles is up to… and that I can help you stop him?'

'Err that would
be most helpful.' I said, still not entirely sure how to react to
this older version of one of my college friends.

'If you are
wondering if I am a copy. The answer is simple…. Of course I am you
stupid boy. Do you think that someone could survive what they have
done to me without really understanding the intricacies of the
situation?'

'Err….'

'Do you have
any Idea what has happened boy?'

'Well….'

'You really are
the silliest young man I've met today!'

'I'm what?'

'Actually,' she
said to herself, 'You're the only young man I've met today.'

I stubbed out
the remains of the Russian, and took a deep breath. 'Are you in
fact the person who was on the recording?' I asked.

'Yes of course.
What a stupid question!'

'Yes… well,
okay. Oh!' I looked up as Oliver came towards us with a tray and
three cups.

'Now then,' she
said, after supping from the cup and grimacing, 'to business. I can
help you find Charlie boy. But you need to deal with him
yourself.'

'But what can I
do?' I asked her.

'You?' she
seemed startled, then turning to Oliver, 'what is wrong with him?
Hasn't he found the power yet?'

To do credit to
Oliver's super cool way of accepting the situation, he didn't react
at all. He just looked thoughtful and tapped his fingers on his tea
cup for moment. 'I think he needs to go forward in time a little
way first.' he said.

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