Intentionality Read online

Page 5


  The tale being told was a warning, a memory repeated in a gentle tone with a background accompaniment of bells along with the notes produced by what I now know to be a sitar. The tale was so deeply moving. A girl was tempted to stray away from her home by the promise of fortune and fame in the big city. She felt that she was invincible, independent and valuable enough by herself to make the move alone. She left behind her family and therefore the only support system she had. The city was a cold impersonal place, from the very first moment her foot stepped off the train, she knew that she had made a mistake but could not gather the strength to admit her lack of judgement to her family. She felt that the shame of admitting defeat so soon would lay a burden of ridicule on her family. I could watch her wandering the streets, almost invisible to the town’s folk. She lived the lie for a few miserable weeks and eventually found herself living on the streets, alone, ill and exceptionally scared. One terrible frozen night she curled up and never woke up. At the end of that heart-breaking tale the family sing of their utter devastation in losing their daughter twice. That it would have only taken one message from her, to get the help that they were waiting to give. The message was clear, we are only as strong as our team helps us to be. I am left wondering, why didn’t her family strive to help her once they realised she was gone? Perhaps she didn’t leave a letter.

  Unfortunately my team will be leaving me, not as it was in the story. Even worse still, that tragic girl made the decision to become alone, even if it was misguided. If I can’t figure out how to improve my mental strength scores, I shall not even have the choice. I shall be the one sleeping in a cold unwelcoming place without the support of my sister.

  My only hope in this situation, are my dear friends Dawn and Grace, they too have no signs of improved skills. This is because of an entirely different and frightening situation. They have both been struck quite mysteriously by an illness since the night that Mrs Alder gave us our three-week deadline. Their illness hasn’t spread to the other Seeders but seems to have something to do with the meal that we ate during the evening. They were both perfectly well before. But as soon as we finished the meal they both became seriously ill with high temperatures and erratic speech. They are both in the medical bay. Their temperatures are now stabilised but both girls continue to spout unintelligible words and commands uncontrollably. We have decided to visit one at a time as they appear to be eased by our presence but over sensitive to too much fuss! The medics assisting their recovery have no clue as to what the virus may be, but have suggested that because the onset was rapid the cause may well have been something they both ingested at that meal, just after our morning meeting with Mrs Alder, incidentally it was also the day that The Captain was spotted fiddling with our external pads but that snippet of information seems to have been eradicated from the memory of any of the Acers in charge. Because we weren’t supposed to know about him and because saying anything would almost certainly get Skye into all sorts of bother, we as a group have decided to silence the nagging questions also. Of course with no one else to blame the investigation into the virus has led to the Mono chefs and galley being searched for contaminants. Nothing was discovered, the Grand Acer decided to put the resources in to curing the two girls rather than finding the problem, as no one else seemed to be inflicted.

  “How did you score on the brain scan Mae?” communicated Lily.

  She is in the medical bay. It’s her turn this afternoon.

  “On a score of one to ten, one being me destined to stay in The Nest until I am old and grey, ten being the golden ticket to Intentionality. I scored a three Lily, I don’t think my vivid imagination put to a sound track counts as mental stability, let alone gives off any measurable power into those head transmitters,” I responded

  Every week now we’re fastened into a helmet contraption for ten minutes. During this time, we are exposed to relevant visual and verbal stimulants that correspond with our Evo-gene skills. Because my Evo-gene is supposed to fire into action with the sound of different languages, I am bombarded for the whole time by people talking, shouting and laughing. Great groups of words fill my head and faces appear in front of me on a screen. Of course to my brain this is nothing new. I live with the constant hum and buzz. This is the key to my low power scores. It’s not a mystery to me. My brain switches off to intense noise. It has been trained to react this way through years of rigorous experience.

  “Mae, how can that be? You are at least experiencing some new developments, and you have the benefit of knowing the test content, because I showed you when I was tested,” Lily despaired

  Just two weeks to go now. No amount of guidance or extra sessions with Mrs Alder is likely to add more than a couple of points to my power score, so I will need to do it myself. I have arranged to meet Lily in the botanical gardens for some intensive language research, in about an hour. In order to be prepared for this, I shall get back to the unit for a rest and on my way I must remember to collect the flask of hot chocolate for us to share.

  The chocolate is particularly creamy today. I think that they have been reassessing the recipes lately because at least once a day I get the distinct feeling that the consistency of what I am eating or drinking is changed somehow. It helps me to relax and soon I find myself lying on my bed with drooping eyelids. Sleep is actually easy to find in the middle of the day.

  “Mae, Mae, MAE. Are you in there?”

  I am now awake, I have been dreaming about my latest experience, torn from my visit to that girl on the street. I tried to convince her to go home. I offered to go with her to plead for her forgiveness. The really unbelievable element to the dream is that I wasn’t speaking English. I quite clearly understood and could converse in the mother tongue of the girl! I have never been able to do anything like that before in any of my dreams. Not that I would expect to speak to the tusked creature and my dream about the journey to Intentionality had only my friends included. So on reflection perhaps I have always been able to speak in that language, I have only just had reason to utilise the skill.

  As I lie here in absolute amazement, I can actually remember those words I spoke and indeed the complete conversation! I feel like dancing and shouting. This is it my world has finally begun revolving like the other Seeders. I hope the pace gathers faster though, I have a week of maturity to catch up on.

  “Mae, Mae, MAE. Are you there?”

  Now I remember. I was woken by something and that something is a rather over excited Summer.

  “I am in Summer, just dozing that’s all, give me a second to let you in.”

  Should I tell Summer my good news I wonder? I really need to tell someone who will be completely ecstatic and focussed on me right now, and I don’t think Summer is that candidate. I can tell by the twinkle of her tones that she has great plans to bestow upon me. I am certain they do not involve listening to my mundane Evo news. So I shall keep my secret to myself, like a hoard of gems ready to show an admirer rather than a passer-by.

  As the door begins to slide a very excited Summer dances into the room.

  “Mae they have given us permission. I really didn’t think my persuasion tactic of ‘it’s not fair we’ve worked so hard’ was getting anywhere. I was receiving a lot of opposition from the Grand Acer, Mrs Alder of all people managed to win him over. We just need to relocate to the recreation sector and promise that we shall not allow the preparations to diminish our Evo-gene development. We must promise no late nights and definitely no absence from lessons. The Graduation Ball can be set to Friday next week, that’s the 6th of October. We shall then have one last day of rest together before The Harvest on the 8th. Our theme is to stay the same, Illusion. I need to ask you a huge favour. I don’t have anyone else to ask. As I am not at all sure whether Dawn or Grace can even understand me at this moment and have no way of predicting if they will be conversant by next week. We will need to push ahead without including them in our preparation plans. I will need to rely on you a little more than usual. I would appreci
ate you and Lily taking over responsibility for the preparation of the room. I have sketched a representation of how the sector should appear when finished, just to give you an idea.

  “I have already ordered the mirrors and a spinning mirror ball, which needs to be suspended from the ceiling. The light from the candles on the tables will not be enough to make it sparkle so I need you to bring along some of the huge underwater lanterns used by the Monos when they are repairing The Nest. I have also ordered lots of beautiful white fabric which has been hand embroidered with miniature mirrors. This is for draping around the walls and tables in an effort to hide the hard walls. The other girls will organise the music, I will continue to plan the menu and we were all preparing our own costumes in secret anyway.”

  “As usual Summer, you have been able to morph a leisure pursuit into a military operation. Congratulations I shall be passing on the instructions to my better half. The room shall be ready for next week and you Summer shall go to the ball!”

  Well that has just doubled my gleeful mood!

  “Now do you want me to voice mail the notes to you on your communicator band? I am happy to do that,” asked Summer.

  “No, I think my mission is quite straight forward. The first thing I shall do though is locate those big lanterns. There would be little use in the mirror ball without them.”

  Summer thanked me, turned on her toes and disappeared along the hall as fast as a fish on the current and probably as quiet.

  I communicated with Lily in pictures, much better than talking, she will be able to see exactly what a huge undertaking it will be. I then set off along the white corridors to meet her, all the time trying to keep my little surprise from bubbling out of its pot and into the communication area of my brain, where it will be jettisoned to my sister, without the fun build-up of intrigue that I had envisioned.

  Eleven

  Five,

  FIVE,

  FIVE!

  I realise anything short of the eight achieved by my sister would have been slightly annoying, especially when her language skills do not encompass the ability to form visual movies in her head, using a foreign tongue set to a backdrop of music! She is however able to interpret almost double the amount of languages I can and she doesn’t need to hear the words to do that, she can interpret the text. Even so, all things considered… FIVE!

  We had another round of brain scans. It was all quite unexpected. Ridiculously, I felt I would do better as my brain wouldn’t have time to shut down. I even volunteered to go first. I really did go in with the confidence of a champion. After all, I can now speak to Lily in a foreign language and not just one, almost ten. But as soon as the text and pictures began on the screen and the words were channelled through my earphones, I was taken over by the signs of shut down. My brain began thinking elsewhere as a tried and tested distraction technique.

  As a result I am feeling the need to both conceal and redeem myself. This has brought me to the air hole on Deck Zero. I need to find and borrow the lanterns and plan to spend as much time doing this as is possible, without getting caught!

  I have always been drawn to this area for its excitement, mystery, anonymity and most of all for the feeling of freedom it radiates.

  There is a viewing gallery above, a watchtower in effect. It has one-way glass so that the passage in and out of the hole can be monitored. I am told this is a necessity to keep the Seeders safe. It wouldn’t be to stop us escaping because we aren’t destined to be here for eternity. I suppose in that respect it may be to monitor the whereabouts of the Monos, who are expecting to live out their life in modern servitude. Seeders are also allowed to use the viewing gallery, however it is seldom used as the view is limited. It is however a lovely cave-like room, ideal to remove yourself from the timetable for a short while.

  I like to be down by ‘the water’s edge’, it is not I am sure as nice as paddling by the seashore, that first experience will be entirely magical. There is something mesmerising about the sound of the icy cold seawater lapping at the steel of the air hole. Occasionally you can taste the spray of an errant wave as it breaks too harshly against the steps. I am not allowed to place my feet over the side. Apparently this activates a warning signal. It must have been deactivated the time my sister went in, or possibly it did sound and the Mono that helped, turned it off when he saw her struggling. That would mean he has some command of security codes, so not just any Mono Prince Charming then!

  Some Monos are in responsible jobs. They are trusted and respected to associate with the Acers living in The Nest. I have heard that they are employed as secretaries, managers and commanders. This enables the Acers in those positions living in Intentionality the freedom to stay on the surface without the need to be stationed here on rotation. No Monos are allowed to associate with the Seeders for any other reason than to be courteous.

  I now face a problem. I didn’t expect the lanterns to be locked in a see through cupboard. I assume they are connected somehow to the power supply. They are standing to attention in a row, with their bulb blinking intermittently. Very organised and rather comical, as the light flashes on and off at a different time to the one next door, it looks like they are deep in conversation. I am both impressed and annoyed. Now I shall need to contact an Acer to ask permission, which means I can’t hide here avoiding social interaction any longer. To make it worse, I can feel the drop of temperature, which arrives just before the surface tranquillity of the air hole is broken. Soon there will be splashing and after that questions.

  “Hi, don’t look up. I’m not supposed to be talking to you,” communicated a voice which was most definitely not my sister,

  “I think we have met before, did you recover quickly from your accident here? I wanted to find out but that would have got us both in trouble.”

  Now hang on a moment, my ears detected only the sound of water running on to metal, footsteps and breathing. So how is it that my brain has detected a voice inside this deck?

  Alternatively I could be persuaded into considering the possibility that I am going completely off the rails. I am, it seems, making up male voices that seem to know my sister! My hearing has been rendered completely inoperable by the beating of my petrified heart. I can hear nothing else and am now incapable of breathing in any sensible manner. To make things even more implausible, I seem to have conjured up a picture of the man in my mind’s eye. If I weren’t in such a state I may take a minute to admire my handy work!

  Should I look around? Should I run? Should I converse with my mind’s fabricated man? If I tell the imagined man to leave and never return would he be able to do that or would that need the fabrication to have freedom of thought?

  “Hi… It’s me again… I can hear you… I am not fabricated or imagined and I certainly do have freedom of thought, two arms, ten toes, that sort of thing,” communicated the man again.

  Have I been mumbling out loud? How embarrassing! Now I have lost all of my faculties. I shall just move to the exit without looking and hope that the imagined, argumentative soul stays where he is. That sounds like a plan.

  “No wait, I only wanted to say Hi. Guess I have actually done that now, but please stay. I want to know why I couldn’t hear you last time. Your mind is so strong that I actually heard you from under the surface. That’s why I came up. In around five minutes, there won’t be anyone watching from the viewing tower because it’s supposed to be me. You could come back and I’ll help you get permission for those lanterns that you wanted,” he suggested

  “If you can really hear me, say this next sentence out loud,” I challenged. “Say, ‘Can I help you, Ma’am?’”

  “Can I help you Ma’am?”

  There it was. My sentence, it permeated through the void of the deck, it travelled like golden rays of sunlight through water, twirling and echoing towards my brain, then it bridged the gap from make believe to reality and blew me straight to the floor.

  I heard steps now moving towards me as I struggled, unsuccessfull
y, to get back on my feet.

  “I really must limit my anonymous rescues to one a year. They are no good for my ego. So this time you are going to communicate to me what your name is because there is no excuse. There is not another single soul in this Nest that can do what you and I can. Believe me I have tried to find another,” he revealed.

  Yep he’s doing it. He has just voiced an opinion without opening his lips. He is also very close! I have never held hands with a boy before! I think that he may be pretending to check for injuries but all the same I have never been this close to a male in my entire life. If my heart wasn’t already on full speed it would certainly be accelerating. I really don’t think I am likely to have injured my hand more than my head in the order of medical priorities.

  I may as well travel further willingly into this mess and begin communicating with him. After all he is just wishing to help and he did such a good job keeping my sister alive. I am certainly not going to lie. He thinks that I am Lily and as soon as he discovers otherwise I may get my hand back.

  “My name is Mae, and I am not the only person capable of this form of communication. You have previously experienced the pleasure of rescuing my twin Lily. So now you have a full set of rescues to your name!” I communicated.

  Keep it light-hearted Mae, don’t give too much away. You only wanted a lantern or two. Not to stay down in The Nest as punishment for being contaminated by the thoughts of a Mono so close to Ascension. His hand immediately dropped mine so hard that it hit the cold hard floor making my pretend injury suddenly real.