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Authors: Nicola Rhodes

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fantasy - Contemporary

Anything but Ordinary (7 page)

BOOK: Anything but Ordinary
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Tamar hesitated. ‘I can handle this on my own,’ she said. ‘They can’t hurt me, but you would be in a lot of danger.’

This remark received blank stares all round. Even from Slick, who she had been certain would grab at the straw of relative safety. 

‘So what else is new,’ said Ray eventually.

‘I’m not afraid,’ said Melissa. And looked as if she meant it.

‘We
want
to go,’ said Slick. ‘It’s what we do.’

‘Hmm,’ Tamar appraised them uncertainly. ‘Are you sure you …’

‘We know what you think of us,’ said Melissa suddenly. ‘You haven’t exactly tried to hide it. But we
can
handle ourselves, and we’re wasting time here. Tell us what you need us to do.’

‘All right,’ said Tamar. ‘Ray, where was the last incident recorded?’

‘Venezuela,’

‘Okay, when was that?’

‘Yesterday at around two …’

‘Right, Crettins move fast. They’ll be at least two hundred miles away by now. Does that fit in with your data?’

Ray looked surprised. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘exactly.’

‘Good, so we all know where we’re going. How does One get out of here?’

Tamar did not need all this really; she could have sensed the Crettins easily once she was out of the complex. But she felt that these people were uneasy without a plan they could follow and data they could rely on. Not like Denny, Stiles, and the others, who acted on instinct and improvised most of the time. Tamar preferred acting on instinct. Nine times out of ten it worked for her. There were some things you could not plan for and she dealt with most of them on a regular basis. 

 It was no wonder, she thought, that her batting average against supernatural forces was better than theirs. They thought about things too much. Try to out-think a werewolf for example and see where it got you. Dead is where it got you. Because, while you were trying to decide what it might do next, the werewolf, acting on instinct, had already torn your throat out. 

She was thinking a lot about wolves recently, she realised. She docketed the thought and decided to come back to it later. Her instincts told her there was probably a reason for this and she never ignored her instincts for long. 

She surveyed the team before her, eager to be off. Right now, her instincts were telling her that at least one of them was going to die. 

* * *

‘She sent you to
me
?’ Denny was bewildered. He read the note again.  No doubt about it, it was her writing and the shorthand on the back was pretty conclusive. Only Tamar could have written it. 

‘You’d better come in then,’ said Denny shortly. ‘And we’ll see if we can’t sort this out.  You have no idea who I am, do you?’ he added astutely.

‘No,’ said Dawber baffled. ‘We’ve never met.’

‘We have you know,’ said Denny. ‘Cindy!’ he bawled.

Cindy appeared suddenly behind him causing Dawber to step backwards suddenly in shock.

‘What?’ she snapped. Then she saw Dawber. Her eyes narrowed sharply. ‘What’s
he
doing here?’

‘Tamar sent him,’ said Denny. He handed her the note.

‘He doesn’t remember us,’ he added when she had read it and handed it back to him with a mystified look.  She drew her eyebrows together in an effort to understand. ‘What?’ she said eventually.

‘Tamar says that his memory has been tampered with,’ explained Denny. ‘Probably magically. Can you help him?’

‘He’s lost his memory?’ said Cindy.

‘More like, had it taken from him,’ said Denny.

‘And Tamar sent him
here
? Why didn’t she just fix him herself?’

‘I think she’s in trouble,’ said Denny. ‘We’ll know more when –
if
we can get Agent Dum Dum here to remember.’ 

Cindy just stared at him blankly.

‘Cindy!’ snapped Denny. ‘This is no time for the dumb blonde routine, can you help him or not?’

Cindy shook herself. ‘Okay,
okay,’ she said testily. ‘There’s no need to get all bent out of shape, I was just thinking … It depends on how it was done but probably he hasn’t actually
lost
his memories, just had them blocked off.’

‘Which means?’

‘Which means I probably
can
get them back for him, but it won’t be pleasant for him.’ she looked at Dawber. ‘Give me your hands,’ she ordered.

In a daze, Dawber did so.

‘Thanks Cindy,’ said Denny quietly.

She inclined her head coldly.  After a few minutes intense concentration she released his hands and announced. ‘There’s at least three months worth in total of missing memory, although it’s not consecutive. It’s from all over the place, a bit here, a bit there. It adds up.’

‘Three
months
!’ exclaimed Denny. ‘How long have they been doing this to him?’

‘Several years I would say,’ said Cindy sombrely. ‘Pretty bad.’ she looked at Denny. ‘And Tamar’s with these people?’

‘I bloody hope not,’ said Denny.

‘She is,’ volunteered Dawber. 

‘Shut up “Memento”,’ snapped Denny. ‘What do you know about anything? You probably don’t even remember your name.’

‘It’s Dawber,’ said Dawber mildly.

‘Are you sure about that?’

‘It probably is,’ said Cindy. ‘I mean, he’s had his name his whole life hasn’t he? They’ve only been messing with him for the last few years or so.’

‘So, who are
they
?’

‘That’s what I’m hoping he can tell us, when I’ve finished with him.’ said Cindy. ‘They wouldn’t have bothered to do this if he hadn’t found out what they didn’t want him to know.

‘I wouldn’t worry about Tamar,’ she added gently. ‘If anyone can take care of herself …’

‘I’d just feel better if I was there,’ muttered Denny.

Cindy turned to Dawber. ‘I can restore your memory,’ she said. ‘But three months of disjointed memories returning all at once will be an overwhelming experience. You won’t like it I’m warning you.’

‘Three months doesn’t sound like all that much,’ said Dawber uncertainly. 

‘You’ll see,’ said Cindy.  ‘It’s more than you think. Ready?’

‘No,’ said Dawber nervously.

‘Too bad,’ said Denny. ‘Cindy, get on with it.’

Cindy ignored the peremptory tone. The truth was that she tended to go gooey inside when Denny bossed her around. But she would be damned if she was going to let him see it.

She moved gently toward Dawber. ‘Don’t be afraid,’ she whispered softly, caressingly almost seductively. Dawber was hypnotised, and Denny could quite see why. Cindy certainly had a way with her when she wanted to. 

She took his face in her hands and closed her eyes. ‘
Dea Hecaté audite meus placitum, permoveo obex solvo is mens
.’ she muttered in a voice not her own. ‘
Teneoobex quod distraho is in nusquam, restituo mens, refero monumentum
.’
 

Her eyes snapped open and were blank without irises. Denny had seen this before, but it was still disconcerting.


Dea Hecaté audite meus placitum, permoveo obex solvo is mens
.’ she repeated in commanding tones. ‘
Teneoobex quod distraho is in nusquam, restituo mens, refero monumentum
.’
 

Denny had to admit it; Cindy was impressive when she did this. 


Solvomens, solvo.Redigo is ita
.’ at these last words, the meaning of which Denny could only guess at, a strange light descended on Cindy and enveloped her. Dawber screamed.

‘I told him, he wouldn’t like it,’ said Cindy, whose voice and eyes had now returned to normal. 

Denny stared in shock at the prostrate figure of Dawber lying whimpering on the floor. ‘Will he be all right?’

‘Give him a kick,’ said Cindy heartlessly. ‘He’s over-egging it a bit if you ask me, it can’t be
that
bad.’

‘Depends on what it is he’s remembering,’ said Denny grimly.

They stared at each other for a second or two, contemplating this and imagining all sorts of horrors that might have been suddenly revealed to the mind of the poor man now twitching feebly on the floor. 

Denny recovered first. ‘That was some pretty impressive gobbledygook.’ he said hastily, changing the subject. ‘I sometimes forget what a first-class witch you really are.’ He unthinkingly laid a hand on her shoulder as he spoke.

She shook it off irritably. ‘
Don’t
,’ she said, with what Denny thought was disproportionate vehemence

‘Don’t what?’ said Denny taken aback.

‘I can’t have
you
, but I don’t need your pity!’ she yelled, her eyes blazing suddenly, and then she ran away.

Dawber, who had recovered enough to be watching this scene with curiosity from his prone position on the floor, temporarily forgot his own problems and asked in some surprise. ‘What was all that about?’

Denny turned to Dawber with a carefully neutral expression. ‘I have no idea,’ he lied.

* * *

Tamar surveyed her troops with a critical eye. ‘The neoprene catsuits and the radio mike headsets?’ she asked. ‘Are they absolutely necessary?’

‘We always wear them,’ said Melissa.

‘Even if we do look like complete dicks,’ muttered Ray under his breath.

‘And small children don’t follow you to find out where the circus is going to be?’ asked Tamar.

‘Sometimes,’ again this was Ray speaking
sotto voce
so that only Tamar’s sensitive ears caught the words. She smiled. 

I thought the idea was to be
covert
?’ she pointed out. ‘You lot might as well be wearing signs around your necks saying “secret government special ops team”.

‘You look like the X men,’ she added cruelly, ‘only dorkier.’

Ray stifled a laugh.  ‘That’s what
I’ve
been saying,’ he said.  ‘Well. Actually I said we look like the Fantastic Four.’

Tamar tried to imagine Jack Stiles wearing a neoprene catsuit and suddenly burst out laughing. 

‘The outfits go,’ she said firmly and snapped her fingers and putting them back into their normal clothes.  ‘I mean, look at this,’ she snapped them again, and she was wearing the catsuit. ‘What does this look like, really?’

They stared at her as one man. The catsuit fitted her like a second skin.

‘Wow!’ said Slick.

‘It looks … pretty amazing really,’ said Ray. ‘On you, anyway.’

Tamar frowned. ‘Do I look inconspicuous though?’

‘No,’ said Slick trying unsuccessfully to drag his eyes away from her legs. ‘But, then again, you never do.’

‘Okay,’ snapped Tamar dryly. She was annoyed that her point had not been made.  ‘Put your eyes back in Casanova.’ She dressed herself in her regular combats and T-shirt. ‘Let’s go.’

‘Er, what about the headsets?’ said Melissa. ‘How will we keep in contact?’

‘We won’t need to,’ said Tamar wearily. ‘We’ll all be together.’

‘No, she’s got a point,’ said Ray. ‘What if we get separated?’


I’ll
find anyone who’s daft enough to get lost,’ said Tamar. ‘And maybe make them wish I hadn’t too. Are we going or what?’

She looked them over. They were nervous, edgy. This was no good. If they got this nervous about a few Crettins, how would they react when the universe pulled out the big guns?

‘Neoprene catsuits!’ she muttered. ‘What we really need are thermal regulators,’ But she knew that she would just have to do the best she could to protect them by elevating her own body temperature enough to attract any Crettins  in the vicinity to herself. She did not bother to mention this though. They were anxious enough, and she was afraid that if she brought this up there would be questions, and she would be compelled to admit that it might not work.

~ Chapter Five ~

O
nce they were out of the complex, Tamar knew that she was now free to teleport anywhere in the world in the blink of an eye.  She also knew that she had been tagged, and they
would
find her again, should she try to escape.  Of course, she had a way round this; but for now, it would not do to let them know this.  Perhaps they already knew, perhaps The Director was banking on her curiosity or his threat of blackmail to keep her in line and the tagging was just a way of keeping score. 

She knew now, that this was how she had been brought to the complex. The Agents who had visited her house had done it. They had tagged her with a mystical isotope – she had never even known about it – and when the time was right, they had brought her in telekinetically. She now remembered the room. They called it the teleportation room (Ray called it the departure lounge) although Tamar knew that this was not strictly accurate. Teleportation was not used, only something (and she was not sure what, but it felt familiar) that looked and acted like it. They had used this room again today to transport the team outside; it was the only way in or out of the complex.  

They had then selectively wiped her memory in the same way that they had done to Agent Dawber and left her in the glass plated room to observe her reactions. 

As angry as this had made her at the time, she now knew several things:

 

1. That the memory device had not had a permanent effect on her. Her mind was not the same as a human mind. It had taken time, but eventually all the memories they had blocked had found a way back into her consciousness. 

 

2. That the Director and his cronies were not aware that this was the case (and she had no intention of letting them know it either)

 

3. That if her own memory could be re-routed by magic back into her conscious mind, then Agent Dawber’s could be also.  Only in his case, an outside source of magic would have to be employed. Tamar had no doubt that Denny would have Cindy do it. 

 

4. That there was no possible chance of escaping directly from the complex. Once inside, her magic was useless. It was a bit like being back in the bottle. Only when she was released, could she access her powers. 

 

5. That the isotope, like chemical isotopes, dispersed after 26 hours and had to be reapplied.  Now that she was outside of the complex, all she would have to do would be to keep them off her trail for that length of time, after that, they would no longer be able to get a fix on her.  She knew that she was more than capable of doing this, and suspected that they knew it too. She could only conclude, therefore, that since she had been allowed out of the complex, they were unaware that she knew about the isotope. 

BOOK: Anything but Ordinary
3.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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