Wild Thing (18 page)

At the odd look on his face, an awful thought struck her.  'Have
you
been talking to Godsson, Keepie?'

Suddenly he looked
guilty!

'Oh, no!  And you told him about Robo, didn't you?'  She wasn't sure
why
that was such a bad idea, she just knew it
was
.  At her look, he got even guiltier.  'Oh-!  No, you told him about
Her,
too, didn't you!'

He actually
winced
– then shook himself.  'It doesn't matter, Sara, provided
you
don't get drawn into his nonsense.  The man’s fantasies get worse by the month.’

She felt her lips pressing together, and for some reason she wanted to hit him.  'What fantasies?'

'You wouldn’t understand.'

'Stop treating me like a baby!  I would
too
understand!'

He sighed.  'I'm not treating you like a child.  I scarcely understand it myself.'

So he
did
understand!
  She glared at him.

'Oh, just some gobbledegook.'

She kept glaring.

'Oh, some story about traveling to the Imaginal realm with his physical body, and about how Melisande d’Artelle's death in that place created a magical pattern which then followed him back. There: satisfied?  Complete fantasy, of course.'

'If it's just make-believe, why not let him go free?'

He made a strangled noise.  'Do you have
any
idea how much harm a mentally unstable mage can do?'

'Godsson wouldn't hurt anyone!'

For a moment, she thought he was choking.  Then he looked really angry.  'I assure you, you're utterly wrong.  Godsson
has
… “harmed” people, Sara.  I have seen it with my own eyes.'

He seemed to think for a moment.  Then shook his head.  'No.  No, you're not to see him anymore.  I forbid it.'

'Fine,' she snapped, but inside she was thinking
You can't stop me from seeing my friend.
  She pushed her plate away.  It had gone cold, anyway.

Neither of them spoke as he picked up her tray and stood.  She didn't look at him.

'You're still Grounded, Sara,' he said, from the doorway.

'I know,' she said, still not looking at him.

For several seconds he must've just stood there, watching her.  'Order your meals from the cafeteria using your netpad.  A dombot will bring it.'

'But Nerida-'

'Nerida has her own work to do, and doesn't have time to wait on you hand and foot.'

'She doesn't-'

But by the time she'd turned back round, he'd already left and the door was shutting.

Why was he so
mean
?

She didn't see
anyone
for a whole day, after that, and thought she'd go mad.  When her uncle opened the door, she jumped up before she remembered she was still cross with him.  Except she wasn't; not really.

He didn't look all that happy to see
her,
though.

'Come along, Sara.  We have… a
visitor.'

He said “visitor” like you'd say “poo on your shoe.”  'Come where?'

'Just to my office.  Professor Sanders, and our visitor, Professor Roger Ahronian of MITM' – and again, he looked like the words tasted bad in his mouth – 'are waiting to discuss my concerns over recent events.  For some reason, the Director has decided he wants you present.  But I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself.'

He noted her lips thin. 
Of course that wouldn't stop her.  '
They are unlikely to be helpful to Godsson should you share them.'

'Why not?  What's so special about Professor, Ar…?'

'Professor Ahronian considers himself the world expert on the Incorporeal.  And he is quite certain he has nothing to learn from Godsson.'

So, she had to come and sit with her uncle while someone he hated was rude about Godsson?  She considered staying where she was. 'I'm not allowed out of my room.'

'You are for this.'

'Does that mean my Grounding is over?'

'No!  Now stop being difficult and come along.  We mustn't keep our
distinguished visitor
waiting.'

'Can I bring my bow and arrows?'

For a moment she thought he was going to snap at her, but suddenly he smiled.  Then chuckled, and his shoulders relaxed.  'I'm tempted to say yes, but you had better not.  Come along.'

Maybe it wouldn't be too bad.

The expert certainly
looked
very expert: he was tall, with very black hair and a neat black beard and sharp black eyebrows, and wore a nice suit.  He looked like he might be an actor, or somebody important.

'Ah, and this is the young lady in question, is it?'

She wasn’t sure if that was a smile or a sneer, but the way her uncle and the Director winced when he said “young lady” helped her remember she hadn't been bad.

She wasn't sure she was going to like him.

Her uncle went and sat behind his desk in his usual spot.  The foreign-looking professor sat opposite him. He was leaning back in the heavy visitor chair, one very shiny black shoe bouncing up and down across his knee, and looking like
he
was the one in charge.

She decided she
didn't
like him.

Professor Sanders was sitting in another chair, at the side of the desk, like he was going to be an umpire or something.  At a nod from her Uncle, she saw they'd put another chair to the left of the Director's, at an angle to it.  She went and sat down.

They talked about “papers” for a bit and how her uncle hadn't written on any for a while, or something like that, and then the visitor – who had quite a long, and slightly bent-down nose – leaned forward.  'Alexander – I may call you Alexander, may I?'

She expected her uncle to say “No,” but he just tilted his head slightly.

'I've read your report, viewed the recent footage, and the Director has even kindly taken me down to “Godsson's” cell for a personal inspection.  Impressive Wards, I must say.  Although my opinion has not shifted in the intervening years-'

She saw her uncle's lips press together.

'- and I still think the poor fellow could be treated a little less like a dangerous criminal and more like an actual patient.'

She sat up straighter at that.  Maybe he wasn't so bad after all?  At the look her uncle was giving her, though, instead of saying what a good idea that was, she just nodded her head a lot.

'Your idea clearly meets with my nine-year-old ward's approval, which you must no doubt find reassuring – but he
is
clinically insane, Roger.  I may call you Roger, may I?'

Huh?  She tilted her head, watching the two men.  They both had the same kind of smile on their faces, she saw.  Like they wanted to punch each other. 
What was going on?
  Maybe this
would
get interesting, after all.

'Nor may we magically neuter him without his legal consent – even if that would work, for someone of his power.

'And perhaps I should also remind you that those Wards, and our precautions, are at the explicit recommendation of the Emperor of China.  He warned us that
something
had made a link to Godsson, something that had been moving in their “direction” as they left what they called The Deeps behind them.'

Ahronian spread his well-manicured hands.  'Dragons lie, Alexander...'

Dragons again?
  This was getting good!  She wondered when she'd get to see him.  Unfortunately, she'd been so distracted she missed some of what “Roger” said, after that.

'I pointed this out to you, I believe, in the report I prepared following my
first
visit, all those years ago.  My opinion is unchanged.  In my view the evidence points more to Lao Pi Shen bringing you this fellow merely for his own amusement.'

Things got a bit complicated after that, but she gathered that Roger thought the Dragon Lord was playing a joke on Keepie, one that'd take years and years before it got funny.  Except it probably wouldn't be that sort of a joke.

But Keepie thought the Dragon wasn't joking at all, and was very serious about keeping Godsson locked up.

She wondered if Godsson scared the Dragon?  Did Godsson know his weakness?  Did dragons have a weakness?  But if they did, and Godsson knew what it was, why not just tell Uncle?  And she wasn't sure if the Dragon – or the Dragon Lord, it wasn't clear whether he was a real dragon or not – was a baddie or a goodie.  They didn't talk like he was either, really.  More like he was just kind of scary.

Which made sense if he was a real dragon.  She decided maybe dragons
would
play tricks, though.

Then Roger was rude about Keepie's research, but Keepie just smiled, and kind of said Roger didn't do
proper
research, except not exactly in those words.  Once again she had the strong feeling they both wanted to punch each other, even though they kept smiling at each other.

Professor Sanders didn't say anything, just seemed to watch everything, as far as she could tell whenever she looked at him.  Which was mostly when she thought Keepie and the mean professor wanted to thump one another.

At one point, being careful not to let Roger see, she made a little gesture like she was shooting him with her bow and arrow, and for the first time, saw Keepie relax.  For a moment, he almost smiled.

But then it got more interesting again, if a bit hard to follow.

Keepie asked, 'So you discount the FBI agent's own reported impressions; as well as Godsson's reaction at the time my ward took her impetuous action?'

Roger smiled.  'I thought for a moment you were about to ask me to take into account your
ward's
own story.'  He steepled his fingers.  'Surely you're aware of Arizmendi's seminal 2008 paper…'

He started talking about communicating diss-show-tiv states, and psycho dramas, impetuous young girls – which she was pretty sure was a
good
thing, since he also praised her imagination – and “Suggest ability.”

But maybe she'd got that wrong, since Keepie suddenly seemed to be asking if maybe there
might
be a third kind of Incorp-or-Real being, and then he and Roger got all super-polite I'd-like-to-punch-you-
so-
hard again, talking about empathy and mirror new-rones and stuff, before getting interesting again.

Her uncle was saying, 'your exhausting
Tax-onna-me of the Incorp-or-Real
offers no scope for explaining the physical transport of living beings, such as Lao Pi Shen's mysterious arrival here in ’47, or for that matter d'Artelle's still-unexplained physical escape.'

But Roger didn't look impressed.  'Mere trickery, Alex.  Even before magic truly returned, “magicians” performed convincing feats of physical trans location.  Armed with real magic, how much easier must such deceptions be to pull off now, eh?  If these imaginary new Incorp-or-Real beings of yours can cross the cell Wards, then presumably so too could Mr Benson.  Yet there he remains.'

Who was “Mr Benson?”  Godsson?  Surely not!

'So you are
certain
there is no cause for concern?'

'Absolutely.  Though perhaps you need to keep a closer eye on your ward, eh?  Especially if you're bringing her up here, of all places.  I wouldn't be letting
my
children climb around in roof cavities!'

Suddenly
she
wanted to punch him. '
You
wouldn't be able to stop me.  You're mean.  I'd run away if
you
were my uncle!'

She was on her feet, she realized.

They were all looking at her, but it was
true
: she would, and he couldn't!

But the mean professor just sneered at her like he was pleased that she knew it wasn't a real smile, and then the grown-ups were all politely rude to each other while they said their goodbyes – except Professor Sanders – and then the Director took the mean professor away.

Good riddance!

'Perhaps I should have let you bring your bow and arrows after all, Wild Thing, eh?'

And just like that, they were friends again.  He even read to her before she went to sleep.

But Grounding was still absolutely
awful.
  If it'd gone longer than a week, she reckoned they would've had to lock her up ’cause she would've
really
gone insane.  Thank goodness for the trids and things.  At least she got to watch
Death on Blood Mountain
a bunch more times.

But it was even better when she was finally allowed outside again.  And Keepie kind of hinted that
he
thought she'd done the right thing, and that he was pleased with her.

So, really, it all worked out quite well in the end, apart from the fact that they'd glued shut her secret door.

And as for not being allowed to visit Godsson any more?  She'd find a way…

PART II

(Two years later)

Chapter 17 

Things were quite comfortable at the Institute – though sometimes Sara wished for other kids her own age to play with.  Her uncle seemed happy with her “progress,” even if she wasn't exactly sure what that meant.  Though he did say he wished it was faster than the sea level's retreat.  She'd made the mistake of asking “what sea level retreat?”: that led to a whole lesson on the “re-icing” of Antarctica.

Which was the old name for the south-most continent in the whole world.  It was supposed to be covered real deep in ice, and was where all the penguins lived.  But no polar bears.

Uncle said lowering the sea level was a dramatic demonstration of what the human race could achieve.  But then he grumbled that if the governments had fixed the problem, Antarctica would still have its old name.  He said “Newtopia” was a stupid name.

But Sara thought it sounded nice: kind of shiny and new.  It was also much easier to say, too.  Maybe she'd visit it, one day.

For Godsson's “episode” the first of those two years, Harmon had managed to broker a deal which everyone found acceptable: Sara would form a “backup team” with Faith.  She would observe with Brian Shanahan by video from the security office of his house-cum-bunker; and she and Faith would be called in should it become necessary.