The Glimpse Read online

  Across the water, she could see stals jammed with people miling about, browsing, buying, seling. She could hear oriental music and the faint base beats of something electronic.

  She returned to the living room and began searching for a key to close the wheelhouse hatch. She planned to head out and buy herself a late breakfast, then a large coat.

  ‘Hey!’ Lila caled breathlessly into the cabin. She clattered down the steps carrying a pizza box. Her interface projected animated gremlins. They ripped through the top of the cardboard box and audibly gobbled up the pizza.

  ‘Cole said you’d sleep late, but I wasn’t sure if I’d miss you.

  I’ve brought lunch.’

  Ana took the warm carton and the creatures disappeared.

  disappeared.

  As Lila jumped off the last ladder rung the box burst back to life with a jingle. Lila closed her thumb and forefinger 183

  together across her chest. The hand gesture muted her interface sensor.

  ‘I was just about to go out, but I couldn’t find a key for the hatch,’ Ana said.

  ‘Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. People know us around here.’ She went to the bookshelf and dug out a key from a ceramic owl-shaped pot. ‘But here,’ she said. ‘For next time.’

  ‘Actualy,’ Ana said, ‘I was going to ask you about that.

  Um . . . when do you think I’l need to find somewhere else? I get the impression that whoever usualy sleeps in the cabin wil be back sometime soon.’

  Lila laughed. ‘Don’t you know?’ she said.

  ‘Know what?’

  ‘It’s Cole’s cabin. This is his boat.’

  ‘Oh.’ Flustered and embarrassed, Ana turned to get glasses from a rack beside the kitchen sink. ‘Yeah, I knew it was his boat, but I kind of thought he and Rachel were together. He didn’t say anything about the bed. I didn’t realise. I suppose I’d better try that youth hostel then, what was it caled? On Greenland road or something . . .’

  ‘Absolutely not,’ Lila said.

  ‘Absolutely not,’ Lila said.

  ‘But I couldn’t—’

  ‘Yes, you could. Cole wil sleep on the couch.’

  Ana cringed. Not only had Cole evacuated his cabin for her last night, but her playing had prevented him from using the sofa. She felt awkward accepting the arrange-ment. She’d assumed Cole and Rachel, living together on the same boat, were an item. The prospect of Cole being single made her uncomfortable.

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  Lila dropped the cardboard box on the kitchen table and tossed back the lid.

  ‘Did you two argue about something?’ she asked. A tangy odour of tomato sauce and tinned mushrooms drifted off the pizza. Ana’s stomach churned. No one in the Community ate fast food, especialy not girls of her age who had to think of their complexions and the health of their soon-to-be-child-bearing bodies.

  ‘Argue?’ she asked. Lila removed a slice of pizza and offered it to Ana on a plate. Ana prodded it.

  ‘Oh, maybe he’s just worried about tomorrow night,’

  Lila said.

  ‘What’s happening tomorrow night?’

  ‘Wel, now he’s no longer in detention, he’s back to helping a Pure from one of the Communities get into the Project. A guy that wants to disappear.’

  Ana remembered the three Pures working for Novastra who’d al vanished, reportedly abducted.

  ‘Why does he want to disappear?’

  Lila shrugged and stuffed more pizza into her mouth.

  ‘He’s a minister. He’s got this ancient recording proving Novastra, the government, and the Chairman of the Board came up with the whole idea of Pures before that Nobel Prize-winning guy ever came close to discovering a genetic pattern for schizophrenia. Do you know what a Glimpse is?’

  At the mention of her father, Ana’s cheeks flushed. But Lila didn’t seem to notice. ‘Uh, a brief look at something?’

  ‘No, I mean an Enlightenment Glimpse.’

  ‘As in the Enlightenment Project Cole’s a member of?’

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  Lila nodded, chewing her pizza. ‘But it’s not what you think.’

  ‘I don’t know what I think any more.’

  ‘Wel, that’s a start,’ Lila said, smiling. ‘Originaly, the Project was one of the temporary camps set up by the government after the housing crash. Except that summer a flu virus spread through it. The media overdramatised the problem and the government ended up putting the camp under quarantine for six months. The government ensured the wals were impenetrable. They stopped anyone entering or leaving the camp. Finaly, nine months anyone entering or leaving the camp. Finaly, nine months later the camp got a clean bil of health and the government announced that they were relocating everyone up north. A lot of people in the camp wanted to stay. There were big protests, et cetera, et cetera, and finaly the government gave in and left them alone. Any of this sound familiar?’

  Ana shook her head.

  ‘Wel, the camp worked on becoming self-sufficient.

  Animals, crop farming and their own smal mils for electricity and wels for water. Several years later, when a document-ary crew came to do a folow-up story on them, they were living this idylic life compared to the chaotic madness of the City. This was al before the Pure Genome Split Re-ferendum. It was the media who dubbed the camp the

  “Enlightenment Project”. Many of the things the people living there advocated went against what the government was doing. As the voice of the Project grew and became more political, Richard Cox, the Project’s spokesperson was attacked and defamed. They tried to make out he was a charlatan, anti-establishment and only interested in power.’

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  ‘Richard Cox, the terrorist bomber?’

  ‘If you believe what the government want you to believe.

  He was innocent. Anyway, the media got hold of Richard Cox’s past – stock trader, lost milions, walked out on family and kids – he almost had another breakdown. But this Nganasan shaman turned up inside the Project.

  this Nganasan shaman turned up inside the Project.

  Came out of nowhere. I mean, we’re not simply talking about scaling a wal – the country’s borders were heavily restricted by then. You couldn’t just decide to go on holiday somewhere, or come into the country to visit long-lost relatives. Aside from the fact that the guy came from Siberia!’

  Ana put down her pizza and folded her arms across her chest. Maybe the Project wasn’t as dangerous as the media made out, but clearly there was some weird stuff going on there.

  ‘Anyway, this shaman was able to enter the spiritual plane. He healed Richard, and showed him there was a boy he’d been looking out for, who could potentialy become part of a very important event in the future. As long as Richard continued to protect the boy and keep him out of trouble.’

  ‘And Cole’s supposed to be that boy?’

  ‘You said it.’

  Ana bit the insides of her cheeks, annoyed with herself for jumping to the conclusion Lila was clearly trying to foist on her.

  ‘OK, so what’s an Enlightenment Glimpse then?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s a fleeting vision of a likely future.’

  ‘Oh right, so the Project leaders do say they can see the 187

  future.’ No wonder they have a dodgy reputation if they go about spouting that sort of stuff.

  Lila leant back in her chair. ‘The problem with a Glimpse,’ she said, ‘is it’s fractured. Like looking in a broken mirror with missing pieces.’

  ‘It doesn’t sound any different to al the other Beliefs,’

  Ana said. ‘You just have to have faith in what you’re told.

  You’ve never actualy experienced one of these Glimpses for yourself, have you?’

  ‘No, not me,’ Lila said.

  A tingle ran up Ana’s spine. The implication sat between them like a chalenge. Ana narrowed her eyes.

  ‘Cole,’ she said. It wasn’t a question.

  Lila nodded.

  ‘Cole’s
seen the future . . . How?’

  ‘Wel the shaman was able to help him enter a plane of the spirit world by appearing to him in a dream and showing him a door. When Cole walked through the door it was as though he’d walked into the future. As real as you and me sitting here.’

  ‘I thought you said it was fractured.’

  ‘Wel, imagine you were lying in your bed nine years ago and you suddenly found yourself here now. You wouldn’t know anything about what had happened to get you here.

  you here.

  So it’s like being given a piece of a puzzle, but you’ve no idea how it al fits together.’

  ‘And Cole told you this?’

  ‘No. Cole doesn’t speak about it. Richard told me.’

  ‘The terrorist bomber?’

  ‘Why do I get the feeling we’re going round in circles?’

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  ‘Perhaps we’re on a time loop.’

  ‘Ha ha.’

  A thump resounded on the roof as someone jumped aboard.

  ‘I’ve got to get back to the stal,’ Lila said. ‘If you don’t finish the pizza, can you put it in the fridge?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘OK. See you later.’

  She bounded into the living area and waited by the ladder as Cole descended. ‘Hi, bro.’

  Ana got up from the table and self-consciously ran a hand through the short strands of her shower-damp hair.

  As if she hadn’t felt tense enough around Cole before –

  now he was some kind of clairvoyant.

  You don’t believe what Lila told you, she reminded You don’t believe what Lila told you, she reminded herself.

  Mystical Experience Disorder was a temporary disturbance in a person’s perceptions that they then attributed to some higher force. Simply put, a halucination.

  But nothing seemed straightforward any more.

  Cole swept through the living room like he was riding a wave of fresh air and energy. He dumped a manila bag on the kitchen table and cleared aside the pizza box.

  ‘Have you eaten?’ he asked, puling down a chopping board.

  ‘Lila brought the pizza, but no, not realy.’ His scent of summer, washing powder and something spicy like cinna-mon, overwhelmed her. She had to physicaly stop herself from stepping closer to guzzle it up. As she stood with her hands pressed to her sides, she noticed he hadn’t actualy looked at her yet.

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  ‘I’m juicing. You want apple and banana, or orange and lemon?’

  ‘Apple and banana would be great, thanks.’

  He roled his sweater sleeves up to his elbows. The muscles in his forearms flexed as he took the fruit from the manila bag and cut the apple into eighths. Then he plugged in a blender and began juicing.

  ‘I er . . .’ Ana had to shout to be heard. ‘I’m sorry about last night.’

  He cut the power. Her voice seemed to echo in the sudden quiet. His eyes finaly drank her in. She felt pleased, but disconcerted at the same time. There was something in his look she didn’t understand.

  ‘I didn’t realise I was sleeping in your cabin,’ she said,

  ‘and by staying up I left you with nowhere.’

  ‘Oh that.’ He shrugged, flicking the blender back on.

  She wondered where he’d ended up sleeping. With Rachel? Lila had said they weren’t a couple, but Ana knew things in the City weren’t as strict as they were in the Community. In the Community everything was black and white.

  Here, romantic relationships took on shades of grey; they were ful of uncertainty, maybes, broken promises.

  Ana watched Cole from the corner of her eye, wondering what drove him; what sort of awful things had made him run away from the orphanage and seek refuge in the Project.

  Finaly he turned off the blender and they could talk again.

  ‘Where did you learn to play piano?’ she asked.

  ‘The orphanage.’ Cole poured out two glasses of fruit 190

  juice. ‘There was an old piano there. I didn’t have much else to do and none of the kids had interfaces or pods or else to do and none of the kids had interfaces or pods or anything to play music on, so if I heard something in the street or on the radio, I’d go back and try and work out the notes. By the time I left I could play a bit and then Richard got me my piano.’ He gestured to the living room.

  Ana rubbed the tight pressure across her chest. She’d had years of lessons. For the last twelve months she’d studied under one of the country’s most gifted teachers, yet she was just a mimic. She couldn’t even interpret a piece of music, let alone write something. She simply copied others who’d gone before her.

  ‘How much original material have you got?’ she asked.

  Cole shrugged. ‘No idea,’ he said. ‘Ten or fifteen hours of stuff I guess. Here . . .’ He passed her a glass, then took out a rol of paper from his back pocket and laid it flat on the kitchen table. ‘These are the admissions to the loony dumps on the night of the concert.’

  Stil thinking about the unbelievable fact that Cole had ten to fifteen hours of original compositions lying around, Ana struggled with the change of subject.

  ‘Loony dumps?’

  ‘Psych bins . . . They’re your best bet.’

  She fel silent. Last night she’d accused him of abducting Jasper, and now he was helping her find him. ‘Thank you,’

  she said eventualy. She drank her juice slowly, purposefuly making herself savour the flavours and not look at Cole.

  Then she began scanning the sheets of paper.

  ‘Those are al the dumps within a hundred-mile radius of London – a conceivable distance if they were driving,’

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  Cole said. ‘But I think it’s best to start closer to home.

  I’ve taken a look and I reckon there are two strong probabilit-ies. Here.’ He pointed at two names that had been circled.

  ‘They’ve both got John Doe entries for the night of the concert.’

  Ana read the names. St Joseph’s in Putney and Three Mils in the East End.

  ‘If we can find out the exact time of admission,’ Cole continued, ‘then factoring the driving time and the probability that whoever abducted Jasper took him straight there, we might be able to identify where he’s being held.’

  His music, the vision, and now this. Ana felt baffled.

  ‘Thank you. I—’

  Cole nodded, then glanced at his watch. ‘I have to go,’

  he said, finishing his juice in one glug.

  ‘Go?’

  ‘I won’t be long.’ He gathered up his keys.

  ‘I could help you.’

  His blue eyes raked through her. For a moment she didn’t quite know who she was. Or rather, she didn’t feel like the same person she had been a week ago.

  ‘Help me what?’

  ‘Whatever. I won’t get in the way.’ She pushed her hands into the back of her jeans.

  Cole bit his lip. His gaze became appraising. ‘OK,’ he said finaly.

  Her heart leapt. Perhaps she should be trying to stay away from him, but despite how nervous he made her, she didn’t want to. A strange feeling sprang up inside her; an 192

  instinct she knew she had to folow: as long as she stuck with Cole from now on, everything would work out.

  *

  They rode to Archway on his beaten-up Yamaha and parked in a pedestrian walkway flanked on either side by a towering maze of council flats. Ana folowed Cole up a foul-smeling stairwel to a long corridor with endless blue doors. After a couple of minutes, they passed through a suspended tunnel into another corridor.

  Cole knocked at a door with a silver eight tacked over flaky paint, and a white mark where another number had falen off. After a long wait, a heavy-set woman in a track-suit answered. She mumbled a greeting and shuffled back to let them in. From the moment they entered, she didn’t stop scratching her bloated face.

  Tufts of hair sprang up from her bald head in patches.

  Tufts of hair sprang up from h
er bald head in patches.

  Her light-blue eyes were milky and glazed.

  Ana felt repeled by the claustrophobic ambience and stuffy smels as she folowed Cole into the gloom. A narrow kitchen area lay off the main room to their right.

  On their left, a miniature archaic television that wasn’t even flat flickered. Straight ahead, a door led into the back of the unit. Al the curtains were drawn.

  The woman scuffed into the kitchen, put on a kettle, twitched and jerked for a moment, then returned to the sofa. Cole, who’d folowed her into the kitchen, opened a smal window releasing the stale air. Then he took off his black rucksack and began to unpack noodles and rice, tinned fruit and vegetables. He didn’t put anything away.

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  He left it out on the sideboard, replacing a clutter of empty baked-bean tins and soup cartons, which he swept into a plastic bag.

  Afterwards, he crossed the living room and checked behind one of the closed curtains. From the front window, he peeled off a Neighbourhood Watch sticker and pressed it on to some material he produced from his jacket pocket.

  Tucking it away, he looked around as though checking he hadn’t forgotten anything.

  Sensing they were about to leave, Ana let out her breath and edged towards the front door.

  But Cole turned off the tely and crouched before the But Cole turned off the tely and crouched before the woman, taking both her hands in his.

  ‘You’ve got food for the next four days,’ he said, trying to fix the woman’s attention. After a couple of seconds, she nodded. Cole activated his interface. He held up a piece of white plastic in front of his projection. ‘Look,’

  he said. ‘It’s Rafferty, he’s going to be five soon.’ The woman nodded again. Her eyes wandered over Cole’s face. He switched to another image.

  ‘Simone’s due in three months. Look how big she is.’

  ‘Are they coming?’ the woman asked.

  ‘Nate’s going to try, when the baby’s born.’

  ‘OK,’ she said.

  Cole nodded, then stood up. ‘I’l be back soon.’ He leant over and kissed her on the cheek. Then, after a moment, he put his arms around her and pressed his face into her shoulder. She waited for him to finish.

  In that motion, as he embraced the woman – his mother