Part 12 (2/2)

'Yes ...'

'Which means, according to Islam, you mustn't respect her.'

Saladin blushed bright pink. 'Well, no ...I do respect Miss Zoe. Very much.'

'Then why do Muslim women wear these burqa things?'

Saladin was helpless.

It was Zoe who saved him. 'Not all men are as gentlemanly as Aziz, Lily. They can't control their urges as well as he can.'

'Urges?' Lily asked, zeroing in on the new word.

Zoe said, 'And that that is a topic we will address when you're a little older.' is a topic we will address when you're a little older.'

All this time, a sheet of paper hung in the kitchen, attached by a magnet to the refrigerator-on it were seven boxes, filled with a strange kind of writing, reproductions of the seven main verses in the Callimachus Text.

It looked like this: It was positioned so that Lily saw it every day when she went to get her morning juice. When she asked what it said, Doris Epper answered: 'We don't know. We're hoping that one day you'll be able to tell us.'

When she hit five years of age, Max Epper took charge of her schooling, teaching her maths, science, ancient history and languages-with an emphasis on Latin, Greek and cuneiform.

It turned out she had a singular apt.i.tude for languages, learning them quickly and fluidly-with almost unnatural ease.

By age 7, she had mastered Latin and Greek.

By 8, she was deciphering Egyptian hieroglyphics.

By 9, she had outstripped Epper in his knowledge of cuneiform- translating all three of the ancient languages from the Bisitun Monument.

Not to mention the modern languages she was learning just by speaking with her multinational guardians. She particularly loved the difficult Gaelic tongue spoken by her Irish protectors, Zoe and Liam Kissane.

Epper was a wonderful teacher.

Lily just adored him-loved his wise old face, his kind blue eyes, and the gentle yet clever way he taught.

And so she renamed him Wizard Wizard.

Every day, she would race to his schoolroom in the east wing of the farmhouse to learn new and interesting things.

Poems like 'The Charge of the Light Brigade' were acted out with verve and energy.

Simple arithmetic was ill.u.s.trated with farming examples.

And science was a blast-literally. For Wizard had all manner of crazy home-made inventions in his workshop at the farm. Gadgets and tools that emerged from his dabblings in electromagnetism and foam epoxies.

He once told Lily that a long time ago he had worked at a laboratory called Sandia in the United States, and that it was a secret place where they made secret things.

She liked that. Secret things.

She got along with the team members in different ways.

Although she wasn't a very girly girl, Zoe taught Lily some necessary girly things-like brus.h.i.+ng her hair, filing her nails and how to make boys do her bidding.

Matador, the Spanish trooper, spent a lot of time in the gym they'd set up in the smaller barn. At first he let Lily watch him work out. Then, as she grew bigger, he let her sit on one end of a plank of wood while he bench-pressed it, balancing her ma.s.s with lead weights at the other end, lifting her high into the air. She loved that.

Witch Doctor, the Jamaican commando, taught her how to tread in silence-they would terrorise Doris Epper, sneaking up on her when she dozed on the veranda in the afternoon sun.

But the soldier she bonded with most was Zoe's brother, Liam, call-sign Gunman.

Gunman was a big guy, broad and tall, easily six-foot-three- with a wide honest face, a fully-shaven head, and large jug ears.

He wasn't all that smart, but he was a great commando.

With Lily, though, he just clicked-perhaps because they were of an equal intelligence level, even though he was 24 and she was just a kid.

They watched movies and read books together.

They played the video game Splinter Cell endlessly in dual-player mode-killing baddies left, right and centre, co-ordinating their moves with loud shouts and commands. They actually made a good team, winning the inaugural 'Victoria Station Dual-Player Splinter Cell Compet.i.tion', defeating Wizard and Zoe in a hard-fought final.

They went on adventures around the station-including one visit to a giant hangar concealed in the western hills of the property, inside which they found the towering Halicarna.s.sus. Halicarna.s.sus.

Lily gazed in awe at the great 747, and felt a thrill of excitement when she walked up to it, touched it and read a peculiar inscription on its underbelly: 'PRESIDENT ONE-AIR FORCE OF IRAQ'.

But most of all, no-one would ever forget the famous tea party held on the front lawn one summer, with Mister Bear, Little Dog, Big Dog, Barbie, Lily and Gunman-huge Gunman, all six feet of him, hunched over on a tiny plastic chair, sipping from a plastic teacup, allowing Lily to pour him another cup of imaginary tea.

Everyone in the team saw it-watching from inside the farmhouse, alerted by a whisper from Doris. The thing was, no-one ever-ever-teased Gunman about the incident.

This was unusual.

They were soldiers. They could and did make fun of each other on a regular basis, but for some reason, Gunman's relations.h.i.+p with Lily was off-limits.

Well, except for the time he and Lily broke into Aziz's workshop in the big barn, took a plasticine-like substance from his lock-box and used it to blow up Barbie's campervan.

Both Gunman and Lily copped h.e.l.l for that.

And so, gradually, the team became a family-a family centred around the protection and nurturing of one little girl.

Of course, Lily loved the attention-like when she discovered ballet and put on a one-girl show to a cheering audience of seven commandos and two grandparent-like figures.

And still every day, when she appeared in the kitchen for breakfast, whoever happened to be there at the time would turn to see if she noticed the sheet of paper magnetised to the fridge.

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