Part 7 (1/2)
The red eyes sparkle gratefully.
Between says, ”We do know stuff from when you were little, back in the Inst.i.tute. You're a success, Sarah. The only one who ended up crazy and out of there. We lost Dylan; we don't want to lose you.”
Questions for which I lack words flutter into my throat and get trapped there. My hands rise to shake them free.
”Easy, Sarah.” Professor Isabella has reemerged, wrapped in a towel. ”Calm down.”
I let my hands fall and the dragons look at each other, sighing simultaneously so that they blow up each other's noses. Unable to help myself, I giggle. Professor Isabella shakes her head with concern and retreats to dress. I realize that she too, is worried that I am losing control.
Between nods thoughtfully. ”We can't explain it, Sarah. We're just us and the Inst.i.tute people weren't exactly chatty.”
Betwixt interrupts. ”You know the Bible quote? 'Eyes have they, but they see not. They have ears, but they hear not'? Someone wanted people who could hear and see what most people can't and that's you and that's Dylan and that's too much for any human.”
I nod and hold up my hand, signaling ”enough.” I need to think, to reflect. Memories without words are rising up and I know if I do not carefully handle them, I will be drowned.
When Professor Isabella returns, coifed and wearing only one skirt and sweater, Abalone ignores her questions and keeps working. She does nod thanks when the professor supplies her with cocoa from a vending machine. Then the two of us withdraw to a corner and Professor begins to read to me from the collected works of Mark Twain.
We are both so immersed in the essay she is reading that when Abalone lets out a long whistle of amazement, we both jump.
”Found something?” Professor Isabella asks, flipping off the portable library screen that Abalone had bought soon after our first meeting.
”And something,” Abalone confirms, rumpling her unrumpleable hair. ”The outer programs were a breeze. I could have gotten through them when I...I got through them easily. When I started on the records for this latest 'purge' and some Dr. Haas who was in charge of Sarah's case, well...”
She shakes her head in amazement.
”So you didn't learn anything?” Professor Isabella asks.
Abalone raises her eyebrows indignantly, ”I didn't say that. I just said it wasn't easy. C'mere.
”I didn't want to be too direct about this,” Abalone begins once we have positioned ourselves so that we can see her screen. ”If someone is really looking for Sarah, her files might be flagged so that unauthorized entry would be noticed. So I went on a less obvious tangent.”
She pauses to sip her cocoa, grimacing when she finds it has grown cold.
”I knew about when Sarah appeared on the street, so I worked backward through the files, looking for when the orders came down. When I found them, I cross-checked by matching not only Sarah's name, but Ali and Francis, those two fellows Jerome mentioned. Then, when I was sure I had the right group I checked who the controlling authorities were. There were three physicians or psychiatrists, Doctors Davidoff, N'goya, and Haas, who came in from outside. I found next that Haas had been the one who selected Sarah as one of those to be pitched into the cold cruel.”
This time she looks at the cold cocoa before sipping.
”Let me go pee. Will you get refills, Sarah? Maybe some chips or other junk?”
She tosses me a credit slip and I head out, proud that I can do this without panicking. Behind me, Betwixt and Between call for me to remember a treat for them.
When I return, Abalone is back in her perch on the bed. I am pleased that the story has waited for me. Once we are settled with cocoa and cake and chips and the rest of my loot from the vending machines, Abalone continues her report.
”Well, the next jump was a leap of faith. I still didn't want to try Sarah's file or code a search with her specs, not until I knew more. Then it occurred to me. Someone may want Sarah back-it may be a private individual even, but whoever it is is using the Home. This is where the faith came in-what if someone screwed up letting Sarah out? I decided that made sense, since that would clear up why someone was trying to get her back. Well, the candidate for prime screwup was this Dr. Haas, who cleared Sarah to go.”
Abalone pauses, swigs, and hits an icon on her screen. The screen s.h.i.+fts, but the pattern of numbers and letters remains unintelligible to me. Professor Isabella leans forward, though, scans and grunts.
”Bingo, Abalone. Bingo!”
Beaming, Abalone continues, ”With the Haas name as a tracer, I did some more snooping. Not only does she have permission to readmit Sarah if she's found, but she was the one who had Ali and Francis dragged in. I bet they were questioned and then junked when they couldn't say where our friend here was.”
”Did you ever go after Sarah's files?” Professor Isabella asks, her hand clasped tight around her drink.
”Yep, I couldn't give up, not when things were going so well. Something might have made it tougher for me later.”
”Pshaw,” Professor Isabella chuckles.
I giggle.
”All right, I'm curious. This gets weirder the more I look. I expected to find either that Peep was exaggerating or that a simple recall had been issued. I find neither one nor the other, a mixture of both.”
She touches a few icons and this time I recognize my face up in one corner of the screen. The words mean nothing, but I remember the computer in the outpatient processing center reciting: ”Sarah. No surname. No precise date of birth. Admitted from Ivy Green Inst.i.tute, a private sanatorium.”
I tense, waiting for the flas.h.i.+ng lights, the warning ”Cla.s.sified!”
Nothing happens and slowly I let my muscles unknot, realizing that Abalone has failed to alert the warning.
”Ivy Green Inst.i.tute,” Professor Isabella muses. ”Yes, that's where Sarah was brought from. I remember hearing something about it. Did you check them out?”
”Not yet. I wanted to see if I could get into Sarah's file at the Home. I avoided a Cla.s.sified flag-it was pretty plain, meant to keep out peeping staff grunts.”
”What did you find?”
Abalone's smile vanishes. ”It's been rewritten, look.”
The screen flickers. The same picture is there, but in the swimming characters is information that makes Professor Isabella gasp.
”To be ignorant of one's ignorance is the malady of the ignorant,” I hint, tired of being ignored.
”Sorry, Sarah,” Professor Isabella apologizes. ”Ignorance may be bliss, here. Abalone's right, the file describes a young woman of about your age and appearance, but nothing else is the same. The woman is not listed as a possible autistic, but as a probably dangerous paranoid. Your little identifying traits-like speaking in quotes-are completely missing.”
I look with puzzlement at Abalone and she wrinkles her brow. ”I don't know, Sarah, but I got out of that file as fast as I could. I checked the recall on Ali and Francis-not much help there except that Dr. Haas issued it. I think she's behind the search for you-well, at least involved with it.”
Professor Isabella is still looking at the altered file.
”This frightens me, girls. The woman depicted here is dangerous-if she was 'accidentally' killed or, worse, doped to the gills, there aren't many who would question the wisdom of the action. By then, she could not defend herself.”
”Wolf's Heart!” Abalone cries, kicking a chair leg. ”Can Sarah, anyhow? You really need to listen to follow her as it is. She could be dragged off before anyone could understand her and decide to step in.”
”That he is mad”-I point to myself-”'tis true: 'tis true 'tis pity; And pity 'tis 'tis true.”
”Sarah, honey”-Professor Isabella pats my hand-”there is a method to your madness but Abalone is right, not many will take time to find it. Abalone, how long until they find she is in the Jungle?”
”Peep says Edelweiss knows someone wants Sarah. That means others do, too. My guess is until Sarah gets more time with Head Wolf than the others like. The Law doesn't forbid Pack members to fight, just demands that the fight is 'alone and afar.'”
”'Lest others take part in the quarrel and the Pack be diminished by war,” I finish, remembering with a pounding heart the conversation Betwixt and Between had reported.