Part 10 (1/2)

I taste cocoa so hot that it burns and the burning forces away the memories. Taking the mug, I smile as confidently as I can. A few more sips and Abalone continues.

”The coding here is screwy, but I've finally resolved it into a chart or graph. Thing is, I can't quite figure out what is being measured here.”

Professor Isabella leans forward and looks. ”There should be a key for those colors. Did you check for hypertext files?”

”Too obvious.” Abalone swats herself and searches; in a few moments she has superimposed a block of orange on the pale blue screen. My head swims when I try to read the text, so I lean back and listen.

”The black line indicates something called 'magical thinking' the red line is empathy; the purple is memory: lavender for short-term, violet for long-term,” Abalone reads, shaping her mouth around unfamiliar jargon.

”What was that chart t.i.tled, Abalone?”

Abalone flips off the hypertext. ”'Brain Scan Mapping.' Weird. I didn't know the brain could be mapped.”

”Well, it's not completely, but my guess is that a place like Ivy Green Inst.i.tute would be very skilled at such things. Look through your pirated files, my girl, and see if you find anything further on these terms.”

Abalone taps a few codes in what I recognize now as a search sequence. Finally, she shakes her head.

”There is nothing I can find quickly, but there's a lot of garbage in here, programming I'm not set to read. Let me have a day to clean things up.”

”Fine. I'll do some research. I know what empathy and memory are, but this magical thinking bears further investigation.”

I prop myself up on the sofa. ”They also serve who only stand and wait.”

”Or take a long nap,” Professor Isabella says, pus.h.i.+ng me back and drawing the covers over me and my dragons.

By the next evening, Professor Isabella has finished her research and Abalone has brought the Ivy Green files into a readable form. I have spent the day nervously house-cleaning and every surface glistens. The air is heavy with the scent of polish.

”Who wants to start?” Abalone asks, propping her computer on her knees and leaning comfortably against a wall.

”Let me,” Professor Isabella requests. ”I've been reading since yesterday and have come up with some rather interesting information.”

”About this magical thinking?”

”Yes.”

Drumming the floor with my heels, I suggest, ”Make haste, the better foot before.”

”Briefly, then,” Professor Isabella says, ”magical thinking is a concept referring to the irrational tendency of people to a.s.sociate the qualities of the animate with the inanimate. In earlier days, this took the form of imagining that spirits dwelt in items or places. The practice is common. The j.a.panese s.h.i.+nto is centered around spirits or 'kami,' for example. The ancient Greeks imagined natural spirits-naiads, sylphs, dryads, which inhabited water, air, and trees.”

She pauses to check her notes. ”The temptation to lecture further is overwhelming, but let me move closer to my point. Even though people no longer formally acknowledge their belief in spirits for the inanimate, the practice remains. Athletes are particularly conspicuous for their belief that a certain 'lucky' item-shoe, s.h.i.+rt, bat-affects their play. Children insist that a certain treasured toy is 'real'-not a thing of cloth or plastic. Even otherwise balanced, rational individuals will attribute traits of life to an unliving object.”

I nod. This makes perfect sense to me-so much so that I wonder at the need for a lengthy explanation. Abalone looks skeptical.

”You mean, like superst.i.tion?”

”Yes, but more.” Professor Isabella raises a finger. ”Imagine if you can someone, an actual person if possible, whom you truly hate.”

The expression that flickers across Abalone's face is so ugly and intense that there is no doubt that she has fastened on someone quite specific.

”Now think of someone you like and trust-Head Wolf, for example.”

Abalone nods.

Professor Isabella smiles. ”Now imagine I have two identical s.h.i.+rts here and I tell you that one was worn by Head Wolf and one by the other person. Which would you choose to wear?”

”Why, Head Wolf's!”

”Even if I told you that both s.h.i.+rts had been laundered several times since being worn?”

Abalone grins. ”Yep, even if.”

”And if I gave you the wrong s.h.i.+rt by accident and you learned that you were wearing this other s.h.i.+rt?”

Abalone shakes as if to rid herself of an uncomfortable feeling.

”I wouldn't like it very much-I'd feel sick.”

”Magical thinking.” Professor Isabella gestures, palms outward. ”No reason to it, just a human quirk. Or is it?”

”Go on,” Abalone prompts. ”How does this tie into Sarah?”

”I suspect that she...Well, pull your files, dear. I don't just want to toss out guesses.”

”Okay.” Abalone works for a moment. ”There's a series of these Brain Scan test charts. My guess from the dates is that they are the results of tests done at different times.”

”Yes, that makes sense.”

”Then there are these charts.” Abalone angles the screen so that we can see. ”They're comparing three sets of results. The colors stand for different people. Most often, Dylan, Sarah, and Eleanora. Sometimes other people.”

”Hmm, other test subjects or possibly controls.” Professor Isabella drums the table. ”Any write-ups on Sarah?”

”Some, really jargon filled but, from what I get, the fact that she didn't talk made it tough for them to guess what she had. They knew she had something, not how much. Dylan seems to be the big favorite; Eleanora scored way up there on memory, but lower in empathy and nearly null in magical thinking. After a point, she isn't shown on as many charts, usually just an annual survey.”

”Sarah's files end when?”

”About when she must have been transferred to the Home. I'll do some more hunting to see if either of the others have later records.”

”Very good. However, what you have found thus far confirms some of my guesses.” Professor Isabella steeples her gnarled fingers. ”I believe that Sarah and her siblings were part of a project to cultivate magical thinking. Whether they were the result of breeding for the tendency or something else, I cannot guess at this point. What I can guess is that the experiment was most successful with Dylan. His charted abilities are higher than Sarah's in magical thinking and empathy. Sarah's memory is listed as better. Eleanora, although extraordinary in some ways, was apparently a washout from the experimenter's point of view. What do you think so far?”

I nod. This matches my awakening memories some, although Eleanora is but faintly remembered and those memories see her as near grown while I am quite small. I doubt that I saw her often.

”I pa.s.s with relief from the tossing sea of Cause and Theory,” I comment, ”to the ground of Result and Fact.”

”Yeah,” Abalone agrees, ”but what I don't get is why anyone would want to create superst.i.tious people.”

”Ah,” Professor Isabella smiles. ”Not superst.i.tious-magical thinkers-people who so believe in or perhaps sense the living spirits in the inanimate world that what is dead matter to you and me might somehow be able to communicate with them.”

”Sharp old bird, ain't she,” Betwixt comments.

”Sharper than most,” Between cuts in. ”Now, hush.”