The Ability (Ability, The) (14 page)

The children said nothing, but they were all leaning forward, intrigued, when the sound of the door opening disturbed them. Chris turned and saw Miss Sonata walk in, smiling. She walked over to Sir Bentley and, even though she was wearing a gray somber pinstripe jacket and skirt, she looked very young standing next to him.

“I think you have all met Miss Sonata,” said Sir Bentley.

“Good morning, everybody,” said Miss Sonata brightly.

“Miss Sonata is my right-hand man, if you will. She will also be teaching your curriculum lessons. You’ll meet Ms. Lamb tomorrow—she was unable to join us today. She is deputy headmistress at Myers Holt and will be teaching you most of your other lessons.”

“What other lessons?” asked Lexi.

“Everything will be explained in due course,” answered Sir Bentley cryptically.

“Miss Sonata, I’ll leave you to it. Once again, welcome to Myers Holt,” he said, and walked out.

Miss Sonata waited for the door to close and then turned back to face the children.

“So, let’s show you around,” she said.

The children all stood and followed her out of the room and into the hallway.

“This is the dining room,” said Miss Sonata, walking over to a door opposite. She opened it, and the children jostled to look inside. The room was rectangular and bathed in light. Large French windows ran along three sides of the room and looked out over fields. Chris recognized the view as one similar to the landscape in his bedroom. Between the windows, on bare brick walls, hung baskets filled with overflowing ivy and plants. Philip walked over to one of the windows and pressed his face up to the glass.

“The windows are screens,” explained Miss Sonata, “designed to disguise the fact that you are living underground. The light comes from specially designed sun-replicating bulbs, which will give you plenty of vitamin D and make sure that the plants thrive. And, unlike upstairs, the weather is always fine,” she said, smiling.

“Breakfast is served at eight in the morning, lunch at twelve, and dinner at seven. There is always fresh fruit and snacks available here,” she said, pointing to a table in the corner with a white-and-red-checked tablecloth, on top of which sat an enormous bowl of fruit, cheeses, yogurts, and other foods that Chris couldn’t make out from where he stood, “so you can help yourselves at any time.”

Rex walked over to the table and grabbed three oranges, stuffing them all into his pockets.

“I could get used to this,” he said, picking up an apple and taking an enormous bite out of it.

“I’m glad you approve,” said Miss Sonata, smiling,
and changed the subject. “Why don’t I show you your bedrooms.”

The first room they came to was Chris’s.

Miss Sonata turned to Philip. “You’ll be sharing with Christopher,” she said.

“Looks like it’s me and you, then, Pedro,” said Rex to Sebastian. Sebastian grimaced, while Chris and Philip smiled at each other in relief.

Miss Sonata moved on to the next room without comment.

“So this one is Rex and Sebastian’s room, and the one next to it is Lexi and Daisy’s. You can have a look around later. We’ll move on to the school area. I think you’ll like it,” said Miss Sonata, leading them back down the hallway and into the entrance foyer.

Miss Sonata stood by the door directly opposite the elevator and waited for the children to join her, then opened the door. Chris walked in, and his mouth dropped open in amazement. He looked around him and saw that the other children had exactly the same expression on their faces.

An enormous glass dome towered above and around them and extended all the way down to the ground. It was made up of the screens he had seen in the other rooms and projected a vast landscape of fields under a perfect summer sky, with gentle wisps of clouds passing by above their heads. In front of him was a large, gentle hill with an enormous blossom tree in full bloom at its top. Chris knelt down on the stone pathway that ran around the vast room and touched the vibrant green grass in front of him. He was shocked to find that it was real.

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” said Daisy, and she smiled for the first time that day.

“This is the Dome. Over on the other side of the hill is the swimming pool and changing rooms. The classroom wing is over here,” said Miss Sonata, leading them to the right. They stopped at one of the glass screens, and Miss Sonata turned a handle, revealing another hallway with the same yellow-and-cream-striped walls and green carpets as the rest of the facility. She led them to a wooden door marked with a gold plaque:
CLASSROOM
.

Miss Sonata led them into a large white room, with sash windows looking out over a river. At the front was a whiteboard and a long table that faced two rows of glass desks. The chairs behind them were large and comfortable with tall backs, and each one was covered in bright colors.

“Oooh, I want the pink one,” said Daisy.

“It’s all yours,” said Lexi.

“What is this?” asked Sebastian, pointing to the wall behind them. Chris turned to look and saw a diagram that took up the whole wall. It looked like another map, but instead of buildings there were rainbow-colored boxes, each one labeled in ornate black script with titles such as
LIES
,
FEARS & PHOBIAS
,
PEOPLE
,
BRIEF ENCOUNTERS
, and even one called
EMBARRASSMENT
.

“Ahh, this is your mind map. You will learn more about it later,” said Miss Sonata, looking up at the clock on the wall. “It’s nearly lunchtime. I’ll quickly show you your think tanks.”

Miss Sonata led them back out into the corridor and into a dark room. The room, as far as Chris could see,
contained only six large cubicles standing in a line, each one glowing a different color.

“Again, all will be explained,” she said, closing the door. “Now, Maura will be waiting.”

Miss Sonata led them back down into the Dome and up to the top of the hill, where Maura was laying out food on picnic blankets.

“Lunch is served,” she said, handing them each a plate.

“Enjoy,” said Miss Sonata. “Sir Bentley will be back in an hour; he’ll be taking you for your first lesson.”

The children all nodded, their mouths already full.

“So, what do you think those think-tank things are?” asked Lexi after they had stuffed themselves full of food. It was the first time any of them had spoken since they had sat down.

“Torture chambers,” said Rex, “definitely torture chambers.”

Daisy’s eyes widened in horror. “Why would they want to torture us?” she asked.

“That’s how they get you to learn. Nothing makes you remember your times tables faster than the threat of having your fingernails ripped out slowly,” he said, holding his hand up to Daisy’s face and pretending to rip out his thumbnail.

“That is highly unlikely,” said Philip matter-of-factly. “Fear reduces performance. Fact.”

“He’s winding you up,” said Lexi, pushing Rex’s hand away from Daisy.

“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you when you hear the sound of the drill start up,” said Rex.

“Far more likely to be a computer-based teaching program,” continued Philip, ignoring Rex. “I read about it in this month’s
Science Review
.”

“
Science Review
? I’m sorry,
how
old are you?” asked Rex.

“Old enough to know my times tables,” replied Philip, and the others sniggered.

“Get a life, Einstein,” said Rex.

“I guess we’ll find out in a moment,” said Chris, spotting Sir Bentley looking over at them from the entrance to the classroom wing. Daisy stood up and smoothed out her dress, and they all walked down and followed Sir Bentley into the classroom.

Chris walked in last and took the blue seat at the front by the door, and Sir Bentley made his way over to the whiteboard. He cleared his throat and began.

“As you all know, my name is Bentley Jones, and I am headmaster of Myers Holt. This is in addition to my role as director general of MI5, which some of you may have heard of.”

“MI5? So you’re a spy?” asked Philip incredulously.

“No, not a spy, though I do have spies that work for me. Ultimately, my job is to protect the United Kingdom from threats on our shores. As you can imagine, this is an extremely difficult job, but for the most part we’re very successful at keeping Britain safe. However, from time to time, situations arise that are beyond even our usual resources, and we have to be creative in ways to tackle them. Myers Holt, the home of MI18, is one of those ways.”

“There’s no such thing as MI18,” said Philip matter-of-factly.

“There’s no such thing as MI18
on paper
, Philip, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. MI18 was formed during World War Two as a top-secret agency that employed children to help them with their intelligence efforts.”

The children all looked at each other in confusion.

“The reason we have picked the six of you is that you all have particular talents that can help us. And by ‘us’ I mean the United Kingdom. Myers Holt was established to help nurture those talents and use them in ways that will be of great good, and in return you will learn more than you could from a lifetime of schooling. I think, perhaps, the best way to explain is to give you a demonstration. First, do any of you speak Swahili?”

The children all shook their heads.

“Good,” he said, and picked up a stack of books on his table. He handed one to each child.

Chris looked at the cover of the book.
A Beginner’s Guide to Swahili.
He opened up the book to a page in the middle, on a section about emergencies. Phrases in Swahili were followed by their translation in English. He stopped at one of the English sentences and read.

Please could you call an ambulance. My friend requires immediate medical attention.

“I’d like you all to close your books and listen to me carefully,” said Sir Bentley. Chris put the book down and looked up.

“When I ask you to begin, I want you to open the book up to the first page. I don’t want you to read it, or even to try to understand or remember what you are looking at. All I want you to do is to
look
at the page—a quick glance
will do—and then move on to the next page. There are”—he picked up the book on his desk and turned to the back page—“one hundred eighty-five pages in this book. That should take you about five minutes to glance through. Right, off you go.”

Chris opened up the book and did exactly as instructed, glancing briefly at each page, then turning to the next. He tried to concentrate, but his mind kept wandering, trying to work out what the point of the exercise was. He reached the end and closed the book, just as the others did the same.

“Good,” said Sir Bentley. “Lexi. Please translate the following into Swahili.” He picked up the book and let it fall open. “‘There is a fire in the garden.’”

“Uh, I don’t speak Swahili,” said Lexi, flustered.

“Actually, you do. Don’t think about it; just say it.”

“Um.
Kuna moto bustani pale
.” The children looked at Lexi in amazement. Lexi looked around to see who had said that, as if she couldn’t believe that those words had come out of her own mouth.

“Excellent and absolutely correct, as you can see if you turn to page thirty-two.”

“What? That’s impossible. Or a fix,” said Rex, looking annoyed.

“Entirely possible, Rex. Perhaps you could do the next one: ‘Where is the nearest police station?’ ”

Rex opened his mouth, but instead of delivering the sentence in nonsense words, as he had intended to do, he answered in perfect Swahili.

“Kituo cha polisi kipo wapi?”
His eyes widened in surprise.

“Now Chris,” said Sir Bentley, and Chris sat up straight. “‘I want to go to the cinema tonight.’”

Chris hesitated.

“Again, don’t think; just speak. Your brain will do the work without you realizing.”

Chris tried again.

“Nataka kwenda sinema leo usiku.”

Chris couldn’t believe it and felt complete confusion. He had spent three years learning French and could barely remember the numbers to ten.

Sir Bentley repeated the task with Daisy, Sebastian, and finally Philip, who were all left with the same shocked expression on their faces.

Sir Bentley gathered up the books and put them back on his desk.

“Does anyone know what percentage of our brain, on average, human beings use?”

Philip put up his hand immediately.

“Ten percent,” he answered.

“Exactly right. However, during World War Two, a man named Walter Vander stumbled onto something through sheer chance. He discovered that children, beginning on the day that they turn twelve—the transitional year from child to young adult—are able to use their brains to their full capacity. This lasts until the last day of your twelfth year and then stops as suddenly as it started. During this time, if you know how, it is possible to learn the most incredible skills, which are as powerful as they are, unfortunately, short-lived. We call this power the Ability, and it is the reason that you are all here today.”

Sir Bentley paused to let the information sink in. Finally, Chris put up his hand, looking as confused at the other children in the room.

“Yes, Christopher?”

“So, you’re telling us that we have this Ability, that’s why we’re here?”

“Actually, all children have it at the age of twelve, to varying degrees. The reason that we asked the six of you in particular to come here is because you have all recently turned twelve and, although every child we tested can be trained to use the Ability, some have more of a natural talent. That is what the test you took was designed to show us.” Sir Bentley walked round to the back of his desk, opened a drawer, and took out a remote control. He pressed a button, and a screen came down from the ceiling in front of the whiteboard. He pressed another button, and the screens on the windows turned off, leaving the room pitch-black. They heard a click, and the screen in front of them lit up with the image of a boy underneath a Christmas tree, the same photograph that Miss Sonata had shown Chris back at his house.