The Ability (Ability, The) (15 page)

“You’ll all remember this, I’m sure,” said Sir Bentley, “but here is a picture that you won’t have seen before.”

He pressed a button on the remote, and the photograph was replaced with another similar one, but in this one the present had been opened and the boy was holding a stuffed penguin with a yellow bow tie and a top hat.

“This photograph was stuck behind the one that you were looking at. Without realizing it, you were all able to see past it using your Ability and reveal what the little boy was holding.”

Lexi gasped loudly as Chris’s jaw dropped open in amazement.

Sir Bentley turned back to face the screen. He pressed the button, and this time a photograph of a street scene appeared. Chris immediately recognized the steps leading up to the church, and, looking at the bottom of the screen, he saw the same red numbers spray-painted onto the pavement that he had read out to Miss Sonata.

“This question tested your Ability to use remote viewing. Has anybody ever heard of remote viewing?”

Philip put up his hand.

“Surprise, surprise, Einstein knows the answer,” said Rex.

Sir Bentley shot Rex a disapproving glance. “Yes, Philip?”

“It’s when you use the power of your mind to view distant places using a picture or coordinates.”

“Exactly right, couldn’t have explained it better myself. In this case you all looked at the map and were able to see the location as it was at exactly that moment and imagined yourself walking around it. The stronger your Ability in this area, the closer you would have landed to the numbers on the pavement. As I’m sure you understand, this is a fantastically useful tool in gathering information by, for example, viewing confidential files in a locked cabinet.

“Finally, Miss Sonata asked you all what animal she was thinking of—a fox. A deceptively difficult question that requires you to access somebody’s mind. A couple of you were able to do this without hesitation—an impressive feat indeed. And so,” said Sir Bentley, turning the screens
on the window back on and filling the room with light once more, “you are now familiar with the Ability. As pupils here, you are officially agents minor for MI18. Any questions?”

Philip raised his hand.

“So we’ll be working for you?”

“You will be studying, but as you have learned from your short introduction to Swahili—that won’t take up too much of your time. As for your role as agents minor, you will be asked to help us with gathering some information.”

“What kind of information is this you want?” asked Sebastian.

“Forget Swahili; Pedro needs
The Beginner’s Guide to English
,” laughed Rex.

“Rex!” boomed Sir Bentley. “My patience wears thin quickly. Pull yourself together and keep your mouth closed unless you have something positive to say.” Rex looked surprised at the rebuke and looked down at his desk.

“In response to your question, Sebastian, we are looking for some answers. The Ability is incredibly powerful, and if the wrong people were to find out about it, it could cause a great deal of harm. Unfortunately, that seems to be exactly what has happened. You may remember that a few weeks ago a man called Cecil Humphries suffered a breakdown on national television while visiting a school.”

“Who is Cecil Humphries?” asked Daisy.

“The politician who stole chocolate from that sick girl’s bedside,” said Philip.

“Oh, that’s not nice.”

“Well, no,” said Sir Bentley. “He was, nevertheless, a government minister and was once a teacher here at Myers Holt.”

“I thought it was a new school,” interrupted Rex.

“No, not exactly,” said Sir Bentley. “Myers Holt opened during World War Two as a school for just one class of very special children each year. Here the pupils were taught, as you will be, to use their Ability so that they could help the government with gathering information. It ran for many years within this very building as the headquarters of MI18 until, thirty years ago, it was closed down. At that time, believe it or not, I was actually a teacher here, as was Cecil Humphries.

“It was never the intention to reopen the school, until Cecil, before he was . . . incapacitated, managed to let us know that the cause of his breakdown was someone using the Ability on him. We believe we know the boy who did it, but we have no more information about him other than what he looks like and that he has mastered some incredibly complex techniques using the Ability, techniques that he must have been taught to use. It turns out that he was not a pupil at the school where the incident occurred, and despite our best efforts we have come to a dead end. However, we know that there is somebody out there using the Ability for harm, and that is of great concern to us. And so, after nearly thirty years, we have made the decision to reopen Myers Holt. We hope you will be able to help us find out who the boy is and how he learned to use the Ability. Any questions?”

Philip raised his hand. “So how come I have never
heard of this? If every child who is twelve has the Ability, then we would all know about it.”

“Interesting question, Philip,” said Sir Bentley, and Philip puffed up with pride.

“The answer to that is that most people do not want to believe what they do not understand. Children who are not trained to use the Ability, for the most part, will never know exactly what they were capable of during their twelfth year. Any strange activity will normally be dismissed as coincidence and ignored. Any other questions?”

“Why did you close Myers Holt?” asked Chris.

Sir Bentley shifted uncomfortably. “It’s a difficult answer, but I’m going to be completely honest with you all. Our last mission was not a successful one. We had become complacent and decided to experiment using a new technique called Inferno that requires close proximity to the target. In doing so, we placed our agents minor in a dangerous situation that had tragic consequences.”

“Tragic? Did somebody die?” asked Daisy, horrified.

“Well, yes. On that terrible night, two children lost their lives. Myers Holt was closed the following day.”

The children all gasped.

“But,” said Sir Bentley, putting his hand up to get their attention, “we have learned our lesson. We would never ask you to do anything that would place you in any danger. If we had any doubts about that, you would not be here today. I will live with the events of that night for the rest of my life, and it is not without careful consideration that we decided to reopen the facility. Your safety will be of my utmost concern. That is my solemn promise to you all.”

“Forget it! I have better things to do than to get myself killed,” said Rex. For once, the others nodded in agreement with him.

“And that is your decision. As I said earlier, at the end of today you will be asked whether you choose to stay here. If you decide not to, then you will be free to leave and return to your old schools. However, if you decide to stay, you will not only have the opportunity to save lives and serve your country, but you will also be given skills that will help you to achieve great things in your own lives. It may interest you to know that one of my former pupils at Myers Holt was Edward Banks.”

“The prime minister?” asked Chris.

“Yes, the prime minister. He came from a broken home and struggled at school. By the age of ten he could barely read. When he was twelve years old, he was accepted into Myers Holt, and only a few years later he was the youngest-ever law graduate of Oxford University and went on to become a very successful lawyer before deciding to turn his hand to politics. As I said, Myers Holt will give you the tools to become extremely successful in any field of your choosing.”

“But,” interrupted Philip, “I don’t understand. If you lose the Ability at thirteen, then what use will that be?”

“You will lose the Ability, but you will retain all the information you learn in that time. Imagine, by July of next year you could all be speaking ten languages fluently and be working on university-level mathematics with ease. It will change your lives for the better, that I can guarantee you.

“Well, I think you’ve heard enough from me for one day. And now I would like to introduce you to somebody who will explain our Mind Access Program—MAP, for short. Follow me,” he said.

They walked down the hallway and into the think-tank room, where six cubicles glowed and hummed in the darkness. Sir Bentley switched on the light to reveal a stout old man kneeling on top of the lime-green cubicle with a screwdriver. He looked up in surprise, wobbled, and then fell from sight, landing on the floor below with a crash.

Sir Bentley hurried round and helped up the old man, who was red-faced and flustered.

“You rather took me by surprise,” explained the man.

“Of course, of course, are you hurt?” asked Sir Bentley, looking concerned.

“No, not at all. I’m well padded,” he said, patting his stomach. He adjusted his glasses and turned to face the children.

“Well, well, our new recruits.”

“Children, this is Professor Ingleby. He is the chief engineer for the government research-and-development division, and he has kindly agreed to help us design the most effective training program possible to teach you how to use your Ability.”

“Delighted, delighted!” he exclaimed, walking round to shake each of the children’s hands vigorously. “And what fun we have in store for you!”

His enthusiasm was contagious, and the children all smiled, even Rex.

“These cubicles have been built with each one of you
in mind. Using information gathered from your school records and your interviews, you have been assigned a teacher that will best suit your personality to guide you through the program. Inside, you will have an opportunity to learn how to use your Ability. The program is as realistic as possible and reacts to your brain waves—you can control it by thinking. Isn’t that marvelous?”

Philip nodded enthusiastically.

“Unfortunately,” said the professor, “we have not yet managed to develop a computer program that can truly replicate the human mind, and so for that you will also have lessons outside of this classroom. I’ll say no more, but let you enter the wonder of MAP.” He picked up a clipboard and peered over his glasses.

“Sebastian, you are in the green cubicle. Philip in purple. Lexi in orange, Christopher in red, Rex in blue, and Daisy, I believe you rather like the color pink.”

Daisy nodded enthusiastically.

“Fabulous! Now, off you go. Enjoy! And don’t forget your seat belts,” said the professor.

“Seat belts?” asked Daisy as they walked over.

“So you can’t move when the drilling starts,” whispered Rex in her ear, as he stepped into his cubicle.

Chris quickly walked over to his one and turned the handle. Inside was a built-in armchair that took up the entire space and a red harness that appeared to buckle in the middle. Chris strapped himself in and pulled the belts tight, just in case. He leaned back into the chair, and the door closed in front of him automatically, leaving him in complete darkness. He waited a moment and
was just beginning to wonder whether he needed to do something to start the thing up when all the walls began to brighten slowly, until all he could see was blue sky around and above him. He looked down, just past his feet, and saw green fields far below him. Chris turned his head, and the chair moved round until Chris faced forward again, at which point the chair stopped. Chris smiled. He turned his head the other way, and the chair followed his gaze round once more; then he quickly spun his head in the opposite direction, and his whole body quickly followed.

He was about to try it again when he felt the chair lean forward slightly, and the vast emerald expanse below him filled the screen. The chair tilted forward again suddenly, taking Chris completely by surprise, and stopped when he was almost horizontal with the floor. His hands moved instinctively to the harness, and he held on tightly as the full weight of his body pushed down onto it. Suddenly he felt himself dive forward and fall through the sky toward the sea of green below him. He wasn’t sure if he was moving or the image was, but the effect was convincing enough to make Chris feel as if he were really flying, not sitting in a box.

As he neared the ground, he straightened up and saw a meadow of white flowers in the distance, and standing in the middle of it was the distant but unmistakable image of a woman dressed in red. As he glided toward her, the image became clearer, and he was able to see that she had long, straight brown hair that was held back on one side by a single yellow flower. She wore a deep red dress with a long skirt that reached the ground and swayed gently about
her in the breeze. She looked up, saw Chris approaching, and waved. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman that Chris had ever seen, and when she smiled at him, he felt a deep calm wash over him. He came to a stop and realized that he was now sitting up straight again.

“Good morning, Christopher,” she said in a gentle voice.

Chris said nothing, but stared into her eyes, hypnotized.

“My name is Cassandra,” she said, “and I will be your teacher. Are you comfortable? Can I get you anything?”

Chris still didn’t speak, wondering what would happen next.

“Christopher, don’t be nervous. I am a computer program, but you can talk to me. I can respond to you as any human would. Are you comfortable?”

“Erm, yes,” said Chris in a robotic voice, leaning forward into an imaginary microphone, so that the computer could understand him.

“That’s wonderful. Sit back and relax; I can hear you clearly.”

Chris sat back stiffly.

“Perhaps some water will help,” said Cassandra, and Chris felt a low rumble beneath his right arm. “Lift up your armrest,” she instructed him gently.

Chris moved his arm and pulled up the armrest to reveal a lit hatch with a bottle of water in it. He picked it up, twisted the cap off the bottle, took a deep gulp, and then placed it back in the armrest and closed it. He looked back up and Cassandra smiled.

“Better?”

Chris nodded.

“Good. As I said, my name is Cassandra, and my task here is to teach you to use your Ability. But I have limitations. I will guide you through the basics, but then you need to use your skills with real people and their complex minds. Does that make sense?”