Alien Tongues Page 16

  That day's session in the lab continued until 6 pm, when the girls finally quit through exhaustion and hunger. Alice and Séamus went to the cafeteria for dinner.

  "It feels like they're trying to make up for lost time," Alice said. "They seem determined to give it everything they've got now."

  "And their progress today?" Séamus couldn't wait to know, despite feeling a little crass.

  "Not bad, but remember it's early. They're working on a vocabulary they can all agree with. It will take them a couple of weeks, just like the signing. Once they've done that, we'll have the real acid test – whether it continues to develop into a fully-fledged language, or gets stuck in some kind of pidgin backwater."

  "But won't there be maybe earlier signs – like the grammar developing along with the vocabulary?"

  "Maybe," Alice said elusively, then added, "Remember that we have no idea how these things work, really."

  Séamus reminded himself to remain patient. It was vital he passed on that attitude to the girls. He continued to eat his dinner before adding, "I suppose Tina was driving things today?"

  Alice shook her head. "Only right at the start. Then it was Chrissy."

  "That sounds like good news."

  "I agree. It turned out she was kind of the technical master today. The others were starting to back into some version of Mandarin sounds, as they all share fluency in the language and it seems best adapted to the letter constraints, but Chrissy stopped them. She told them that would be useless. She allowed a few Chinese words but blocked most of them. She didn't want this thing adopting a Chinese verbal grammar. She said that was certain to fail to meet the standards needed. This new language can't remind them of any other language."

  "Good for Chrissy! Who would have thought it! But then, she has just the right kind of bloody-minded independence to not care if the others like it or not."

  Alice nodded, smiling. "She reminded everyone that the three letters are just a temporary prop and they shouldn't try to connect sounds. This is a visual language. It shouldn't sound like Chinese or anything else."

  That evening, Chrissy was the last girl he visited. He congratulated her on her work that day. She shrugged. "You know I will do what it takes to make this thing work. I think we all have ideas which can help at the right time." She fell silent and then appeared to have an idea. "But perhaps I can name my own reward for today?"

  "Go ahead," Séamus said, though suspecting he was going to regret giving unconditional consent.

  "Great. Let's put on running gear and go downstairs."

  It was an unusually cold night for early March and especially damp, but there was a clear sky and enough moon to see by. Chrissy led them to the back of the facility where there was a large expanse of lawn. "The perimeter of the lawn is our track," she told him. Let's jog round it twelve times. You keep just behind me, okay?"

  As he ran behind her, Séamus enjoyed the view of her graceful movement. The twelve laps were almost three miles, which was longer than any continuous run they had done before. At the end, Chrissy looked red-cheeked and flushed, her breath creating continuous vapor clouds. "Now for the crazy bit," she told him. "We take off all out clothes and run another two laps. Don't argue! I'm stripping right now so don't leave me standing here naked or I'll get a chill. Anyway, you promised."

  Chrissy disrobed in the part-darkness. Knowing there was no purpose in arguing, Séamus hurriedly did the same. She stood there for a moment, grinning, the sweat rising off her like steam, her skin almost a ghostly white. Then she turned and began jogging again, Séamus keeping behind her as before. The sight of her bare back view, intensely athletic and fluid, mesmerized him. On the second lap she broke into a sprint. He was worried about the safety of their footing, but realized the experience would have been the poorer had they retained their running shoes. When they finished the final lap, Chrissy dropped to the ground, trying to get her breath back. He decided the best thing was to sit down beside her. No sooner did he do so but she rolled on top of him.

  "Wow, wasn't that the most incredible experience?" she exclaimed, sitting on his stomach. "For a short while there I felt totally free! Totally in control of my own life." She looked down at him. "And how did you feel?"

  "Totally free," he replied, "And totally losing control of my own life."

  Chrissy laughed, stood up and quickly dressed. He followed suit, and saw Chrissy to her room. She ran a hand over his chin before going inside. "Thanks for letting me be myself, Séimi," she said, then gave him a quick kiss goodnight.

  The event made Séamus decide it was time to try and understand the nature of the sexuality he was experiencing around him. He was worried that it was a pure fantasy in his head which was precariously buoying him while he absorbed the reality of Sheryl leaving his life. There had been no communication between Sheryl and him since the news story broke. On his side, because he had no idea what to say; on her side, who knew? It was possible that she and her close friends had missed the article, but it was surely just a matter of time before someone brought it to her attention. It was the mother of all slow-motion train-wrecks. Maybe it was this inevitability which prevented the panic feeling that had made him promise so much to her during that phone call. Yet he remained surprised that he was not feeling real depression. Would it hit him like a bolt of lightning some time later?

  He continued to replay their last conversation in his mind. He had always felt some guilt about how his job caused them problems and, when faced with a stark choice, his choice seemed repayment for her past patience. But the Petra sting had essentially been outside his control, or at least would have required greater finesse than he was capable of. If it ended the relationship, he did not feel so much to blame this time. Greater events in the Universe were deciding his future. Yes, that was a very useful way to look at it. Greater events in the Universe. It seemed to be very apt, somehow. Like something else Alice had mentioned the other night, but he could not recall what. Pity.

  But whether or not he was responsible, commonsense told him that the loss of Sheryl was eventually going to hit him hard. He wanted to understand why he was not yet feeling much, if any, of that pain. He knew it had something to do with the girls, but logically it didn't make sense. None of them were really a potential girlfriend, let alone a future wife. Why would his emotions successfully feed off them right now, and when was he likely to face the crash?

  Jenny was the easiest one for him to approach this conversation with, perhaps because her childlike look and behavior made him feel less adult desire. Also he knew her to be perceptive about feelings and always ready to discuss them openly. She was the only one who had not yet made an approach that was suggestively sexual. When walking the next day, he asked her if they ever discussed him. She laughed. "Don't you read the transcripts?" she asked.

  "Sometimes, but they're not easy to follow. And I get the impression that you girls disguise your meaning a lot when you don't want to be overheard."

  "Hey, clever Séimi!" She danced ahead of him. "Of course we discuss you all the time, inventing all sorts of code words that others who don't know you wouldn't pick up."

  "Do you ever discuss things you do to shock and surprise me?"

  "Like you running naked with Chrissy?"

  Séamus felt himself blushing. "She told you?"

  Jenny came to a bench and lay down on it. "She told us she was going running at night with you. Phyllis could see from her window. But we all had guessed she would want to do it naked."

  "Why?"

  "She told you, didn't she? Freedom! Freedom without danger. I suppose as a man you would see it as something sexual, but for us it isn't, not really. Part of it is knowing we're desired by you, but your desire is currently under our control. It's kind of warm and secure and exciting and adventurous all at the same time."

  Séamus sat beside her. "You all feel this way?"

  "Yes, but because we're all different we express it in different ways. All I can say is, watch out for
what Tina and Phyllis are going to get you to do sometime!"

  "And you?"

  "Maybe. But out of the five of us, both you and I are the least adventurous. I think you've had more than enough in your life so far, and I saw what pursuit of excitement did to my parents. You and I just want the warmth and fun of a good family. We have everything we want right here." She sighed and put her head in his lap. "I really wish this project could last forever. Even the toughest times here are better than any time I knew before."

  Séamus felt slightly ashamed to having seen their interactions in the context of sexuality. Chrissy's run had been no more sexual that a family taking a bath together or going to a naturist camp. Earlier, Tina had play-acted a seduction to illustrate her point about male promiscuity. Excess testosterone had a habit of blunting his perceptiveness. If this job was the type of role the Agency was going to use him for in the future, he had better start trying to adjust.

  Over the following days, the girls became noticeably brighter and more talkative. Their conversation in the lab started to return to its level under the signing language. Soon, they had decided to drop the signing as a separate language, and they were now permitted to look at each other through the glass while they continued talking with the keypad. A sign might be used to introduce a new word through the keypad, but after that was excluded. The girls were now enjoying both their previous friendship and also a sense that they were moving ahead with their primary task. Though they couldn't keep up the pace of the first day, their daily sessions were now one to two hours longer than they had originally been.

  By the Monday evening of his boss's arrival, Séamus felt like the project had returned to its previous state of purposefulness and pleasant cooperation. Like Jenny, part of him wished this routine could continue as long as possible. The other part told him life was supposed to be much tougher than this, and he had better get back to the real world or find himself becoming uselessly soft. His boss's visit was therefore timely. No one better to keep him focused on the hard, unforgiving world outside than Barbara Coates. This would be only the third time he had shared a meal with her, and the first time they had eaten alone together. He had little doubt he would learn a lot from that night.

  When she picked him up in her Italian sports car, he thought he detected an element of warmth in her smile he had not seen before. She was immaculately dressed as ever, now in an open-necked white shirt and black slacks. She drove through the winding lanes as if born to them, asking Séamus about the individual girls. She expressed approval of everything he told her. When they arrived at the hotel she check in with reception but did not go to the room, instead taking him straight to the restaurant, remarking that she was famished. She ordered quickly and Séamus, not wanting to delay her, selected at random. He chose a pint of Guinness to drink and she ordered an expensive bottle of Burgundy by name.

  "I hope you have a head for wine," she remarked. "I can manage only one glass and I don't want to waste any of it."

  Then why did you let me order the Guinness, he thought, but told himself to exclude petty thoughts for such a critical meeting. Yes, she had deliberately ruined his marital plans but – as they say in the Agency – it was nothing personal. She would no doubt be explaining to him why such steps had been necessary.

  After a few pleasantries, his boss allowed an appropriate pause before saying, "I've told you already how important this assignment is, Séamus, how vital you are to it, and how I do understand the sacrifices you are making. It's frustrating to me that I cannot at this moment explain everything fully, but I can add some more that I hope will help you soldier on.

  "As for importance, you cannot right now imagine how big this thing is. As soon as we have the number language we need, I can tell you everything I know. Until then, please just accept that, if we succeed, it will make everything else we've done at the Agency seem small by comparison. And this single matter is likely to absorb the rest of your career. It will only get bigger, not smaller."

  An amazing future was being dangled in front of him. Could he believe it? But it was beyond doubt that his boss would never use such words unless they were vital. In some way, vital to her own goals.

  "Let me also add that, from Wilkie's and the scientists' viewpoint, the girls are likely to succeed. This Turner girl is very useful to the project, but she has to work blind and that makes her estimates of little worth." His boss paused. "Now, why do I say you are so vital? You have to understand that the girls are working only for you now. The money was relevant to get them here, but it's barely relevant now.

  Each of them will stick this out to the end so that they don't disappoint you. Can you understand that?"

  Séamus took a deep breath. "Dr Turner did say something similar and I do understand the concept. It doesn't seem right to me, but I admit I don't know enough about such things, so I cannot question your view."

  "It's not just my view," his boss told him. "Dr Stott continues to study these girls through their conversations and is one-hundred percent sure of it." She paused. "As a woman, I can add intuitively that I know he's right. It's a gift you have, Séamus, but also you may sometimes see it as a curse. Either way, the Agency is going to use it mercilessly throughout your career. Agents have many roles, but the most important one is that of persuader. Your persuasive powers are subtle, but immense."

  "I didn't persuade those boys at the mosque, Principal."

  She waved a hand. "I think tonight you had better call me Barbara. As for the mosque, I told them not to select you for that one. Those Muslim men would have seen you as a typical white chap. But in reality you were raised just like them – a minority who obviously understands all too well what it means to be a minority. In short, you were just too sympathetic to their point of view, and they took advantage." She laughed. "I doubt if they could get the measure of you at all, so they decided not to trust you. Sometimes we can trust our opposites more than our own kind."

  Yes, Séamus thought, he could understand that, gazing at his opposite across the table. She continued, "Since this project will also start to absorb all my time too, our futures are going to be entirely linked together. We are going to have to know and understand each other extremely well. Can you accept that?"

  "Of course," he replied. "I think you know a great deal about me already, but I'm very happy to tell you anything else you want to know. As for my knowledge of you, Barbara, I know the way you conduct missions and I've received a lot of excellent advice from you. Other than that, you'll forgive me for saying you're a mystery."

  For the next half hour, Barbara proceeded to give him a biography. As he had expected, she came from a wealthy family and attended one of the elite private girls' schools. She graduated with a First in English Literature from Oxford, then entered the Department of Trade and Industry. It was not long before she was recruited into the Agency, having been identified as someone with perfect credentials.

  "When they explained to me what the Agency did, for the first time in my life I was certain of what I wanted," she told Séamus. "It was impossible for me to turn the job down. Everything else seemed trivial by comparison. I couldn't have stayed at DTI, once I knew there was a job designed exactly for me."

  She married her boyfriend from Oxford and had a daughter who was finishing high school and also going to Oxford later that year. "You know, Séamus," she added as she poured the last of the wine into his glass, "I thought I had the perfect life for a number of years. The perfect job I was so good at, a perfect husband and child. We had great friends, an active social life, and a home which provided every comfort. No doubt many people envied me." She paused and sipped her wine, which was still half-full.

  "You make it sound as if they shouldn't have," Séamus commented, then wished he hadn't. He was finding it harder to remind himself that they were not equals. But Barbara just smiled wistfully, looking a little away from him.

  "It's not that I really mind the younger woman," Barbara said. "He's a man, after all,
and these things do happen. It's the fact that that we seem locked forever into this dead marriage. Neither of us want to end it and create endless gossip and side-taking with our social circles. So we share a home and the management of a daughter, and that's about it. But it's not really equal. He gets all the passion from his young flame and treats me like I'm his sister or something. What do I get? At my age am I supposed to give up on being a woman? But what man is going to approach me for a real relationship? And if I try anything, how long before the word starts going round the Agency, 'Coates is a slut'?"

  His boss's words made Séamus's head spin. This perfect, elegant leader and mentor was opening up without any reservation, exposing startling vulnerability. He had been surprised when Alice's mother had done something similar, and questioned her motives. Barbara's ostensible motives were clearer – she had already said they had to get to know and understand each other extremely well. Was he just being too conventional to accept the literal implications of her words? It was difficult for him to imagine two women whose immediate impressions were more different than Ellen Turner and Barbara Coates, yet suddenly both had stripped off social taboos and revealed painful loneliness to him. It was a statement of the failure of a family, yet by admitting it to him so openly it also felt like an invitation to a kind of family, a shared bond for the future. He was starting to experience Jenny's sense of family, where one could be created simply by mutual need and will.

  Alice's mother at least experienced the relief of Alice returning. Barbara's daughter was soon leaving for college and she would be alone with just her work, which now seemed increasingly his work. How amazing. Two hours ago he would have wondered if his boss gave him a second thought outside of his operational role for her. Now he wondered if she was his emotional responsibility! He wish he hadn't drunk both a pint of beer and a pint of wine, and that his boss wasn't ordering him a double whiskey, even if it was the finest Irish malt on the menu. He wanted to be able to digest this new information clearly.