Living with the Dead
Page 60
Hope followed her look. "Karl..."
He only shrugged, unapologetic, and bit into his croissant.
"I told Karl I want to know," Robyn said.
"Know... ?"
Robyn gave her a look – it was like leaning around the proverbial pachyderm in the room to ask, "what elephant?"
"Everything," she said.
Hope and Karl exchanged another look.
"Let's start with what's important right now," Hope said. "This Adele Morrissey..."
"She's psychic."
Hope paused, as if fighting the temptation to leave it at that, then said, "We call them clairvoyants."
"So she sees the future?"
"No, just the present. It's remote-viewing. Have you ever heard of that?"
Robyn shook her head.
"They used to do it at spiritualist shows, back in Victorian times. The spiritualist would sit behind a screen or in a back room and would describe things in the audience."
"I didn't know that," Karl murmured.
Hope flashed him a smile, as if grateful for the diversion. "That's because you're not True News' s weird-tales girl.
This stuff is my life, remember?"
Robyn hadn't even thought of that, Hope's unusual specialty. There was more to it than a job, obviously.
"Most of that remote-viewing was fake, of course," Hope said, relaxing now, in her element. "Real clairvoyants are extremely rare. It's passed down through generations in varying degrees, so even if you have the blood, you may not be able to remotely view. But those who have the power can see farther than past a screen or into an adjoining room. They focus on a person, using a picture or personal effect."
"Like a psychic."
Hope nodded. "All that stuff has to originally come from somewhere, right? By using that object and focusing, Adele can see you. I have no idea how big a window she gets – like I said, true clairvoyants are rare, so we don't know a lot about them. She'd use that view, though, to pick up clues about your surroundings – a street sign, a landmark..."
"A napkin with a café name on it," Robyn said, remembering the day before.
"Exactly. You said she's a photographer, that she took pictures of Portia for the tabloids. I guess that's how she used her talents."
Clairvoyant paparazzi, able to find their targets anywhere, watch and wait for that moment when they were most likely to do something tabloid-worthy, slip in, snag the shot and leave, while their colleagues chased and hounded and prayed they'd get lucky.
Robyn considered herself a rational person. Too rational, some said. The summer she'd been fourteen, she'd followed a friend to a camp for the arts. At the end of the two weeks, her creative writing instructor told her, as gently as possible, that not all people were cut out to be novelists and if she enjoyed writing, she might want to consider nonfiction instead. In other words, Robyn didn't have an imaginative cell in her body. She'd come to accept that.
But now, faced with the existence of people with real psychic abilities, even her too-rational brain was satisfied that this did make sense, given the evidence. Was it that preposterous, when there were branches of science devoted to studying such phenomena? As Hope said, the stories about ESP and remote-viewing had to come from somewhere. As long as they were talking about people seeing the present, not the future, then yes, Robyn could accept it.
"So Adele is part of this... group," Robyn said. "This community, of people with... extraordinary powers."
"We have some idea who Adele may have aligned herself with and, yes, it's an organization, but for now, the important part is that we know what she is. We'll be able to deal with her."
"But the larger group, community, whatever, the one made up of everyone with paranormal powers..."
"I wouldn't exactly call it a community."
"You know what I mean."
Hope sipped her coffee.
Robyn waited a moment for Hope to answer. When she didn't, she said, "So we have clairvoyants and..."
Hope added another cream. Stirred. Sipped.
"Clairvoyants and..." Robyn prompted.
Hope set her cup down and leaned back. "What else do you need to know?"
"I said I want to know – "
"Need," Karl said.
She looked from one to the other. Both met her gaze, expressions blank.
"So you won't tell me," she said finally.
"Won't, shouldn't, can't..." Hope said. "Anything you need to know, though, I'll – "
"Oh, this is silly." Robyn slumped into the chair, arms crossed. She felt childish doing it, but at least she managed to avoid pouting. "I'm not exactly asking for national security secrets."
"Aren't you?" Karl said. "Perhaps not national security, but certainly very valid security concerns for a group of people."
"Why? So what if the world suddenly discovered people who could remote-view?"
"Have you ever heard of the Inquisition?" Karl asked.
"Now that is silly. Yes, people were afraid of witchcraft in the Middle Ages. They also thought dragons inhabited the edge of the world. Are you honestly going to tell me that if people today knew about clairvoyants, they'd hunt them down and burn them at the stake?"
"Perhaps not."
"There's no perhaps about it, Karl. This isn't the Middle Ages – "
"What if you read a headline announcing the discovery of a mutant gene found in a very small group. This gene forces them to murder one person each year to stay alive, and to feed off people the rest of the year, like parasites.
Would you say vive la différence? Live and let live?"
"Well, no, but whatever those people are – "
"Vampires?"
Robyn blanched. She didn't mean to, but she couldn't help it.
"But if there are... vampires, they aren't people," she said.
"I wouldn't try telling them that," Hope murmured.
Robyn looked at her. Were they serious? Or were they only giving the most outrageous example they could? She straightened and met Karl's gaze.
"Fine, I wouldn't approve of vampires. But that's not – "
"Let's take another example then. A slightly larger group. People with no biological imperative to kill, but with a strong – sometimes overwhelming – instinct to do it. An instinct to see man not as a conscious being, but as just another threat and food source. Many resist the urge, some successfully. Some don't bother to try. Should we exterminate them all? Just to be safe?"
He only shrugged, unapologetic, and bit into his croissant.
"I told Karl I want to know," Robyn said.
"Know... ?"
Robyn gave her a look – it was like leaning around the proverbial pachyderm in the room to ask, "what elephant?"
"Everything," she said.
Hope and Karl exchanged another look.
"Let's start with what's important right now," Hope said. "This Adele Morrissey..."
"She's psychic."
Hope paused, as if fighting the temptation to leave it at that, then said, "We call them clairvoyants."
"So she sees the future?"
"No, just the present. It's remote-viewing. Have you ever heard of that?"
Robyn shook her head.
"They used to do it at spiritualist shows, back in Victorian times. The spiritualist would sit behind a screen or in a back room and would describe things in the audience."
"I didn't know that," Karl murmured.
Hope flashed him a smile, as if grateful for the diversion. "That's because you're not True News' s weird-tales girl.
This stuff is my life, remember?"
Robyn hadn't even thought of that, Hope's unusual specialty. There was more to it than a job, obviously.
"Most of that remote-viewing was fake, of course," Hope said, relaxing now, in her element. "Real clairvoyants are extremely rare. It's passed down through generations in varying degrees, so even if you have the blood, you may not be able to remotely view. But those who have the power can see farther than past a screen or into an adjoining room. They focus on a person, using a picture or personal effect."
"Like a psychic."
Hope nodded. "All that stuff has to originally come from somewhere, right? By using that object and focusing, Adele can see you. I have no idea how big a window she gets – like I said, true clairvoyants are rare, so we don't know a lot about them. She'd use that view, though, to pick up clues about your surroundings – a street sign, a landmark..."
"A napkin with a café name on it," Robyn said, remembering the day before.
"Exactly. You said she's a photographer, that she took pictures of Portia for the tabloids. I guess that's how she used her talents."
Clairvoyant paparazzi, able to find their targets anywhere, watch and wait for that moment when they were most likely to do something tabloid-worthy, slip in, snag the shot and leave, while their colleagues chased and hounded and prayed they'd get lucky.
Robyn considered herself a rational person. Too rational, some said. The summer she'd been fourteen, she'd followed a friend to a camp for the arts. At the end of the two weeks, her creative writing instructor told her, as gently as possible, that not all people were cut out to be novelists and if she enjoyed writing, she might want to consider nonfiction instead. In other words, Robyn didn't have an imaginative cell in her body. She'd come to accept that.
But now, faced with the existence of people with real psychic abilities, even her too-rational brain was satisfied that this did make sense, given the evidence. Was it that preposterous, when there were branches of science devoted to studying such phenomena? As Hope said, the stories about ESP and remote-viewing had to come from somewhere. As long as they were talking about people seeing the present, not the future, then yes, Robyn could accept it.
"So Adele is part of this... group," Robyn said. "This community, of people with... extraordinary powers."
"We have some idea who Adele may have aligned herself with and, yes, it's an organization, but for now, the important part is that we know what she is. We'll be able to deal with her."
"But the larger group, community, whatever, the one made up of everyone with paranormal powers..."
"I wouldn't exactly call it a community."
"You know what I mean."
Hope sipped her coffee.
Robyn waited a moment for Hope to answer. When she didn't, she said, "So we have clairvoyants and..."
Hope added another cream. Stirred. Sipped.
"Clairvoyants and..." Robyn prompted.
Hope set her cup down and leaned back. "What else do you need to know?"
"I said I want to know – "
"Need," Karl said.
She looked from one to the other. Both met her gaze, expressions blank.
"So you won't tell me," she said finally.
"Won't, shouldn't, can't..." Hope said. "Anything you need to know, though, I'll – "
"Oh, this is silly." Robyn slumped into the chair, arms crossed. She felt childish doing it, but at least she managed to avoid pouting. "I'm not exactly asking for national security secrets."
"Aren't you?" Karl said. "Perhaps not national security, but certainly very valid security concerns for a group of people."
"Why? So what if the world suddenly discovered people who could remote-view?"
"Have you ever heard of the Inquisition?" Karl asked.
"Now that is silly. Yes, people were afraid of witchcraft in the Middle Ages. They also thought dragons inhabited the edge of the world. Are you honestly going to tell me that if people today knew about clairvoyants, they'd hunt them down and burn them at the stake?"
"Perhaps not."
"There's no perhaps about it, Karl. This isn't the Middle Ages – "
"What if you read a headline announcing the discovery of a mutant gene found in a very small group. This gene forces them to murder one person each year to stay alive, and to feed off people the rest of the year, like parasites.
Would you say vive la différence? Live and let live?"
"Well, no, but whatever those people are – "
"Vampires?"
Robyn blanched. She didn't mean to, but she couldn't help it.
"But if there are... vampires, they aren't people," she said.
"I wouldn't try telling them that," Hope murmured.
Robyn looked at her. Were they serious? Or were they only giving the most outrageous example they could? She straightened and met Karl's gaze.
"Fine, I wouldn't approve of vampires. But that's not – "
"Let's take another example then. A slightly larger group. People with no biological imperative to kill, but with a strong – sometimes overwhelming – instinct to do it. An instinct to see man not as a conscious being, but as just another threat and food source. Many resist the urge, some successfully. Some don't bother to try. Should we exterminate them all? Just to be safe?"
