Peter Dickinson - Eva

eva

CONTENTS

Title Page

Part One

Day One

Day Six

Day Seven

Day Seventeen

Month Two, Day Nineteen

Month Two, Day Twenty-Five

Part Two

Month Four, Day Twelve

Month Six, Day Two

Month Six, Day Ten

Month Six, Day Eleven

Month Eight, Days Four And Six

Month Eight, Day Twenty-Nine

Month Nine, Day Fourteen

Year Two, Month Three, Day Seventeen

Year Two, Month Five, Day Nine

Yeah Two, Month Twelve, Days Two and Three

Year Two, Month Twelve, Day Ten

Year Three, Month One, Day Five

Part Three

Year Two, Year. Twenty-Four, Month Forgotten, Day Forgotten

Also by Peter Dickinson

Also Available From Laurel-Leaf Books

Copyright

eva

PART ONE

WAKING

DAY ONE

Waking . . .

Strange . . .

Dream about trees? Oh, come back! Come . . .

Lost . . .

But so strange . . .

Eva was lying on her back. That was strange enough. She always slept facedown. Now she only knew that she wasnt by the sensation of upness and downnessshe couldnt actually feel the pressure of the mattress against her back. She couldnt feel anything. She couldnt be floating? Still dreaming?

When she tried to feel with a hand if the mattress was there, it wouldnt move. Nothing moved! Stuck!

In panic she forced her eyes open. It seemed a huge effort. Slowly the lids rose.

Dim white blur. A misty hovering shape, pale at the center, dark at the edges.

Darling?

With a flood of relief Eva dragged herself out of the nightmare. Moms voice. The mist unblurred a little, and the shape was Moms face. She could see the blue eyes and the mouth now.

She tried to smile, but her lips wouldnt move.

Its all right, darling. Youre going to be all right.

There was something terrible in the voice.

Do you know me, darling? Can you understand what Im saying? Close your eyes and open them again.

The lids moved slow as syrup. When she opened them she could see better, Moms face almost clear, but still just blur beyond.

Oh, darling!

Relief and joy in the voice now but something else still, underneath.

Youre going to be all right, darling. Dont worry. Youve been unconscious for . . . for a long time. Now youre going to start getting better. You arent really paralyzed. You cant move anything except your eyes yet, but you will soon, little by little, until youre running about again, good as new.

Eva closed her eyes. A picnic? Yes, on the seashoreDad standing at the wave edge, holding Grunts hand on one side and Bobos on the other, all three shapes almost black against the glitter off the ripples. And after that? Nothing.

Is she asleep? whispered Mom.

As Eva opened her eyes she heard a faint electronic mutter, and this time she could see clearly enough to notice a thing like a hearing aid tucked in under the black coil of hair by Moms left ear.

I dont know if you can remember the accident, darling. Were all right too, Dad and me, just a bit bruised. Grunt broke his wristthe chimps got loose in the car, you seeon the way back from the seashore. Can you remember? One blink for yes and two for no, all right?

Eva opened and closed the heavy lids, twice.

Oh, darling, its so wonderful to have you back! Ive only got five minutes, because I mustnt wear you out, and then theyll put you back to sleep for a while. Look, this is a toy theyve made for you, until youre really better.

She held up a small black keyboard.

Theyre going to start letting you move your left hand in a day or two, she said. If everything goes well, I mean. So you can use this to do things for yourself, like switching the shaper off and on. Whats the code for that?

Shed asked the question to the air. The mutter answered. She pressed a few keys, and a zone hummed out of sight at the foot of the bed. At the same time a mirror in the ceiling directly above Evas head began to move, showing her first a patch of carpet and then the corner of some kind of machine that stood close by the foot of the bed and then the zone as it sprang to life. It must have been a news program or something, an immense crowd stretching away along a wide street, banners, the drifting trails of tear gas, cries of rage . . .

We dont want that, said Mom and switched off, then listened as the little speaker muttered at her ear.

All right, she said. Darling, they say its time for me to go. Its been so wonderful . . . I never believed . . . Ill just open the blind for you, okay?, so that youve got something to look at next time you wake up . . .

Eva had closed her eyes to answer yes, but the lids didnt seem to want to open. She heard the slats of the blind rattle up and a slight whine directly overhead as the mirror tilted to show her the window.

Oh, darling, said Moms voice, farther away now. There was something in ithad been all along, in spite of the happiness in the words. A difficulty, a sense of effort . . .

A door opened and closed. For a while Eva lay with her eyes shut, expecting to drift off to sleep, back into the dream, but stopped by the need to try and puzzle out what Mom had told her. Thered been an accident in the car on the way back from the picnic, caused by the chimps getting loose. Grunt probablyhe was always up to something. Shed been unconscious since then, and now she was lying here, in some kind of hospital probably, unable to move. But it was going to be all right. They were going to let her start moving her left hand in a day or two, and then later on the rest of her, little by little . . .

Really? Mom wouldnt have liedshe never did. If it had been Dad, now . . .

Her forehead tried to frown but wouldnt move. Shed heard of people being paralyzed after accidents, and then parts of them getting better, but the doctors letting it happen . . . ?

And the keyboard and the mirrorthat showed it was going to take a long time, or they wouldnt have bothered . . .

Something was dragging her down toward darkness. She willed herself awake. She fought to open her eyes. They wouldnt. But almost . . .

A reason to open them . . . something to see . . . the window, Mom had said. She must look out of the window, see . . .

Suckingly the lids heaved up. A blur of bright light, clearing, clearing, and now a white ceiling with a large mirror tilted to show the window. The light dazzled. After the long darkness it was almost like pain, but Eva forced herself to stare through it, waiting for her eyes to adapt to the glare. Now there was mist still, but it was in the mirror. An enormous sky, pale, pale blue. Light streaming sideways beneath it, glittering into diamonds where it struck the windows of the nearer buildings. High rise beyond high rise, far into the distance, all rising out of mist, the familiar, slightly brownish floating dawn mist that you always seemed to get in the city at the start of a fine day. She must be a long way up in a high rise herself, she could see so far. Later on, as the citys half-billion inhabitants began to stir about the streets the mist would rise, thinning as it rose, becoming just a haze but stopping you from seeing more than the first few dozen buildings. But now under the clear dawn sky in the sideways light of a winter sunrise Eva could see over a hundred kilometers, halfway perhaps to the farther shore where the city ended. She felt a sudden surge of happiness, of contentment to have awakened on such a perfect morning. It was like being born again. A morning like the first morning in the world.