We are Tam Page 3

  "I am here."

  "Who are you?" asked Tam, hardly daring to move her lips.

  "I am Tameron of the 25th century. I am your mirror-image, your exact image. See how alike we are." She turned slowly before Tam.

  The girl was exactly like herself, except for the long plait and the silver mark from her forehead to the tip of her nose. She wore a tracksuit of shiny material that kept changing colour. Now it was pale lilac.

  "Why does your suit keep changing colour?" asked Tam.

  "Body-suits reflect our mental and physical health. The blonde girl leant forward and felt Tam's school uniform. "This is harsh material and a worried colour. Do I worry you?"

  "No, not now, and my clothes don't change colour this is my winter school uniform. It's always navy blue."

  Tameron looked surprised. "How do you reflect when you are happy or sad?"

  Tam shrugged thoughtfully. "I laugh a lot when I am happy, and when I am sad I tell my parents."

  "Parents! You have more than one?" Tameron was shocked, her body-suit turned purple.

  Tam blinked at the change. "Yes. A mother and a father, and a brother."

  "What is a brother?"

  "A boy. A year older than me."

  "Two parents and another younger! Isn't your home-dome over-crowded?"

  Without waiting for an answer Tameron began to wander around Tam's room examining things as she continued. "I only have one parent, but I do have an older-parent, he is helping me connect with you. We have been singing your name all sunning."

  "Is that why I've had a headache?"

  "What is a headache?"

  "It's when you have a pain in your head. I've had one all day."

  "Why didn't you comarise? If you had I could have reached you sooner."

  "What does comarise mean?"

  Tameron stared at her. If this girl did not understand comarise, she might not understand anything. The 20th century must be very primitive. Speaking very slowly and clearly, she explained about comarising and about her parent's problem.

  "Try to understand. Darwei is lost in your century. I need your help to find him."

  "Darwei? The poet who wrote about giant snow-white mosquitoes?"

  Tameron nodded and sat on the end of Tam's bed.

  "Darwei found a piece of paper buried in a place called Public Library. It mentioned a cylinder. Darwei went into the forbidden area of Oldcit to search for the cylinder so that he could prove that the past exists. He was caught and expelled from Unitec, then rejected by his decade living-group. He cannot wear the silver mark." She pointed to her own mark. "Without it all communication is forbidden."

  "You mean he can't talk to anyone?"

  "Nor they to him."

  "For how long?"

  "Forever. Naturally, Darwei comarised to recover from the shock, but it is not a normal, healing comarisation. His life-colour has faded, and I must find him before he dies."

  At that moment the bedroom door swung open, Steven switched on the light, balancing a tray of food on one hand.

  "What are you doing in the dark, Tam?"

  "Oh, nothing." Tam threw a startled look at Tameron, who shook her head towards Steven and slipped off the bed just as he put the tray down. It was clear that he couldn't see her.

  "I've brought you some comics, and Mum says to try and eat something." He lounged across the end of her bed making the tray rock while flicking through a comic.

  Tameron circled the room, pretending to examine books and ornaments but all the time watching Steven.

  "Do you feel better?" he asked, head deep in a comic.

  "Yes thanks, but I'd like to rest." Tam wiggled her feet under his arm, making the comic bounce.

  "Okay, I can take a hint," he rolled off the bed still reading. "See you."

  Tameron, her face full of curiosity, watched him leave.

  "Is that the other younger?"

  "Yes, that's my brother, Steven."

  A grey kitten sidled through the open door and leapt onto the bed, almost upsetting the tray. Just as suddenly it twisted, ears flattened to its head. The fur on its neck rose as it gripped the quilt with sharp claws and let out an eerie screech.

  "What is it?" cried Tameron backing away in terror. Eyes wide, she stretched out her hands to ward off the angry animal, and her body-suit turned a deep green.

  Steven pelted back up the stairs.

  "What's wrong? What's wrong with Napoleon?"

  The cat was crouching flat on the bed, hissing at the corner where Tameron cowered.

  "Stop that Napoleon." Steven tried to pick up the angry kitten, but it lashed out and scratched his hand. "Now he's never done that before. What's wrong? Is there a mouse behind the wardrobe?"

  "No, there isn't. Take him downstairs please, Steven, before he upsets the tray."

  Steven tried to calm the cat by speaking to it, but it ignored him. Leaping from the bed, it landed in front of Tameron, tail lashing, small teeth bared.

  "Got you!" Steven, his hands covered by his jumper grabbed the kitten. It struggled, spitting and scratching. "He's scared silly," he crooned, patting and stroking it. "Poor old thing. What did Tam do?"

  "I didn't do anything," insisted Tam following him to the door and closing it.

  "What a terrible thing," gasped Tameron." What is it?"

  "It's just a kitten, a pet, an animal," said Tam. "He must be able to sense you." She touched the frightened girl's shoulder to comfort her. "It can't hurt you."

  "An animal? I have never seen such a thing. We do not have animals in the 25th century. How can the other younger touch it? I could never do that!" She shivered in disgust.

  "Oh but we love Napoleon. He's so soft and silky... ."

  Tameron shook her head in disbelief. Her suit fading to pink as she became calmer, she walked to the bed, her eyes on the tray.

  "What is this burnt thing?" she poked the toast.

  "Bread, sort of scorched. It tastes good. Want some?"

  Tameron shook her head. "And this?" She picked up a comic.

  "It's a book full of coloured pictures. They tell stories," answered Tam, between mouthfuls of toast.

  "We do not have these. We have vision-books that reflect onto our dome ceilings. I like these." Holding the comic she went to the window and pointed westward towards the city. "Over there is Oldcit, where they caught Darwei, and on this side of it is the Garden of Learned Thought. Oldcit is a wicked place, dark and frightening. There are no night-lights because it is a forbidden area."

  Tam looked at the city. She wanted to ask why it was forbidden. She wanted to ask what was a vision-book? What was a home-dome? But Tameron was now pointing in the other direction.

  "This is the Forest of Harmonious Walking."

  Tam looked out at the tightly packed houses of her suburb. "What about this house?"

  "Here there are only trees," Tameron replied.

  Tam tried to imagine no house, no Pat Woodward orchid garden, no back gate.

  Tameron leant out of the window. "Where is the Town Hall place?"

  Tam pointed to the city. "Over there. You can't see it from here. It has an enormous clock tower."

  "What is a clock tower?"

  Tam pulled Tameron back into the room and pointed to her alarm clock.

  "That's a clock, but the Town hall one is much bigger."

  Tameron nodded. "If you go there, I shall be able to connect mentally with you and find where the cylinder is buried in the 25th century." She smiled at Tam's puzzled look. "There is a cylinder embedded in a pillar on the left hand side of the Town Hall place."

  "Will it help you find your fath... parent?"

  "Yes. Something inside the cylinder will, I am sure of it."

  Suddenly Tameron's face started to blur and her image shimmered and wavered and began to turn transparent.

  "What's happening?" cried Tam, moving towards her mirror-image as if to help her.

  "Older-parent is singing me back. Will you go to the Town Hall
place at the end of next sunning?" Will you?"

  "Wait a minute!" Tam called.

  Tameron's image rapidly faded to an mere outline of pale blue. She just had time to drop the comic before she was gone.

  "Be there, Tam. I shall wait," Tam heard her faint voice.

  "All right, I'll be there, Tam answered the empty room.

  But she couldn't be sure the girl had heard.

  CHAPTER 6. STEVEN BECOMES INVOLVED

  "Hello there. Feeling better?" Tam's father smiled as she came downstairs, carrying the tray back to the kitchen.

  "Yes thanks. What are you doing?"

  "Mending this stool, then I'm going to fix the fireplace. I don't know what your mother does to this house while I'm at work."

  Tam laughed. So did her mother, who was curled up on the sofa sewing.

  "And I'm sewing on buttons. I don't know what your father does to his shirts while I'm at work!"

  Tam sat beside her father watching him glue the rung into place. He looked at her, his blue eyes twinkling. He was an older version of Steven, stocky and square with curly black hair and an easy-going nature that refused to be hurried by his quick-moving wife.

  "Take your glasses off, Dad. You aren't reading now," Tam removed his thick-rimmed glasses.

  "I forgot they were there. Anyway, they make me look dignified and brainy," he grinned.

  Steven came out of the bathroom wrapped in a large towel, still rubbing his hair, grinning in exactly the same way.

  "Someone talking about me? Hi, Tam. Feeling better?

  "Yes thanks, but I'm still hungry. Can I make myself a sandwich please, Mum?"

  "Some for me too," called Steven, hanging over the stairs.

  "You've just eaten," said his mother.

  "I'm still hungry."

  "Then you'll have to come downstairs again, I don't want any eating upstairs."

  "Tam had toast upstairs."

  "Tam was sick. By the way, Tam. Steven thought there was a mouse in your room, He said Napoleon went crazy."

  "Probably a cockroach," interrupted her father, saving Tam from answering. "City houses always have a few hidden away."

  Pat grimaced at the thought. "I'll spray tomorrow."

  Tam was starving. While she ate, she went over everything Tameron had told her. It sounded like a fairy story. No one would believe her. She was sure of it.

  Steven joined her at the table, eating and reading at the same time. Their mother snatched the comic away.

  "How's your homework going?"

  "Did it during recess," Steven leant over and looked at Tam's sandwich. "What's in yours?"

  "Honey. Get away! Make your own."

  Their mother joined their father in the front room to discuss the fireplace. Typically, they didn't agree on how it should be done, but Tam knew her father would win because he was the one fixing it.

  She watched Steven lick the crumbs off his fingers.

  "Steven, do you believe in the future?"

  "Of course I do dillbrain. The future is tomorrow, and tomorrow is my history exam."

  "No I mean centuries in the future," Tam persisted.

  "You mean science fiction?"

  "I suppose so, except I mean the real future."

  "If it's real, it can't be fiction," Steven argued, logically.

  Tam leant across the table and lowered her voice. "When you came into my room earlier, did you see anyone?"

  "Yes. You. Why are we whispering?" he whispered back.

  "There was someone else there, only you couldn't see her - a girl the same age as me."

  "Who do you think you're fooling?" Steven raised his voice. "Mum, Tam's seeing things."

  "Sssshhh," Tam hissed.

  Their parents were too busy arguing about how to get more heat from the fireplace to hear. Tam tried again.

  "It's true. She comes from the 25th century, and she's my mirror-image. That means exactly like me. Her name is Tameron, and that's almost the same as Tamarisk, isn't it?"

  Steven rested on his elbows. "Go on," he said, disbelievingly.

  "She wears a suit that changes colour, and ... ."

  "And I'm Superman." Steven rose to leave the table, but Tam grabbed his arm.

  "It's true. Napoleon could see her. And he didn't like her and she hated him."

  Steven sat down again. "Is that why he went crazy? He shook for half an hour. Swear you're telling the truth."

  Tam crossed her heart. "I swear it."

  "Prove it," he demanded.

  "How can I? I'm the only one who can see her! She's been trying to contact me all sunning. I think that means all day. That's why I had a headache. If only I'd comarised, she could have reached me sooner."

  Steven brushed his damp hair out of his eyes and screwed them up suspiciously. "Comarise? What does that mean?"

  "It's something they do when they feel shock or pain. They comarise, and it goes away. Her parent did it, only something went wrong, because he's lost, and she wants me to help her find him." Tam frowned. "I promised I'd be there, but she left so quickly, I didn't have time to tell her I'm not allowed into the city at night."

  "Listen, Tam this is all a bit far-fetched. Mirror-imaging, comarising. I bet it's something you and Shona have cooked up to trick me."

  "It isn't. It only happened tonight. Shona doesn't know anything about it. You're the only one I've told, and I'm only telling you because I need your help," She moved her chair around the table, closer to him. "I promised I'd go into the city and stand by the Town Hall tomorrow night, just before sunset. I think that's what 'end of sunning' means. Only Mum won't let me go unless you are with me. Will you come, Steven? She watched him anxiously.

  Steven looked hard at her. "Swear on your dying oath you aren't fooling me."

  "I swear. Honestly, I swear!"

  "Will I see her this time?"

  Tam shook her head. "I don't think so."

  "Well I'm not keen about going to meet someone I can't see."

  "I'll tell you everything she says. Everything!" Tam promised.

  "Will you ask her if I have a mirror-image?"

  "Yes."

  "Why the Town Hall?"

  "There's a cylinder buried in the wall and she has to find it. She'll be waiting I know. If you won't come, I'll have to go on my own."

  "Then you'll really be in for it," Steven gestured grimly towards the front room just as their mother sailed through the room, her hands black with soot, her dark eyes flashing.

  "He won't listen you know," she said to no one in particular, but the children were used to that. "As far as he's concerned women aren't supposed to know about fireplaces."

  "If I have to fix it, I should be able to do it my own way," countered their father following her, his face speckled with soot.

  The two children grinned at each other.

  "Go on," hissed Tam.

  Steven nodded. "Mum, Tam and I want to study the Town Hall architecture. Can we go into the city after school tomorrow, please?"

  "Architecture. What for?"

  "It's a sort of project of the future," said Tam.

  "All right, but be home before dark or I'll worry."

  Steven waited until their parents were occupied again, then he whispered to Tam. "I still don't believe you. I'm only going to see for myself. And it better be true. Or else."

  CHAPTER 7. THE MYSTERIOUS PROFESSOR

  The thick stone walls of the State Library muffled the noise of the peak-hour traffic. The Professor sat with hunched shoulders, writing swiftly, resting his chin on his hand. At last, sighing heavily, he dropped his pen, leant back and closed his burning eyes. he had been writing almost non-stop since early morning. Slowly he removed his glasses. it had seemed a good idea at the time, but he hadn't realized how much work it would mean.

  When he had decided to retire, it suddenly struck him that he had worked in the Library for thirty years researching and writing papers that were rarely read. Only a few ardent history scholars, a few u
niversity professors and his secretary knew of his hard work. He felt that he'd been ignored. It wasn't right. After thirty years of effort one ought to be recognized. He wanted to be famous, not only now, but in the future as well. The future had been what his work was for.

  Many ideas crossed his mind, but finally he settled on the cylinder dedicated to future centuries. But just burying it wasn't enough. He could do that easily. No, it had to be headline news. He'd worked hard, and he wanted recognition.

  So he had approached the Lord Mayor. it was easy to convince him that he would be remembered for ever if he buried a cylinder full of 20th century data in the Town Hall. The Lord Mayor was delighted to think that his name would be engraved on a brass plaque and placed where everyone would see it. He even insisted that Professor Darwin Taylor's name be engraved as well - not quite as large, but there, down at the bottom.

  Now the shiny steel cylinder stood upright on the crowded desk, surrounded by piles of papers, photographs and reels of microfilm. So much had to be packed into the half-metre-long tube, that everything was as light and small as possible.

  After weeks of collecting books, sifting through them and recording facts, the Professor was exhausted. The Lord Mayor wanted publicity. Newspapers had already carried the story of the cylinder with photographs of the two men. Already two overseas universities had contacted the Professor and congratulated him. The ceremony would take place on the Town Hall steps on a Saturday morning, to make the most of the shopping crowds. Television cameras would be there. The Professor intended to resign as soon as the cylinder was buried and his plan to be remembered carried out.

  All this had been under way when this other business happened. It was so worrying and upsetting. He should never have allowed it to happen. But it wasn't his fault. If he'd been consulted, he would have refused, he'd have explained that he wasn't well, that he couldn't participate. He rubbed his greying hair and shook his head wearily. No use going on about it. He had to go ahead now, he argued with himself.

  He picked up his pen and began to copy from a book. The paper he wrote on was so thin that it curled at the edges. he covered each page with strange symbols like back-to-front shorthand.

  The door opened and a very large woman appeared carrying a pile of books. She smiled broadly at him. Hastily he covered his writing with a large book and spoke sharply.