Perfect People

123

They travelled two stops on the monorail.

‘What is this place?’ John asked Dettore. ‘Is it some kind of government research campus? And this tube train thing? You don’t exactly seem to have traffic congestion above ground.’

‘I’ll explain it all later on,’ he replied.

They stepped onto a platform, then walked over to an elevator. A boy and a girl, who looked to be in their late teens, both tall and beautiful, dressed in dark blue jumpsuits, exited.

‘Good morning, Brandon, morning, Courtney.’

‘Good morning, Dr Dettore,’ each of them said warmly, as if they were greeting a good friend. They spoke in American accents, like everyone else here, so far.

‘I have Parent People visiting today,’ Dettore said, smiling at John and Naomi.

‘Welcome, Parent People!’ Brandon said,

‘We hope you have a great visit, Parent People!’ Courtney said.

In the elevator, Naomi quizzed Dettore. ‘ Parent People? ’

‘Folks like you and John,’ he replied.

The doors opened and they followed Dettore out into a wide corridor with a dark grey carpet and pale grey paint. Along one wall were glass observation windows, and along the opposite one were flat-screen televisions, the displays of which changed every few seconds with differing mathematical formulae.

Several children walked past them, their ages ranging from around three, he guessed, to their late teens. They were all in pairs, always a boy and a girl, all dressed in jumpsuits and plimsolls. All beautiful-looking. All were chatting animatedly to each other as they walked, each of them greeting Dr Dettore cheerily, and it was clear he knew all their names.

Naomi looked at each of them in turn as they came into the corridor, her heart jumping every time in the desperate hope that it would be Luke and Phoebe. She wondered, darkly, whether the appearance of these children had been stage-managed by Dettore and they had been ordered to look cheery. But despite her anger at the man, she could not convince herself of this. They all looked natural, healthy and happy. It was a strange sensation; there seemed no tension between any of the children, no ragging, no teasing. A surreal harmony.

Dettore stopped by an observation window. Naomi and John joined him and found themselves looking down at a basketball game. Kids playing energetically, a hard but good-natured game.

They moved on, past another window that looked down into a huge indoor swimming-pool complex. In one pool, teenage kids were swimming lengths. In another, they were practising diving. In a third, a game of water polo was in progress.

Then a hundred yards or so on, at the next window, Naomi shot out her hand and gripped John’s.

It was a classroom. Twenty children sat in pairs at double desks, each with their own computer workstation in front of them.

In the third row, seated together, were Luke and Phoebe.

Naomi felt her heart heave, and tears welled in her eyes. They were here! They were alive! Sitting, looking so beautiful in their white jumpsuits, their hair neat, their faces scrubbed, typing, their tiny faces scrunched in concentration one moment, then looking up at their teacher in anticipation the next.

The teacher, a handsome man in his thirties, was on a raised dais, just like any school teacher, but instead of a white board he had a huge electronic screen, on which was a complex-looking algorithm. As they watched, he tapped the screen with a long pointer and the algorithm changed.

Luke raised his hand.

He was asking a question!

Naomi watched, feeling a thrill she just could not explain, and sensed John was experiencing the same.

The teacher said something and the whole class erupted into good-natured laughter, led by Luke. The teacher nodded, turned to the screen. And, to Naomi’s astonishment, made an adjustment to the algorithm with his pointer.

‘You’ve got smart kids,’ Dettore said. ‘We have a lot of very bright kids here, and Luke and Phoebe are right up there towards the top of the scale.’

‘Can we please go down to the classroom, I want to see them now,’ Naomi said.

Dettore looked at his watch. ‘Coming up to break, just a couple of minutes.’

He led them on down the corridor.

‘What is this place?’ John asked again. ‘Who are all these kids? What are you doing here with them, Dr Dettore?’

Without answering, Dettore led them down a flight of stairs and they came out into a huge, bustling, open-plan self-service dining area. Again it was filled with kids all sitting in pairs, beautiful, friendly little people, chatting away.

They followed Dettore out again, along a corridor similar to the one upstairs, then they stopped outside a door. ‘Grade Two classroom,’ he said to John and Naomi.

Moments later the door opened. A boy and a girl walked out, then another, turning right towards the cafeteria, followed a moment later by Luke and Phoebe, all smiles, sharing a joke.

Then they saw their parents and stopped in their tracks.

The laughter vanished instantly from their faces. It was replaced by faint smiles.

Naomi took a step towards them, with her arms out. ‘Darlings! Luke! Phoebe! My darlings!’

They allowed each of their parents to lift them up and cuddle and kiss them, and showed some embarrassed reciprocation. When John and Naomi put them back down, they stood, motionless as waxworks.

The last of the children came out of the classroom, followed by the teacher.

Dettore introduced them. ‘This is Adam Gardner, our senior computing sciences teacher. This is Dr Klaesson and Mrs Klaesson.’

‘Great to meet you!’ He held out his hand. ‘You have awesome children! I’ve had Luke and Phoebe in my class for just one hour, and already they’re teaching me things I don’t know.’ He looked down at the twins and their faces lit up at him in response. Lit up with such passion, John and Naomi were taken aback.

The teacher excused himself and headed off towards the cafeteria. Dettore said, ‘OK, I guess you guys would like some privacy. You’re going into a private room with your parents and you’ll discuss whatever they want to discuss with you. And if at the end of their visit here they decide you are going to go back with them to England, you will go. You hear what I’m saying?’

Neither child responded.