Recursion

“No time. Let’s go.”

They jumped…

eva 2: 2051

High above Eva, the lime leaves fluttered gently against the deep blue of the afternoon sky. Flickering pale green and yellow hearts formed a vaulted ceiling over the quiet cathedral-like space between the dark trunks. The air was rich with the smell of soil and summer rain; it insinuated its way into Eva’s body, filling her with its heady presence. She had kicked off her shoes to walk around the clearing, feeling the darkness of the earth between her toes. Eva, held apart from it for so long in the grey headache of South Street, was reco

A voice whispered: “Eva.”

She started and twisted around, trying to see who had spoken. The voice had sounded in her ear, but there was no one there. The space between the trees was a vessel filled with woodland silence, a silence that was now leaking away.

Eva could see Alison, Katie, and Nicolas approaching across the overgrown green lawn that lapped the treeline. They were obviously looking for her. Nicolas spotted Eva first and pointed her out to the others. The three came crashing into her retreat.

“Hello, Eva, I thought we’d find you here.” Alison was on a high, every word packed with a jangling, desperate energy. Katie gave a nervous twitch and quickly turned her head in the other direction. Nicolas stared at her breasts.

“Hello, Eva,” he said. “We’re going to sneak into Pontybodkyn. Are you coming?”

“I can’t. I’ve got a counseling session in an hour.” Eva was glad for the excuse not to go, but Alison wasn’t going to be deflected so easily.

“Skip it,” she said, too loudly, snapping her fingers dismissively. “No one will care. The staff will be pleased to get an extra half-hour’s break.”

“No. I want to go.”

Nicolas directed a knowing smile at her breasts.

“You’ve only been here two weeks, haven’t you? You’ll soon find out. Nobody really cares about counseling here. The staff only do it because it’s their job; we only go because it gives us someone to talk to.”

“Well, I’d like to talk to someone.”

“Come to Pontybodkyn and talk with us. At least we won’t be spending all afternoon trying to convince you there’s something wrong with you.”

Eva ran a hand through her grey hair, tucking it behind her ears. She spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. “There is something wrong with me. That’s why I’m here.”

“Ah,” said Alison, smiling slightly hysterically. “But where you’re going wrong is expecting them to make you better.” She gave an exaggerated sigh and spun around on her heels. The shafts of sunlight flickered over her body. “Oh, this is boring! Come on, Nicolas; come on, Katie. Leave her. We don’t want little miss goody two shoes spoiling our trip.”

“That’s not true…” began Nicolas.

“I said, come on.”

She skipped off across the clearing toward the belt of trees that screened the Center from the main road. Katie shuffled along behind her, head down, hands clasped tightly before her. Nicolas tore his gaze from Eva’s breasts long enough to give an apologetic smile and shrug, then turned and ran to catch up with Alison.

Eva watched them go, then resumed pacing on the soft leaf mold, gazing up at the cathedral roof of leaves. Silence drifted down the shafts of greenish light that filled the space within the trees and Eva began to relax again. Peace and calm and a chance to forget the outside world and to feel that it had forgotten her. Alison was wrong, thought Eva, who had never imagined they could make her better. She just liked having someone to talk to. She simply didn’t think that there was anything wrong with her that could be cured here at the Center.

“Eva. You can’t see me, but I’m here. I know you can hear me. I need to talk to you.”

Apart from the voices, of course. Maybe they could stop her hearing the voices.

Doctor Cevier’s office was large and bare. The high ceiling and wide floor space dwarfed his plastic desk. A few framed pictures and certificates were marooned on the cheerless orange walls. Two shaped plastic chairs sat by a low coffee table set with a tray holding two steaming cups from the vending machine. Five cakes were set out on a plate. Eva took one seat, Doctor Cevier the other. He was a well-built man in his early thirties, his thi

“Well, Eva. Two weeks now. How do you feel?”

“Tired.”

“That’s not surprising. How much sleep are you getting? In an average day, I mean.”

“I don’t know. Fifteen hours?”

Doctor Cevier tapped at his console.

“More like eighteen, according to this. Why do you think that is?”

“What is there to get up for?”

Doctor Cevier said nothing in reply. Instead he picked up one of the cups and took a sip.

“Mmm. Delicious. How do they manage it? Every cup tastes different. Aren’t you going to try some?”

Eva stared at the other cup and said nothing. Through the wide window she could see out across the ragged lawns to the circle of limes. Their leaves rippled and danced in the sunlight.

“I’m sorry?” Eva said.

“I didn’t say anything,” said Doctor Cevier. “Tell me, how are you settling in here? Do you feel comfortable?”

“I suppose so. When are you going to let me go?”

Doctor Cevier took another sip of his drink. “Wonderful. You really should try some. It will help you relax.”

“How? Is it drugged?”

Doctor Cevier laughed a little and tapped at his console again. Eva looked around the empty office. If this were her room, she thought, she would buy some rugs and hang them from the walls, arrange standard lamps and statues around the edge of the room and throw mats and carpets on the floor. Anything to break the dull monotony of the surroundings. Anything that would make the room look less like a waiting room and more like an office, even a bookcase, filled with cheap second-hand books. Doctor Cevier wasn’t speaking now; he gazed at Eva with a half amused expression. Eva ignored him. She looked across at the plastic desk and wondered if Doctor Cevier ever sat behind it. The few books and papers that lay on its surface were facing in her direction.

“Have you given any thought yet on how you got here?”

“No,” Eva said.

“You were very lucky, you know. They thought you were dead when the train pulled into Marseilles.”

“Well, there you go.”

“Well, there you go,” repeated Doctor Cevier, “as you say. Two doctors pronounced you dead, as did a Diagnostics Expert System at the Marseilles Area Hospital. And those things are never wrong.”

“Except in my case.”

“Except in your case. They pulled you back from the dead, Eva. I’ve read the report. Not my field, you understand, but still pretty convincing. If it wasn’t for the fact you’d probably disagree with me, I’d tell you to your face that you were dead.”

“No one can be right all of the time.”

“Very true. You know, at some point we’re going to have to go over what happened that day. But not today.” He tapped at his console again. “This isn’t the first time you’ve been in here, is it?”

“No.”

“Maybe we can talk about your brother sometime.”

“Why not?”

“Why not, indeed?” Doctor Cevier picked up his cup and finished his drink. Eva pointedly left hers untouched.

The rest of the session passed in silence. Doctor Cevier was waiting for Eva to speak. Eva wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. The worst thing was, she didn’t really know why. She knew that he was here to help her; she had even looked forward to this meeting. Now that it had arrived, she felt a sudden surge of obstinacy. Maybe it was the realization that Doctor Cevier represented just another branch of Social Care. He may have a big desk, he may have his doctorate, but he was just the same as those people back in South Street who used to poke their noses into her business. They didn’t really care about curing her, they just wanted the warm glow of validation one got from helping others, whether they wanted helping or not. It was the mention of her brother that had made her realize all this. How dare he mention her brother?