Seven Point Eight by Marie A. Harbon Page B

in the imposing bay window area of the room, and Paul took a seat there, ready to dine.
    While drinking his tea, he handed the hair pin to Miss Tynedale and explained that a previous visitor must have dropped it. She turned it over in her hand.
    “Hmmm, I don’t recognise it and frankly, there haven’t been any female visitors to that room for a number of years. I could ask the chambermaid though.”
    That had to be the answer, it belonged to the chambermaid.
    As Paul finished his tea, she informed him, “They’re almost ready for you upstairs. Everyone is looking forward to meeting you.”
    He wondered exactly how extraordinary these people were, and what abilities they may possess.
          
    ***
    Paul and Miss Tynedale entered Room 7, a clinical looking place with tables and chairs that had partitions between them. Two young women sat in the room, one with fair hair and a Japanese girl.
    “This is Emilie,” Miss Tynedale said, introducing the fair haired woman.
    She had a simple elegance about her, with her long, fair hair plaited and gently pulled back to reveal a fresh face. Slightly freckled, she had startling blue eyes, a short nose, and a wide mouth. She wore modest clothing: a flowered dress to her knees, and flat shoes. Paul got the impression she had a nuance of self confidence yet was quite shy, an odd blend that gave her an interesting allure.
    “ Bonjour Monsieur ,” she said, revealing her true nationality.
    “ Bonjour Mademoiselle ,” he replied.
    “She’d like to give you a demonstration of her abilities,” Miss Tynedale interjected.
    Paul felt receptive so Emilie continued, handing him paper and a pen.
    “ Parlez vous le francais?”
    He gestured with his hand, indicating not very much.
    “Please sit behind the partition and draw a picture,” she told him.
    Paul did as she asked, and twiddled the pen before commencing to draw. He scribbled a diagram, featuring some electrons orbiting a nucleus and when he’d finished, he admired his scrawl and put the pen down.
    “Look at your picture, and see it in your mind,” Emilie instructed.
    He stared at it, taking in every line and each blob of ink where the pen had paused. Emilie concentrated, closing her eyes so she could visualise what Paul had drawn, then she herself began to scribble. After a few minutes, she put down her pen.
    “This is what you drew,” she said, “come and see.”
    He picked up his picture and they compared. Close, pretty damn close. Her picture represented a more artistic rendering of his electrons and nucleus. She’d accurately visualised his drawing in her mind, unless she’d cheated. Emilie smiled coquettishly.
    “I receive thoughts and pictures from the mind of another,” she explained. “Your English word for this is telepathy, I believe.”
    Paul looked to Miss Tynedale, who gave nothing more away while Emilie appeared to mentally scan him. Her disclosed ability made him conscious of his thoughts.
    They moved over to the Japanese girl, who sat alone at a small round table. Miss Tynedale introduced her as Sakie, this petite girl with long dark straight hair, beautiful oriental eyes that could have melted Hitler’s heart, and compact little body. She had the skin of a teenager, showing no signs of ageing or cellular degeneration. When they approached, she gestured for him to sit opposite her.
    Sakie took a compass out of her pocket, placed it on the table, pulled her chair closer and suspended her hands above it. Paul watched closely. She moved her hands over the top of the compass, slowly at first then she gathered momentum, introducing bodily movements so that finally, the whole of her body performed a circular action. The needle of the compass first began to quiver in response to her hands. As her bodily movements increased in intensity, so did the needle’s response. It sputtered around at first, but began to do something amazing. At the peak of her movement, it spun wildly, total at the mercy of