Mr. Curtain had turned the volume up on the television. A news anchor was saying something about the Emergency. Mr. Curtain giggled — actually giggled — as if he were watching a comedy show. He sipped his juice and returned to his work, humming again.
From her awkward angle inside the crate, Kate could see Mr. Curtain’s wheels pointed toward the printer. Now was the time. She slipped her arm between two crate slats and stretched it out as far as she could. The magnet was still a few inches short of the spectacles. Gripping it as tightly as she could between two fingers, Kate stretched just a tiny bit further. The spectacles twitched. Then quivered. Then slid over to meet the magnet with a click.
Mr. Curtain’s humming stopped. “Hey? Who’s there?”
With a sharp squeak, the wheels whipped about to face the crate, into which Kate, a split second before, had drawn the spectacles. There was a long pause, a tap-tap-tapping of fingers on a hard surface, and finally a grunt. The wheels turned away.
A few minutes later Mr. Curtain had left the room.
The children piled out of the crate, stretching their stiff limbs and rubbing their bruises.
Reynie looked quickly about. “He took his juice, so maybe he’s not coming back. Constance, will you stand guard? You know the code — if you hear someone coming, run in and warn us.” He ushered her out the door before she could think to argue.
Sticky was already going through a stack of fresh printouts. “These are government press releases.”
“What’s a press release?” Kate asked, looking over his shoulder.
“A kind of report sent to the newspapers to be printed,” Sticky said. He scratched his head. “Strange, these are all dated from the future. One’s from next week, one’s from the week after, and so on for months — even years!”
“They’re planned press releases,” Reynie said, coming over to flip through the pile. “Articles Mr. Curtain intends to have printed in the newspapers. And they all have something to do with him. Look at the headline on this one from next week: ‘ESTEEMED SCIENTIST AND EDUCATOR APPOINTED TO IMPORTANT POST.’”
Sticky groaned and took off his spectacles. “Will you read it aloud, Reynie? I’m afraid I need to polish these.”
And so Reynie read aloud:
LEDROPTHA CURTAIN, the recently named Minister And Secretary of all The Earth’s Regions (M.A.S.T.E.R.), had this to say about his new role: “The governments of the world have established my position as that of an advisor and coordinator in this time of crisis. Being a private man, I accept the honor reluctantly, believing it my duty.”
“That’s preposterous!” Kate said. “There’s no such position!”
“Apparently there will be. It says here that the governments have finally reorganized themselves in response to the Emergency.”
Sticky spluttered. “But the Emergency is made up — it’s something Mr. Curtain created! I can’t believe every single —”
“That’s it!” Reynie cried, staring intently at the paper. He felt a wave of relief, quickly followed by alarm — as if he’d finally succeeded in translating hieroglyphics only to discover he’d translated a curse.
“What’s it, Reynie?” asked Kate.
“The Emergency is the first step,” Reynie said, thumping the paper. “Mr. Curtain thinks fear is the most important element in human personality, remember? It’s why the Whisperer has so much appeal to Messengers — it soothes their fears, and Mr. Curtain uses that to motivate them. So what if he created a fear, a fear everyone would hold in common, a fear the entire public would share?”
“The fear that everything is hopelessly out of control,” Kate said.
“Exactly! Then his next step would be to soothe that fear with just the right message. The Messengers all love the Whisperer with a passion, right? Well, Mr. Curtain intends to make it so that everyone in the world will feel the way Messengers do!”
“Everyone will love the Whisperer?” Sticky said.
“No,” Reynie said. “Everyone will love him.”
Reynie was putting it all together now. “So those journal entries — the places where he seemed to be talking to himself — ‘Trust Ledroptha Curtain’ and all that. They were rough drafts!”
“He’s working on his new message,” Sticky said, finally understanding.
Kate couldn’t help but laugh. “You mean ‘Ledroptha Curtain Stops the Hurtin’ was an idea for a hidden message? That’s so lame!”
Reynie handed another press release to Kate. “Look at this one: ‘CURTAIN BEST MAN TO HANDLE BAFFLING AMNESIA EPIDEMIC.’”
“An amnesia epidemic?” Sticky said.
Kate had moved down the table to rifle through a stack of pamphlets, shaking her head in disgust. “And here’s how he intends to pull it off.” She handed each boy a pamphlet. Reluctantly Sticky put his glasses back on, and in grim silence they all read the pamphlet. It was an official advisory from something called the Public Health Administration:
Just what is Sudden Amnesia Disease (SAD)? SAD is an extremely contagious disease that causes total memory loss in those who contract it.
What’s being done about it? Although the origin and cure of this disease have yet to be found, they’re being investigated by a group of experts headed by none other than Ledroptha Curtain, the highly regarded scientist and our newly named Minister And Secretary of all The Earth’s Regions. SAD cases are admitted for free care at the Amnesia Sanctuary on Nomansan Island, a state-of-the-art facility where patients live comfortably, under strict quarantine, while the cure for their disease is sought.
Am I a SAD case? Are my neighbors? A common first symptom of SAD is the belief that one hears children’s voices in one’s head. The onset of this symptom is most sudden, and once it has begun, it persists without interruption until amnesia sets in.
Reynie flipped to the next page, which showed a picture of two smiling Recruiters. They had their hands on the shoulders of Jackson the Executive, who was trying his best to look miserable and happy at the same time. The photo caption read: “Already feeling better! A SAD case jokes around with our friendly doctors.”
Sticky had finished the pamphlet and hurried to the other table. “There are more over here, printed in dozens of languages!”
“I can’t believe it,” Kate said. “It doesn’t make sense.”
For Reynie it all made too much sense. The last piece of the puzzle had fallen into place. “This whole thing,” he said bleakly, “the Helpers, the Recruiters, the Messengers — the entire Institute — it’s all been one big experiment to make sure his plan can work. Mr. Curtain has been practicing. The Institute will become the Amnesia Sanctuary — he needs a place to put all the people who resist him!”
“People like us,” said Kate.
“People including us,” said Sticky.
Know Thine Enemy
I still say it makes no sense,” Kate said. “It can’t really happen, can it? He intends to brainsweep everyone who resists him? Doesn’t he have to put them in his Whisperer to do that? What about people in other countries?”
Sticky waved a handful of pamphlets. “He has Sanctuaries set up all over the world. The maps on the back show their locations.”
Kate humphed, then frowned curiously. She had just noticed the edge of a doorframe behind the folded tables leaning against the wall.
“It is hard to understand how he’ll manage it, though,” Reynie said. “Sticky, remember when he told us the Whisperer was going to be a ‘healing device’ that would bring peace to thousands of troubled minds?”