‘You want me to meet this person right now?’ said Ella.
Katherine looked amused. ‘Do make up your mind, my dear. I thought you were the one in a hurry?’
Professor Michael ‘Dix’ Dixon turned out to be a tiny gnome of a man, barely over five foot tall, with a mop of wiry gray hair, a pronounced stoop and a face so wrinkled it reminded Ella of the pickled walnuts that Grandmother Mimi used to preserve in jars back at the cabin. His tiny, jet-black eyes were set deep into the sockets, like two raisins pushed too far into the dough on a gingerbread man. He wore a thick, brushed cotton shirt and knitted waistcoat that made Ella sweat just to look at them, teamed with baggy corduroy slacks and a pair of immaculately polished brogues. And when he spoke it was with an upper-class British accent straight out of Downton Abbey.
‘Ella Praeger! As I live and breathe.’ He looked Ella up and down appraisingly as soon as she walked into his lab, from the outside a rather nondescript, breeze-block building with a row of square, high-set windows, but inside a gleaming example of technological innovation at its best. ‘We all thought you were a myth, my dear. An urban legend. But no! Here you are, in the flesh, and come to talk to me of all people. Well I’m honored, my dear. Honored.’ Turning to a group of technicians huddled over a computer screen in the corner, Professor Dixon scowled disapprovingly. ‘For heaven’s sake. Would one of you young hooligans get Miss Praeger a chair?’
Two young men leaped to attention, one of them scurrying over with a plastic seat for Ella, depositing it on the ground without making eye contact before darting back to the safety of the group.
‘A cup of tea, perhaps?’ Professor Dixon asked solicitously.
‘Thank you,’ Ella smiled. ‘That would be nice.’
It was impossible not to warm to this sweet, avuncular old man, especially as he appeared so enamored with her. ‘Sorry,’ Ella blushed, as her stomach growled audibly. ‘I haven’t eaten since breakfast.’
Clapping his hands imperiously in the direction of his junior lab partners, Professor Dixon demanded, ‘Tea and biscuits and cake, pronto! Honestly, I don’t know what’s wrong with these fools in operations,’ he said to Ella convivially. ‘I mean physical training’s all very well. But if I’ve told them once, I’ve told them a thousand times. An army can’t march on an empty stomach. Now then, Miss Ella Praeger. Where to begin? What, my dear, dear girl, can I do for you?’
For the first time, Ella felt her cynicism about Camp Hope starting to thaw at the edges. If this man had chosen to devote his life and talents to The Group, they simply couldn’t be all bad.
‘You obviously know who I am, Professor Dixon,’ she began tentatively. ‘I mean, my name was familiar to you?’
‘Well of course it was. It is.’ The old man nodded seriously. ‘The Praeger name means something to all of us here, Ella. May I call you Ella?’
‘Of course.’
‘Thank you,’ he beamed. ‘And you must call me Dix, everybody does.’
Ella nodded. ‘OK.’
‘All of us in The Group have been waiting for you for a long time, Ella. Scientifically speaking you’re … well, you’re unique.’
Ella took a deep breath. ‘Professor—’
‘Dix,’ he corrected her.
‘Dix. Sorry. How much do you know about the procedures performed on my brain before I was born?’
‘Well now, let’s see.’ He smiled encouragingly, rubbing his hands together as if Ella were a DIY project he couldn’t wait to get his hands on. ‘I suppose I know as much as anybody knows who wasn’t actually there at the time. I’ve seen all your medical notes, and the notes relating to your mother’s pregnancy. I was also lucky enough to inherit the genetic neurology papers that your parents were working on during their time here. So I’d say I have a fairly decent insight into what they were trying to achieve. As for how successful they were – the scope and limits of your powers today – well, that none of us will know fully until we start working together. That’s why it’s so incredibly exciting that you’re—’
‘Can you help me get rid of the headaches?’ Ella interrupted him.
Dix looked at her thoughtfully. It was telling, and sobering, that this was her first question. The poor girl must have suffered more than he’d realized.
‘I hope so,’ he answered seriously.
‘And what about … other things?’ Ella bit her lip anxiously. Dix waited for her to explain. ‘I’m not always very good with other people,’ she blushed. ‘Reading their emotions, or knowing what to say. I make mistakes.’
‘We all make mistakes,’ Dix said kindly. ‘I’m confident that together we can reduce some of your … uncertainty … in social situations.’ He was choosing his words carefully. ‘It can’t be easy, trying to interpret others, when you have a riot going on inside your own mind.’
‘It isn’t,’ said Ella, deeply grateful for the professor’s simple understanding.
‘Of course, changing the habits of a lifetime won’t happen overnight, any more than mastering your gifts will. You must be prepared to put in the work.’
‘Oh, I am,’ Ella insisted. ‘Believe me. I’ll do anything.’
‘Good.’ Dix smiled. ‘And I apologize for rabbiting on at you earlier. Letting my excitement run away with me, I’m afraid. We’ll be discovering an awful lot together in the coming days and weeks, Ella. But are there other questions that I can answer for you now?’
Ella thought about it. There were so many questions, it was hard to know exactly where to begin.