It had all been a joke before. What Frances really meant was that Masha was odd, alternative, intense, excessively tall and exotic and different in every way from Frances. She hadn’t truly questioned Masha’s state of mind. Part of her had wondered if Masha was a genius. Didn’t all geniuses seem mad to mere mortals?
Even the drugs hadn’t truly concerned her. The fact was that if Masha had asked, ‘Would you like to try this smoothie laced with LSD?’ Frances might have said, ‘Sure, why not?’ She would have been impressed by all the talk about ‘research’, comforted by Yao’s background as a paramedic and intrigued by the possibility of a transcendent experience, and she would have been especially susceptible if someone else had said yes first. (As a teenager, her mother had once said to her, ‘If all your friends jumped off a cliff, would you jump too?’ Frances had answered, without guile, ‘Of course.’)
But now, sitting here in the dark, watching Masha’s image on the screen, it was clear: Masha was not quite right. Her green eyes shone with an evangelical fervour that would not respond to logic or sense.
‘Congratulations to all of you!’ she said. ‘I am so pleased with your progress. You have all come so far from day one!’ She clasped her hands together like an actress accepting an Oscar. ‘Your journeys are nearly complete.’
The screen lit up the room in ghostly patches of light so that Frances could see everyone’s faces as they all stared up at Masha.
‘You need to let us out of here!’ shouted Jessica.
‘Can she hear us?’ asked Carmel uncertainly.
‘No need to shout, Jessica. Hello there, Carmel. I can see you, I can hear you,’ said Masha. ‘The magic of technology. Isn’t it amazing!’
Her eyes looked off-centre at the camera. It made it easier not to succumb to her madness.
‘I was so happy when you solved the escape puzzle and found the matryoshka,’ said Masha.
‘But we didn’t solve it!’ said Frances. She was personally offended by this. ‘We’re still here. There was no damned code in the doll.’
‘Exactly,’ said Masha. ‘Exactly.’
‘What?’ said Frances.
‘You worked as a team, though not quite to the extent I’d hoped. I assumed you would build a human pyramid to reach the doll – all of you! – rather than playing football.’ Her lip lifted in a sneer on the word ‘football’. Frances felt defensive of Tony.
‘When I was at school in Serov, many years ago, we made a human pyramid that was quite remarkable, I have never forgotten it.’ Her eyes lost their focus, and then she snapped back. ‘Anyway, that does not matter, you got there in the end, you found the doll and here we are.’
‘The doll told us nothing,’ said Jessica. ‘It was empty.’
‘That’s right, Jessica,’ said Masha patiently, as if to a small child who does not understand the way the world works.
‘She’s not making any sense,’ muttered Ben.
‘What I’d find truly transformative right now is a long hot shower,’ said Lars. He smiled up at Masha with the full force of his gorgeous face. It was like he was holding a glowing lightsaber up to the screen. Frances would bet that smile had opened many doors before.
But not this one. Masha just smiled back. It was an epic battle of beauty and charisma.
Lars held on for as long as he could before he surrendered. His smile vanished. ‘For God’s sake, I just want to get out of here, Masha.’
‘Ah, Lars,’ said Masha. ‘You need to remember what Buddha said: “Nothing is forever except change.”’
‘This already feels like forever, Masha.’
Masha chuckled. ‘I know you like your solitude, Lars. It is hard to find yourself having to interact with strangers all day long, yes?’
‘Everyone is very nice,’ said Lars. ‘That’s not really the point.’
‘We just want to go back to our rooms,’ said Heather. She sounded quite meek and reasonable. ‘The psychedelic therapy was wonderful, thank you, but –’
‘It was wonderful, was it? You have changed your tune then, Heather!’ A fine thread of aggression ran through Masha’s words. ‘I hope you speak from the heart. I heard talk of reporting me to the police! I must confess that was hurtful to me.’
‘I was upset,’ said Heather. ‘As you know, today is the anniversary of my son’s death. I wasn’t thinking straight. Now I understand.’ She looked up at the screen with what appeared to be complete acquiescence. It was inspiring to see. ‘We all understand,’ continued Heather. ‘We’re so grateful for what you’ve done for us. We would never have had this opportunity in our normal lives. But now we’d just like to go back to our rooms and enjoy the rest of the retreat.’
Frances tried to put herself in Masha’s position. It came to her that Masha considered herself an artist and, like any artist, she craved praise. She simply wanted recognition, respect, five-star reviews, gratitude.
‘I think I speak for all of us when I say this has been an incredible experience,’ she began.
But she was interrupted by Tony.
‘Is that Yao behind you?’ He was on his feet, his eyes on the screen. ‘Is he alright?’
‘Yao is here, yes,’ said Masha.
She moved to one side of her computer screen and gestured graciously like a model on a game indicating the prize.
The prize was Yao.
He was slumped forward in Masha’s chair, asleep or unconscious on Masha’s desk, one cheek squashed flat, while his arms formed a semicircle around his head.
‘Is he breathing? What’s wrong with him?’ Heather also stood and moved to a position beneath the television screen. She dropped the fake acquiescent tone. ‘What has he taken? What have you given him?’
‘Is he alive?’ asked Frances in panic.
‘He is just napping,’ said Masha. ‘He is so tired. He has been up all night, working hard for you!’
She caressed Yao’s hair, and pointed at something they couldn’t see on his scalp.
‘That is Yao’s birthmark. I saw it during my near-death experience.’ She smiled back at the camera and Frances shivered. ‘That is when I came face to face with my own mortality in the most remarkable and wonderful way.’ Her eyes shone. ‘This evening, you too will face your mortality. Sadly, I can’t give you the privilege of looking death directly in the eyes, but I can give you a glance, a glimpse! An unforgettable glimpse that will . . .’ She searched for the right word and found it with obvious satisfaction. ‘That will amalgamate all of your experiences so far: the silence, the psychedelic therapy, the escape puzzle.’
‘He doesn’t look like he’s napping,’ said Heather. ‘Have you given him something?’
‘Ah, Heather,’ said Masha. ‘You are practically a doctor, aren’t you? But I can assure you, Yao is simply napping!’
‘Where is Delilah?’ asked Ben.
‘Delilah is no longer with us,’ said Masha.
‘What do you mean “no longer with us”?’ said Ben. ‘What does that mean?’
‘She has left us,’ said Masha airily.
‘Of her own accord?’ asked Frances.
She thought about the other Tranquillum House staff: the lovely smiley chef who brought out the food; Jan, with her miraculous healing hands. Where were they, while the guests were locked up and Yao lay unconscious on Masha’s desk?
‘I need you all to listen carefully,’ said Masha, ignoring Frances’s question about Delilah. She moved to the front of the camera again so that Yao’s body was concealed. ‘We are now going to play a fun icebreaker!’
‘I feel like the ice is well and truly broken, Masha,’ said Lars.
‘Buddha said that we must “radiate boundless love towards the entire world”, and that’s what this exercise is all about. It’s about love. It’s about passion. It’s about getting to know each other,’ said Masha. ‘I call it: “Death Sentence!”’
She looked at them expectantly, as if waiting for an enthusiastic eruption of questions and comments.
Nobody moved.
‘You like the name?’ said Masha, lowering her head and lifting her eyes in a way that could almost be considered flirtatious.
‘I do not like the name,’ said Napoleon.