by Eliza Green
Thomas was two years older than Jason with studious eyes and soft, boyish looks that made him look younger and more vulnerable than the battle-scarred soldiers of the same age. Jason worried about the gentle boy, who seemed out of place in this battle.
Thomas had placed his shoes and socks neatly beside him. Bare feet on grass helped him think, he’d said. He looked up as Jason approached.
‘Max gave me the paper. I find it easier to visualise something when I see it planned out.’
Jason folded himself on the ground beside Thomas, his eyes skimming over the pages that charted the sequence of events: how long the participants in Arcis spent on each floor before they were rotated, and when their soldiers had reported dips in the lights.
Jason preferred tech to paper so he could change variables fast, if necessary. But Thomas liked to jot down his thoughts. With screens in short supply in Foxrush, they had to use what they had. The towns had differed to Praesidium in one major way: technology. Before the talk of rebel activity, his class used to take regular trips to Praesidium where screens and terminals pretty much ruled the city.
‘There’s not much to go on,’ said Jason with a sigh.
The lack of information about the inner workings of Arcis continued to frustrate him.
They’d been able to get only snippets from the soldiers inside Arcis, when the force field was weak enough to receive a strong, masked signal. But if they could maintain a steady connection through the fully operational force field...
‘Max said the pattern was much more predictable in the beginning.’ Thomas scooted closer to the papers. He pointed to the first page with his pencil.
‘According to our people, rotation on the ground floor occurred in twenty-eight days.’ He pointed to the second page, which showed movements from the first floor. ‘Here, they rotated in exactly thirty days.’
The third page had details about the second floor. ‘Twenty-five days here.’
Thomas tapped his finger on the fourth page, leaving behind a smudge of graphite.
‘This is where things changed. They rotated in twenty-four hours on the third floor. Preston said they just called it in.’ He paused, his eyebrows drawn forward. ‘He also said that some participants skipped certain floors. Why?’
‘Too predictable?’ It was meant as a private thought, but the look on Thomas’ face forced Jason to sit up straight. ‘What did I say?’
Thomas tapped the first four pages consecutively with his pencil. ‘Twenty-eight days, thirty days, twenty-five days, twenty-four hours.’ He lifted his brows at Jason.
‘They know we’re trying to get in?’ said Jason. When Thomas didn’t react, he added, ‘I’m wrong.’
Thomas flashed him a smile. ‘I never said that.’
He tapped the fifth page, which related to the fourth floor.
‘What happens here will tell us a lot. Maybe the twenty-four-hours thing was just a fluke. We’ll know more when they rotate again. Our insider says the lights always flicker right before rotation. But that’s too late—we can’t use this flicker as a marker because the force field returns to full strength almost straight away. We need something else to get us inside.’
Predicting the energy pattern was their best shot of getting into Arcis undetected. But Jason needed more data if he and Thomas were to pinpoint exactly when the force field was at its weakest. If Preston could get the frequency codes for the force field he could modify the signal-booster, and the soldiers in Arcis might provide better detail that would allow Foxrush to prepare.
Thomas fell quiet as he studied the pages.
‘How did you end up here?’ Jason asked. ‘How did Preston?’
Thomas looked up at him. ‘I’m originally from Foxrush. I was already here when the rebels came to set up camp. I had designed and built a trapdoor in the old grain house. It’s being used for accommodation now. I hid there for days without food and water while Praesidium took the young and killed some adults.’
He spoke bitterly at first, as if a memory had caught in his throat. But then he laughed.
‘I scared the crap out of Preston when I popped up while he was sleeping. Preston was part of the rebel group that came to Foxrush. He said he didn’t care what side he fought on as long as he never had to live in a place like Essention.’
‘It never felt like prison,’ said Jason.
‘Preston values his freedom. Thinks any kind of menial labour is torture. He loves his electronic equipment. You’ve seen it, right? Mrs Jenkins’ old house? She and her husband didn’t make it. Charlie and Max secured this place, waited for Praesidium to come a second time, and pretended to be sick like the townspeople.’
‘They wanted to be captured?’
Thomas nodded.
‘And the people there didn’t tell on them?’
‘They were too sick to care. Charlie and Max entered Essention together acting sick and feeble, and hoped that Essention would see them as such.’
‘What’s Max’s story?’
‘What do you mean?’
Jason shifted position. ‘How did his wife end up in Arcis? How long ago was it?’
‘Uh, about six months, I think. When Essention was first built, they put out a notice, said they were looking for people to test their new technology.’
Jason had tried to get in at the time. ‘What were they showcasing exactly?’
Thomas shrugged. ‘Probably nothing. Max never knew. His wife had been going to Arcis secretly. Some confidentiality clause, Max thinks. Arcis may have paid them well for their silence.’
‘How did Max avoid the place?’
‘His wife and others from his town disappeared for a few hours each evening. But one evening, they didn’t return home. Max and a group tracked them to Essention. Two Copies found them loitering outside Arcis, asked them if they wanted to see the latest Praesidium tech. The others went inside, but Max chose to stay outside. He said something felt off about the place. A force field erected itself around Arcis right before his eyes. Max tried to get in but couldn’t. The Copies said it was a glitch that would be fixed by morning.’
Jason leaned in. ‘So what did he do?’
‘He headed home. By morning, his group still hadn’t returned. He went back to find guns lining Essention’s perimeter wall.’
Jason shuddered. Why had he been so quick to believe the urbano, protected by disintegration guns of all things, was a peaceful place?
‘Have you ever seen a Copy? I mean, up close?’
Thomas nodded and gave a little shiver. ‘In Praesidium. They are copied in the human image, but they’re different, colder in attitude. They give me the creeps. The Copies call the humans who live in Praesidium “Originals”. The machines use Copies in an attempt to relate to us, or some other bullshit.’ He lowered his voice to an almost-whisper. ‘You’ve heard of matching, right?’
Jason nodded as a cold sensation crept up his spine.
‘That’s a thing the towns made up to keep Praesidium off their backs, you know.’
‘What about it?’
‘It has something to do with the Copies. I don’t know what.’
His mother had nearly driven Anya away with constant talk of matching her with a boy from the town. What did Praesidium have to do with it?
He needed time alone to think. ‘I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later.’ Jason climbed to his feet and Thomas went back to studying the pages.
As he walked away, Jason wondered what his parents would have made of Foxrush, filled with the rebels they had fought to protect him and Anya from. But, Max had said the rebels hadn’t killed his parents. So who had?
Jason stopped at the house with the flat roof and climbed the stairs to the first floor. The living room seemed smaller, with three boys huddled around Preston’s collection of communication equipment.
Through the open window he saw a couple of gun-toting spotters on the roof. To their left was a homemade satellite dish made from a wheel hub and a long antenna P
reston was using to boost his signal. The dish was as close to Essention as it could get. They couldn’t risk its discovery by positioning it beyond Foxrush.
Preston didn’t look up, even when Jason leaned against the doorframe.
‘What if you try that there, or this here?’ One of the boys pointed to an open transistor box.
Preston sat with his head in his hands. ‘I’ve already tried that. It doesn’t work.’
Jason waited for one of them to see him. Preston finally noticed.
‘I relayed the message about the changing frequency codes when one of the soldiers called in about rotation.’ He shook his head. ‘I didn’t get a reply. I’m not even sure if he got the message. We’ll have to wait and see.’
Jason nodded, disappointed it wasn’t more. ‘It’s a start.’
When Preston started to argue with one of the boys, Jason left.
He needed to do something, anything. He came across the tent with the camouflage gear and found no soldiers manning it. A pile of knotted ropes lay on the ground. Jason unknotted it and coiled it neatly so it would be useful again.
Max walked past, and did a double take.
‘When I asked you to help, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. Anything new on the energy fluctuations?’
Jason shook his head. ‘Preston thinks he got the message through about the frequency though.’
‘That’s good.’ Max hooked a finger at him. Jason dropped the rope on the ground.
He followed Max inside the main tent.
‘Preston is the best comms guy we have. He’s a little prickly, sees everything in black and white, but he’s a smart guy. And with your help, we’ll get there. We need to take it slow. I don’t want to tip our hand to Arcis that we have people on the inside.’
A comms radio crackled on the table. Max perched on the edge of the table and picked it up.
‘We’ve seen an object flying near the edge of the forest,’ the voice said. ‘Could just be a bird.’
‘Keep an eye on it. Let me know if it gets closer.’ Max pressed a button and the crackling stopped.
Keeping hold of the radio, he folded his arms across his broad chest. ‘You seem anxious about something.’
Jason copied Max’s stance. ‘How many floors must Anya complete before we move on Arcis?’
‘As many as it takes to figure out the energy pattern.’
‘And what if we never figure it out?’
Max’s gaze turned to ice and steel. ‘Then we have a problem. I won’t send anyone in blind. Not again.’
‘Thomas told me what happened with your wife. If Anya and the others are in danger, we can’t wait.’
Max clenched his jaw and muttered, ‘That boy talks too much.’ He glared at Jason. ‘We’ll go when I say and not before. I need you to help Preston and Thomas, get as much information as we can get before we move.’
Jason didn’t respond. His silence appeared to make Max nervous. ‘And if you’re thinking of going it alone, don’t. I’ll shoot you myself.’
The thought had crossed Jason’s mind. But if Charlie had collapsed the tunnel, he didn’t fancy his chances going through the main gate with Essention’s guns tracking him.
‘I wasn’t.’
Max continued to stare at Jason, then he softened his expression. ‘Thomas told me about your theory, about the unpredictable timings and the possibility they’re not flukes.’
Jason wished he had more. ‘Less than a theory. More like a wild guess.’
‘Still, predictability is what machines do well. What effort must it take to change a predetermined schedule if you’re used to predictability and parameters? I want you and Thomas to look at how the machines might be using this change in schedule to their advantage.’
He stood up and plucked a rolled-up map from a box on the ground. He opened it out on the table. It was covered with hand-drawn schematics. Jason stood beside Max and saw it was a map of Essention and Arcis. Arcis was sketched out as far as the third floor. The rest of the floors were blank.
‘Thomas drew this up for me. Our people in Arcis have been feeding back details about the layout. That’s as much as we have so far. How long they spend on the fourth floor will determine if the twenty-four-hour rotation was a fluke, or part of a more strategic decision on Arcis’ part.’
He tapped on the schematics of Essention, an urbano divided into eight equal sections.
‘Approximately ten thousand people live here, all from the border towns. Some are orphans, most are not. But they all have something in common—they can’t leave. Not voluntarily, anyway. What we are doing is for all of them, not just your sister.’
Anya was all Jason had left. He dropped his gaze to the map. ‘So how do we go back?’
‘Charlie is still making it look like we’re in the urbano. Getting back inside Essention will be the hardest part. We can’t carry weapons. No matter how well camouflaged we are, the scanners would pick them up as soon as they came back online. Once we’re back inside, we need to get in here.’ He stabbed a finger at Arcis’ ground floor. ‘This is where all the participants start. There are walkways connecting the two towers. And this elevator connects the nine floors.’
Max pointed to the second tower. ‘The majority of the programme operates out of here.’ He pointed to the empty dome at the top. ‘And this is the ninth floor. This is where the most energy is consumed. Whatever they have running there needs a lot of power.’
Jason focused on the incomplete drawing of the ninth floor. ‘How do we get past the force field?’
‘First we get back inside Essention, then we’ll work it out from there.’
‘Do you think Arcis knows what we’re planning?’
‘Possibly. But if we make our own movements unpredictable, they won’t know how to respond. I think the twenty-four-hour rotation was their way of upping the ante.’
One of the soldiers came rushing in, out of breath. ‘Sir, you need to come now. They’ve sent one of their scouts. They’re looking for us.’
‘Shit.’ Max bolted for the door. The soldier followed and Jason ran to catch up.
‘Scouts?’ said Jason.
‘Small, quick orbs,’ said the soldier. ‘Impossible to take down. When it’s close enough it will be able to scan us and send feedback to Arcis.’
Jason searched the sky for the orb as he ran. He finally spotted it, a short distance away: a tiny, shiny object hovering in the air. It was similar to the orbs that monitored the hospital in South, and the water purification system in North.
In the distance, Max yelled, ‘Shoot it down!’
35
The elevator doors opened and Anya’s feet somehow carried her into the fourth-floor changing room. Her mouth was dry and her throat was sore from yelling at Frank. His blood, dried in parts, clung to her clothes and hair like extra weight. She felt pressure on her left arm where Dom had wrapped the T-shirt too tight.
She barely noticed a woman waiting there, dressed in black trousers and a long black tunic with a band of gold around the collar. Anya squinted at her. She looked exactly like the woman from the hospital who’d chipped them when she and Jason had first arrived in Essention.
‘I’m Supervisor Two,’ said the woman. ‘Welcome to the fourth floor.’
Anya’s eyelids felt heavy. With grief or shock, she couldn’t tell anymore. The supervisor’s ice-blue eyes drew Anya in and held her there.
Dom gripped her elbow, breaking the spell she was under. Still angry with him, she looked elsewhere.
Supervisor Two turned to Dom. ‘You, medic. Take her to the infirmary. We can’t have her showing up in Tower B looking like that.’
The supervisor then called the elevator.
Anya resisted when Dom tried to move her, but a bout of dizziness caught her off guard, forcing her to lean into his side. She shuffled forward as if she were in someone else’s shoes.
The adjoining room, just before the walkway, contained three grey prefabricated cubicle
s. Dom guided Anya inside the first one.
The smell of antiseptic burned her nose. The prefab appeared to be a self-contained infirmary, with a medical bed, two chairs and a cabinet containing medicines, syringes and bandages. Dozens of green boxes with printed white crosses were stacked on the floor.
Dom eased Anya onto the bed, leaving her legs to dangle over the edge. She focused on a door on the back wall as Dom untied the torn piece of fabric around her injured arm. He rotated her arm and a new pain—previously hidden by the shock—tore through her.
She screamed and yanked her arm away.
‘Anya, please.’ Dom held her arm more firmly. ‘I need to check how far the cut goes. I’m going to have to disinfect it.’
She nodded, staring at her lap. His careful gaze felt like an added weight on her.
He checked the wound. As the numbness receded, a fresh sting ripped through her.
Dom released a shaky sigh. ‘It’s not as deep as I thought.’
He opened a brown bottle. Anya’s nose twitched as he upended some liquid over a piece of cotton wool.
‘Hold on to my arm. This is going to sting. If you need to dig your nails in, go right ahead.’
When Anya didn’t move, he guided her left hand and laid it over his forearm. She noticed for the first time he was wearing a light-blue T-shirt and black combats.
Something wet touched the cut and she hissed. Tiny pinpricks of pain tore at her resolve. She sucked in air and curled her fingers inwards. Dom’s bicep flexed.
‘Almost there,’ he said, through clenched teeth.
The pain eased, and Anya loosened her grip on Dom. He exhaled. She looked down at her left arm to see a long, angry welt. Tears pricked her eyes. She looked away.
This was nothing, compared to...
Frank was...
Oh, Frank. I’m so sorry.
Dom dressed the wound with gauze and linen.
She lifted her eyes to meet his. He looked exhausted, but his focus was completely on her. He watched her as though he expected her to break. The protective bubble that had kept her numb slipped a little.
