by Eliza Green
Jason stepped back when Max pushed him out of the way and started firing the stored energy from the Disruptor at the hole in the wolf’s side. The gun shuddered in his hand as it absorbed the new power.
The wolf collapsed to the floor.
‘Hurry. I’ve only temporarily disabled it. We don’t have much time.’
Max yanked on the wolf’s paw, straining against the weight of the machine. Jason grabbed a metal leg as the others arrived to help, and together they dragged it over to the elevator.
‘The paw contains the command to operate the elevator,’ said Max. ‘I saw it press it against the plate and the doors opened.’
Preston scanned the wolf and checked his screen. ‘It won’t be out for much longer. Better hurry.’
‘Jason, help me.’
Max lifted up the paw while Jason pressed it against the plate.
The door opened.
‘Get in.’
Max produced a brushed-metal card from his pocket and touched it to the silver panel inside the elevator.
Jason stared down at the card.
‘A gift from Charlie.’
The elevator started to move.
50
An hour’s break between tests had given Anya too much time to think. She observed Yasmin and Sheila chatting and smiling in one corner of the dining hall. Even Warren was smiling, although his heart seemed only half in it.
Good.
She wasn’t ready to hear his excuses.
Supervisor Two appeared at the door and they followed her back into the main room. While she reconnected the others, Anya waited with June, Sheila, Yasmin and Dom, while one of the boys from floor six sat alone in his chair. He seemed intimidated by their group.
‘Problem-solving was never my strength,’ said Yasmin, biting the skin around her nail. She looked around, checking for the supervisor.
Sheila patted her hand. ‘Just pick the answer that seems right.’
‘But there are so many variables.’
‘Ignore the variables,’ said Sheila. ‘There has to be a right or wrong answer.’
But Yasmin was on to something. There were too many variables. Anya had already discovered that answering the question with a black or white response meant little to the outcome of the tests. The tests weren’t about competition, but she hadn’t yet figured out their purpose.
Dom was looking at her. ‘What are you thinking about?’
A casual enough question, had it not been for his sharp and insistent tone.
She pulled him away from the others. ‘How did you answer the question about the rebels?’
‘What question?’
‘The one about the rebels’ actions and if they concerned me?’
Dom shook his head slowly. ‘I didn’t get that question.’
‘So why did I?’
‘They want to know what side you’re on. They must know I’m not supposed to be here.’ He rubbed the back of his neck, agitated. ‘I won’t let anything happen to you, Anya.’
She touched his arm. ‘What does it matter to them if you are? You can’t escape. You’re no threat to them, this far in.’
But he wasn’t listening to her.
‘Jesus, this is a mistake,’ he whispered. ‘They know about me, they know about Sheila, June—’
She frowned. ‘You’re not the threat, Dom. Arcis... the Collective has you where it wants you. It’s concerned about the others. The ones who are coming for us.’
Dom made no reply. His wide eyes said it all.
‘Oh, God.’ said Anya. ‘Tell them to abandon. It’s a trap. I couldn’t bear it. Jason...’
Dom’s focus sharpened. He gripped her arms. ‘I’ll try, but it might be too late. They might already be here.’
Anya opened her mouth to say something, anything to calm the storm in Dom’s eyes. But before she could reply, Supervisor Two crossed the room. Anya slid into her chair and dug her fingers into the white leather. The supervisor attached the metal discs as before.
‘The test format in this round is the same,’ the female supervisor said. ‘Answer the questions honestly, as before.’
A new feeling of dread washed over her. She glanced at Dom. The intense look on his face frightened her. She knew so little about him, where he came from, what really made him laugh.
What if they were too late? What if the others had already been captured?
Dom would send a warning. It would be okay.
The screen flickered to life like an old television.
The first question appeared and Anya almost laughed at the absurdity of it.
‘Yellow or red?’
She reminded herself this was a test. For Quintus? She’d heard the supervisor talking to him.
Back to the question. Her bedroom walls at home in Brookfield were painted primrose; Grace’s favourite. She pressed the blue button and thought her answer.
Red.
‘Do you like quiet or noise?’
The thumping music on the fifth floor came to mind.
Quiet.
‘Do you prefer manual labour to intellectual stimulation?’
On the ground floor, she had been happy to push a mop around, to bury the memories of the outside. Sport was an addiction; to never do it again would be like giving up breathing. But her experiences in Arcis had taught her an important truth: physical strength was nothing without a strong mind.
Intellectual stimulation.
Anya couldn’t shake the feeling that the question, while innocent enough, had a deeper meaning to someone. To Quintus.
‘Would you rather live in a house or an apartment?’
Brookfield only had bungalows and houses. East Essention had prison-block apartments.
House.
Two faces popped up and her breath caught in her throat.
One was Jason, the other was Dom.
‘Please state your preference.’
She exhaled sharply.
Both.
‘Pick one.’
She reminded herself there was no right or wrong answer.
Dom.
‘If one had to die, whom would you kill?’
She gasped and touched her fingers to her lips. She had prepared for another shocking scenario, but not one involving people she loved. She felt Dom’s gaze on her, but couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She closed her eyes and swallowed. Was he looking at a similar photo of her and Sheila?
She shook her head. She wouldn’t play into Quintus’ hands.
Neither.
‘But if you have to kill one.’
I would sacrifice myself.
‘That’s not an option. You must kill one of these people. Choose one to kill and one to save.’
I won’t choose. I would rather die.
‘You are under mind control. Whom would you kill?’
Neither. I’d shoot myself in the head. I can’t kill someone if I’m dead, can I?
The screen went black. There were no more prompts, no more questions. Dom’s screen was still active. He stared hard at something, his fingers curled deep into the white leather. Anya moved her head to look.
She swallowed back bile when she saw two pictures: one of her and the other of Sheila.
Dom’s eyes never left the screen.
The lights flickered overhead and Anya concentrated on the ceiling for a moment. Dom’s screen went blank. He’d chosen someone.
Something flickered on Anya’s screen: a message.
The female supervisor walked along their row and Anya read the message with a heavy heart.
‘We’re inside. Stay safe. Jason.’
The message disappeared just as the supervisor stopped beside Anya. She disconnected the discs from Anya’s skin.
‘The first five people on this side of the room have made it to the next level.’
Everyone in Anya’s row, except the boy from the sixth floor.
‘The rest of you will take the test again.’
Jerome punche
d his chair. Warren folded his arms.
Anya wanted to tell them—even Warren—that there was no prize at the end of it. It wasn’t a competition. They were being catalogued. She had no idea why.
She swung her legs to the side and stood up. Dom’s shaken appearance surprised her. She grabbed his hand and smiled at him.
‘We’re almost out,’ she said.
He smiled weakly at her, then looked away.
They’d done enough to progress.
She hoped Jason and the others were okay.
51
The doors had opened too early. This wasn’t the ninth floor. If Jason was to hazard a guess, they were somewhere at the midway point. Their group met no resistance as they stepped out of the elevator into a changing room.
‘Maybe Charlie’s card only gave us clearance for the first few floors,’ said Jason.
‘It did,’ said Max. ‘But this is the floor I wanted.’ He nodded to the gun in Jason’s hand. ‘We need more weapons.’
Jason looked at the empty-handed soldiers, then at his moulded-plastic Atomiser, with its inbuilt magnetic field to contain antimatter.
‘If you see another wolf, aim your weapon at the side of the body, near the heart, as before. It will work on the Copies, too.’
‘The ones that look like us?’
‘Yes,’ said Max, with a grim smile.
Jason shivered and glanced at Preston. But he was too busy looking at the screen to notice.
‘There,’ said Preston suddenly, pointing to a door. ‘The energy spikes in the next room.’
They followed Max into a room with a large black unit and an array of identical blue-veined guns.
‘Pavesi said there was an arsenal on the fifth floor, and here it is.’
Jason walked up to one of the recesses. He brushed his fingers lightly over the cold, black surround. He picked up one of the guns and weighed it in comparison to the Atomiser. It was lightweight, and he felt a slight vibration running through it, as though the gun was primed for firing.
‘Take what you can carry,’ said Max to the soldiers. ‘They’re Electro Guns. They deliver mid-level blasts of electricity. Pavesi and Kouris said they used them only a few days ago.’
Jason’s head snapped up. ‘Why were they using them? For what purpose?’
A chill ran through his veins as he remembered Anya being hospitalised after her electric shock.
‘Some kind of game,’ said Max. ‘Nothing lethal. Just stings like hell.’
Jason gritted his teeth. He had to keep a cool head, to believe Anya was still in one piece. She was strong. She could handle herself... But she was so fragile when he’d left her.
The soldiers carried two guns apiece and tucked two extras into their combat waistbands.
‘So what now?’ said Jason. ‘Do we try the elevator again?’
Max shook his head. ‘Charlie’s card won’t work. The floors higher up run on separate codes, and the ones closest to the ninth floor each have individual encryptions. I’m not even sure they use cards. The Copies could have sole control over those.’
‘So, we’re trapped on the fifth floor?’
Max shook his head. ‘Preston is going to hack their system and you’ll help him. But not here.’
He pointed to another door. ‘If we’re to access the ninth, we need to do it from the second tower. It will take longer, but it should be a safer route. They’ll be expecting us to hit them from the elevator. There’s a stairwell at the back that will give us access to some of the floors. After that, we’ll have to use a little brute force.’
Preston cursed at something on the screen. ‘They’ve just rotated to the eighth floor. I’m seeing a hefty usage of power.’
‘The elevator, now,’ growled Max, and took off.
Jason and the others followed him back to the changing room.
‘If the power’s down,’ said Max, ‘then they’re blind.’ He pointed to the control panel that called the elevator. ‘See if you two can bypass the commands before the system comes back online. We may be able to sneak up a couple of floors.’
Jason took charge of the screen as Preston started to unscrew the panel. ‘And if we can’t?’
‘Then we’ll use the stairwell, stay off the grid for as long as possible.’
52
The elevator door opened. The eighth floor. Anya heard proper music. Not the brain-scrambling nonsense of the fifth floor; something soothing and peaceful, like the music on the third. A familiar, soft tone.
She allowed herself a small smile. Maybe this floor wouldn’t be so bad.
Anya relaxed her hand in Dom’s as she prepared to leave the elevator. He bent his head and spoke close to her ear.
‘Keep that guard up. Don’t be drawn in by their lies.’
Anya stood up straighter and tightened her grip.
They waited in another changing room; identical to the others except for the music.
What was that tune? Soft and melodic. Non-lyrical. Comforting.
It sounded like something her mother used to sing to her when she was a child; over and over until she fell asleep.
A door opened and Supervisor Two walked in. She looked like the woman from the seventh—thin, sharp, cold eyes—but she wore a grey uniform with a purple collar; not black with gold.
Anya looked more closely. There were other differences: this version’s eyes were slightly sharper, the mouth a little thinner.
She loosened her grip. Dom squeezed her hand as a reminder.
The frantic disorganisation of the previous two floors was absent here. It was as if the rebels storming Arcis were no longer a threat. Anya swallowed back tears as she thought of Jason. Was he with them? Was he safe?
The supervisor listened to a command in her ear. From Quintus?
They waited, just five of them, and Anya wondered if Jerome was going through the tests again on the seventh floor. She even wondered about Warren. Would they rotate this time round?
Supervisor Two spoke quickly to a voice Anya couldn’t hear. ‘No more...We have enough... I think that would be wise, Quintus... I have the code. Yes. Okay.’
She stepped past them, entered the elevator and placed her hand on the flat plate beside the control panel. She punched in some numbers. The elevator jerked and went silent. She had locked it in place.
Anya glanced at Dom. He searched the room for the cameras. She’d once thought he just had a fascination for walls.
‘Follow me,’ said the supervisor. She guided them to the door that led out of the changing room. Sheila and Yasmin walked side by side. June kept close to Anya and Dom.
The music accompanied them as they entered the next room. It was some kind of storage area. Stacks of sealed brown and white boxes lined the walls. There were some open boxes on the floor but the flaps were pressed down and Anya couldn’t see what they contained.
The music paused as they crossed the walkway. Anya looked down, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jason, to see that he was alright. But her head swam and she stopped were she was. She gripped the handrail waiting for the dizziness to subside. She must have moved the wrong way because Dom slipped his arms around her waist to steady her.
‘Slow steps,’ he said, pulling her tight to him. ‘Are you okay?’
She nodded. ‘We’re high up.’
He helped her across the walkway, keeping his arm around her.
The music started again as soon as they entered Tower B. Except this time it was louder, more invasive, as if its function was to mask the other sound: crying babies.
Anya glanced at Dom. He looked at her, then back at the room.
Again, the music reminded her of Grace’s lullaby.
How could that be?
‘I think I know that song,’ said Anya.
Dom looked ahead. ‘My mother used to sing it to me. Many mothers in the towns did.’
‘Where did they learn it from?’
Dom flashed a dark look at her. ‘Where do you think?’ His fingers
, still around her waist, curled deeper into her side.
Of course. His mother.
She had come through this place. Had she sung it in here? Had they asked her what the song was? Had they stolen it from her mind on the last floor?
Anya removed Dom’s arm but kept hold of his hand as she looked around.
Ahead of them was the all-too-familiar hangar-sized room. The walls had been painted bright yellow, like her room in Brookfield. The room was divided in half by a red velvet curtain attached to the ceiling, its ends trailing on the floor. Large ball-shaped lights hung from the ceiling, attached by thick wires, their light diffused through frosted-glass covers. The floor, a white tile, was partially covered by red and yellow rugs which all looked new, their pile still soft and springy.
She caught a strong odour of freshly cut freesias. Her nose tingled at the peppery irritation.
But she saw no fresh flowers in the room.
Something stranger than a bouquet without flowers caught her eye. In the centre was a room within the room; a square box with transparent walls and a dozen cribs inside.
The crying became more insistent. It was both disturbing and unfamiliar to her. As the youngest in her family, Anya had never been around babies before.
June walked into the sub-room without hesitation. She picked up one of the babies and started to pat its back. Anya wondered if she had helped to raise her younger sister.
Dom let go of Anya’s hand and followed June.
Inside, he picked up a different baby without pause and soothed it with a quiet hushing sound. He looked out of place in his black combats and black T-shirt, holding a baby that seemed so small in his arms. Yet, he was a natural.
The female supervisor stood stiffly outside the box, looking in. She focused on June, assessing her clinically.
Keen to draw the supervisor’s interest in June away, Anya stepped into her line of sight. The supervisor snapped her gaze to her, then away.
Sheila and Yasmin waited with Anya outside the sub-room. The supervisor moved to the open side of the box so they could all hear her.
‘You will nurture these babies,’ she said, her voice rising to match the insistent crying. ‘We wish to observe you in these surroundings, to see how you interact with these creatures.’
