by T. C. Edge
“Yes, well, all Unenhanced have to wear this colour in Inner Haven. It shows status.”
“You’re going to Inner Haven again?!”
I nod, and fold up the dress once more, hiding it away in the box in case Mrs Carmichael should come wandering into the hall.
“I am. Tonight.”
“So lucky!”
I don’t answer. I scoop the box under my arm, and set my sights on the winding stairs once more.
“Nathan, do me a favour. Don’t tell anyone about the dress. Especially Mrs Carmichael…and Tess.”
He shrugs through an apparent lack of interest.
“Erm, sure. I won’t.”
Good. One less secret to worry about.
Truly, my world is a web of them now.
40
Blue used to be my favourite colour.
It was those hours spent in the eastern quarter, on the top of the warehouse, looking out over the distant mountains on clear days. That’s when I developed a particular fondness for it. When the sky was bright and clear, the mountains would be visible. I suppose I just associated the colour blue with freedom.
Now, however, that fondness is beginning to evaporate, and a new association is beginning to form. Blue now represents something more sinister: the slow, but steady weeding out of the Unenhanced, and their gradual slide towards total extinction.
I’m wearing the colour now, of course, and I’m looking at it too. I’m looking at what made me love it in the first place, and wearing the very reason I now loathe it.
I’m in perhaps the only place in the city that gives me peace. The very rooftop where I’ve spent so much time alone. The afternoon is growing late, and the sky is starting to fade and darken. Yet still, it’s light enough, and blue enough, to draw my eyes to the northwest, and the towering mountains that lie there.
I’ve been sitting here for some time now. Sitting in awe and quiet reflection. I’d slept through morning and straight past lunch, but woke with an urge inside me, an itch that needed to be scratched.
I needed to come here. I needed to see the city, and the lands beyond, with the new eyes I’ve been given. I needed to feel the sweep of wind on my face and gaze on the mountains that I’ve long wanted to visit.
All of it is clearer now, crisper. Like an old faded picture that’s been fully restored, its tiniest details brought back to life. I gaze upon the distant mountains and see them ten times more clearly than I have before.
Instead of blocks of blurred green littering the lower reaches of the hills, I now see individual trees. Instead of bands of dark blue, I see rivers and rushing water. Instead of dark grey and black smudges, I’m able to make out specific rock formations and craggy peaks. I even see a cave, what was once a tiny black dot to my eyes now visible as an entrance into the mountainside.
It will take me some time to get used to these eyes of mine. And some time to learn how to control them. Here, quiet and still, I’ve been able to peer as far as I can into the distance, and hold my gaze there. If I lose concentration, however, they quickly rush back and return to normal.
I never knew it would be like this. Several times in the past, Tess and I have wondered how Hawks actually used their eyes. We knew they could see great distances, but could never quite figure out how it worked.
In the end, we’d usually conclude that they merely saw ‘better’ than the rest of us, seeing several times further just like the birds of prey they’re named after. But now that I’ve experienced it first hand, I’ve realised that it’s so much more than that.
Not only is everything clearer and more detailed, and my natural ability to see further enhanced, but I can actually ‘zoom’ in with my eyes, as long as I focus long enough. I suppose it’s less zooming in, and more just focusing on a particular point, and letting the details of that point begin to form. If I turn suddenly to another point, far away in the distance, it’s not immediately clear. I need to wait for my eyes to adjust, take in the light, and then watch in glorious wonder as the world comes to life, so many miles away.
It’s a truly breathtaking experience.
However, I can’t linger too long on the roof. Checking my watch, I find that the clock is ticking by fast.
And I have a date to get to…
I can’t help but find the situation marginally amusing. My first date. Ever. And it’s with a Savant.
Hardly an ideal match for me.
With my dress hidden beneath my jacket and my head covered in my trusty cloak, I climb down from the warehouse roof and work my way towards the Conveyor Line. As I go, I pass by the site of the second attack by the Fanatics, still cordoned off and under investigation.
I shake my head as I pass. It’s all for show. I wonder what the people would feel if they knew the Consortium was behind it all? Would they riot? Would they rise up and join the Nameless? Or would they just roll over and let the Court do what they want.
Honestly, my faith has been somewhat shaken. I wouldn’t be surprised if they chose the latter.
I journey on, travelling the roads I’m so used to, and working my way around to the western quarter once again. This time, there’s no car to chauffeur me to the gate, no one to dress me up and do my makeup. That I’ve had to do on my own, with a little help from the secret stocks I found hidden under Tess’s bed.
I go to the farthest point I can on the Conveyor Line before stepping off and walking the rest. When I reach the long road leading towards the gate, where the people grow thin and the world grows quiet, I practice a little more with my eyes, focusing hard on the hulking Brute standing in the distance.
He stands there, to the side of the gate, looking decidedly bored with his lot in life. I keep my eyes on him as I move, watching him stare blankly out down the street, until a beeping sound blares and my eyes suddenly come shooting back down to earth.
I’m shocked to see that I’ve wandered right into the middle of the road and nearly been hit by a passing car. Inside, a rather grumpy looking man shakes his fist at me. I don’t need to be a lip-reader to know what he’s saying.
I step back onto the pavement and the car whirs on, passing down towards the heart of the western quarter. I make a mental note to only zoom with my eyes when I’m both stationary and not under the scrutiny of anyone who might see.
Had I done that under the watchful gaze of a City Guard or Con-Cop, they might just have put two and two together.
Shape up, Brie, I grunt, reprimanding myself internally.
I continue towards the gate without taking any further risks. When I reach it, I find the Brute bearing down on me. This one’s frankly gigantic, even bigger than the man who I met at the bachelor ball.
“Name and identification number,” his voice thunders.
“Erm, Brie Melrose. And I don’t have an I.D. number.”
He lifts up his trunk-like forearm and taps on an interface.
“Ah, yes, Miss Melrose. I was told to expect you. Come this way.”
He guides me to the door to the right of the gate and opens it up. I follow behind in his shadow, feeling like a tiny child next to him as he ducks through the opening.
I flash my wrist and check my watch. 7.03PM.
Not a good start. Savants don’t take kindly to poor time-keeping.
As we pass through the door, I step to the left to escape the Brute’s endless shadow.
“Here you go, Miss Melrose,” he says, pointing with a giant finger.
I follow it up the short road towards the Outer Spiral, where a car sits waiting for me. And outside it, dressed in his light grey suit, stands the rigid form of Adryan.
“Have a good evening,” remarks the Brute, before returning to his station.
I’ll say this about him and his kind: they’re always terribly polite. Every Brute I’ve met so far – which, admittedly, are only a few – have been rather well-mannered and docile. The similarities between the Brutes and Drum just keep on coming.
The man ahead of me, I suspect,
won’t be quite as respectful. It probably won’t be intentional, more a side-effect of his emotional disability. Marching towards him, I expect a frank word on the lateness of my arrival.
I’m surprised to see that I don’t get it.
He moves forward with the smallest hint of a smile on his face. As before, his lips remain shut. Perhaps he hasn’t yet mastered the full, toothy smile yet.
“Good evening, Brie,” he says, stepping before me. He stops short, and bows his head as every Enhanced did at the bachelor ball.
I quickly recall Sophie’s lessons on ‘preparing for life in Inner Haven’. Like at the bachelor ball, all greetings between men and women in Inner Haven are conducted in this fashion.
So, I perform my own little bow in return.
He steps forwards a little closer, and his arms reach out to me. I can’t quite decide if he’s moving in for an uncomfortable hug, perhaps in an attempt to perform a more common greeting on the other side of the wall.
My arms open up and come forward too. I feel foolish when I realise he’s merely removing my jacket for me.
“There we go, much better,” he says, revealing my blue dress.
He turns suddenly to his car and begins moving away. I hurry to catch up as he opens up the door and puts my jacket inside.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask, trying to sound casual but, inside, feeling far more nervous than I expected to be. “Is there some specific function to all this? We going to need to jump through a few hoops to, you know, make this official?”
My humour, or attempt at it, doesn’t go down well.
“Don’t speak like that around here, Brie.” He leans in. “Wait until we’re alone.”
And that’s the second time I’ve felt foolish in as many minutes.
Welcome back to Inner Haven…
He doesn’t speak again until we’ve climbed into his car and the door is sealed shut. Then he deigns to answer my question.
“There’s a general process we need to follow,” he says, turning to me in the backseat. “I have more leeway than others, though. If needs be, we might be able to expedite things.”
“And…the end goal is, what exactly?”
He frowns.
“Surely you’ve been told.”
“Well, not in so many words.”
“Hmmm. Well, to maximise your subterfuge here, we’ll need to marry.”
My insides shrink and dry out, like old rotten fruit. I was afraid he’d say that.
“You don’t look happy with the idea. I was told by Lady Orlando that you were committed to this mission?”
“I am, I guess. I mean, it’s all just happening very fast. And now, marriage? It’s a lot to get my head around.”
“Why? It’s a simple document. We merely need to sign a piece of paper for the records. Nothing else is required.”
“That’s what marriage is here?”
“Yes. What else is there?”
“Um, I dunno. A ceremony. A celebration. A party.”
“Of course, that’s how you do it in Outer Haven…”
“Yeah, that’s just the normal way to do it. Marriage is meant to be about love, you know,” I say sardonically. “That’s something people like to celebrate with the people they care about.”
“Don’t look at me like that,” he warns.
I recoil. I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong.
“Like what?”
“Like you are. You think, because I’m a Savant, I don’t understand the concept of love.”
“Well, do you?”
His grey-blue eyes sharpen, glinting like the edge of a silver blade. They contrast so strikingly with his jet-black hair and creamy pale skin.
He falls silent for a moment, and then turns away.
“Our marriage will be nothing but a sham, Brie,” he says calmly. “It will merely allow you greater access to certain doors. It carries with it no other obligation than to let you carry out your mission.”
“The mission. Right. And, what is it exactly that I’m here to do?”
His eyes come back to me.
“They really haven’t told you, have they?”
“Told me what?”
His staring eyes bring my heart to life. I feel it drumming behind my chest, shouting out a warning.
And then his words come again.
“You’re here to kill Director Artemis Cromwell.”
41
For a good few seconds I stare into Adryan’s eyes, unblinking. Then, slowly, I turn down to look at my feet. His words take a few moments to sink in.
And once they have, I begin to laugh.
“I didn’t think you Savants had a sense of humour,” I say.
“We don’t, as a general rule.”
My eyes swing back to his, hoping to see some lightness in them.
“But you do? You’re joking, right?”
Please say yes. Please say yes.
“No. That is why you’re here. That’s what all of this is about.”
I enjoy a second bout of temporary silence. Once more my feet become the focal point for my eyes. Then, in a sudden rush, I grab the door handle, open it up, and storm out of the car.
I set my eyes on the gate, fifty or so metres away. I’m so wired I might just try to test out my new Dasher powers, my muscles vibrating and humming and getting set to explode.
I hold back the urge and stick to mere marching, stamping my feet hard as I head for the exit. Back to Outer Haven. Back to the academy. Back to my old life.
I should never have come here. I should never have signed up for this.
A voice comes at me as I go. I’m only about ten metres from the car.
“Brie, stop.”
I don’t. I carry on, quickening my pace just a little.
I hear Adryan scampering behind me, rushing to catch up. Thankfully, this close to the wall, there aren’t many people around. A few cars drifting around the Spiral. A few pedestrians walking in their formulaic manner along the streets. Perhaps people can see us from up in their apartments, watching this little scene play out.
I couldn’t care less. I’m out of here. Gone.
“Brie, please. Stop and listen to me.”
Adryan’s voice is closer now. Only a few metres away.
He appears at my side, jogging right up to me, and lays a hand on my shoulder. I imagine that he’s never had to run in his life. Such a thing, surely, would be unbecoming of such a man.
He twists me around to face him. His eyes are ice, grey-blue and frosty. Mine are fire, hazel and burning.
“Brie, come back to the car. We cannot create a scene,” he whispers.
“I can do whatever I want,” I counter. “I’m going back to where I belong.”
I turn to move off again. His strong hand maintains its grip.
“Let go, or you’ll lose it,” I growl.
“I can’t,” he says. “I’m in this too deep now. I won’t let you go, Brie. Please, let’s just talk. Your brother would want you to talk.”
I scoff at the suggestion, and shake his hand from my shoulder.
I don’t care. He must have known about this all along. Why didn’t he tell me?
Why, Zander? Why?
I half expect him to reply, somewhere deep in my mind. He doesn’t.
Instead, Adryan’s voice comes at me again, still calm and methodical but showing a hint of tension.
“Brie, think about this logically…”
I round on him.
“Oh, you Savants just LOVE your logic, don’t you!”
“And you love your absurd emotional outbursts. Seriously, what’s prompted this crazed display?”
“Are you the stupidest Savant alive?! You want me to…” I cut myself off, containing my voice and turning it to a harsh whisper. “You want me to kill the most powerful man in the city,” I bite.
“Lady Orlando wants it. The Nameless want it. Surely their combined wisdom is enough to make you at least hear me out?”
His words have some impact on me. I take a long, deep, breath, and un-ball my fists. My arms hang a little looser by my sides, my heart-rate easing back.
“Come to the car, Brie,” says Adryan again. “This way, come on.”
With his hand now dropping to the small of my back, he gently guides me back up the street. Turning now, I notice that our little display has garnered a few peering eyes.
I doubt they ever see such a thing around here.
The audience, however, helps to quell my ire further. As we reach the car, I turn my mouth back into a little smile just to keep up appearances. The watching eyes determine that the scene has concluded, and continue to go about their evenings.
I step into the car, and let the smile slip from my face.
As soon as the doors shut, Adryan issues a command. To the car, not me.
Right now, he wouldn’t dare.
“Inner Spiral, The Court House,” he says.
The car hums to life and immediately starts to glide off onto the pristine road, joining the Outer Spiral and turning left.
“Why are we going to a courthouse?” I ask, my eyes still hidden under heavy frowns.
“No, not a courthouse. The Court House,” he corrects me, as if I should understand the distinction.
I make it very clear through my blank expression that further explanation is required. He at least has some intuition, enough to pick up on my confusion.
“Ah, of course. A courthouse to you would be a place where crimes are disputed and suitable punishments given out. This is very different. It is a building used specifically for the process of courting.”
“The process of courting. You make it sound so romantic.”
“Romance has little to do with it. Marriages here are more like contracts. So, we should be just fine…”
Was that an attempt at humour?
“Um, well, you still seem to be assuming that our little mission is going ahead? I’m doing this as a courtesy, Adryan. After tonight, I won’t be coming back to Inner Haven…”
“And that is your choice,” he remarks casually. “You must do what’s best for you, after all. No one can force you to do anything.”
