by T. C. Edge
Loading up the hologram, I spend a bit more time looking at the structure of the High Tower again, sitting on the sofa and staring at its summit. I don’t do so in any real hope of seeing something Adryan might have missed – thorough as he is, that’s highly unlikely – but more to fully acquaint myself with the floors above me.
It’s interesting to see how the various apartments on each level grow a little larger the higher you go, with the highest ranking Savants given a larger allowance. I wonder which one Agent Woolf lives in, or Deputy Burns, or anyone else I’ve come across over the last few weeks.
I can imagine that Deputy Burns, in particular, will have one of the most prominent accommodations below the summit. Agent Woolf, being of lower rank, will be several floors down, perhaps around the same level as Adryan was before he moved here with me. If my memory serves, that was level 71, and she most likely resides around there.
I wonder, too, whether these people live alone or have spouses. Deputy Burns, I can imagine, will have a wife who lives with him. The same idea doesn’t quite compute with Woolf, such a hateful woman as she is. Despite my lack of affection for these Savants, I still feel a swell of pity for any possible husband she might have.
To me, marriage seems like a pointless exercise for her. Here, it’s only required as a tool for procreation, and frankly, I don’t see Agent Woolf as the type to ever have children, not that she’d necessarily have any say in the matter. I suspect that any woman able to breed is also required to do so to further the race. But unlike poor Mary, if she did, I suspect she’d be only too happy to give the child up.
As I sit and ponder my mission, my mind turns again to Zander, and the voice that rumbled through my subconscious. Shutting my eyes, I try to get in touch with him to update him on what’s been happening. My attempts fail, as they have done several times in the last few days.
Each time, it sends a new pulse of worry through me. He did say that he wouldn’t be contactable all the time, and that he was busy with his own important business. That said, I can’t help but think that something terrible has happened when he fails to reply.
Could he have been hurt?
Could he have been killed?
Such fears and more begin to rush through me, setting my pulse racing. Then again, I satisfy myself with the knowledge that, should something happen to him, I’m certain that Adryan will be informed and will, consequently, pass the message on to me.
I do briefly consider trying to use Adryan’s communicator myself to speak with Lady Orlando and find out just what’s going on down there. I don’t currently know the code, but with a bit of careful exploration of my husband’s mind, I’m sure I could locate it.
And then, as always, I remember exactly what Zander told me – just keep your mind on your task, he’d said. Don’t let yourself be distracted by anything that happens…
Hard as it can be at times, that’s what I have to do. And so, with that thought in mind, I shut down the hologram, get myself appropriately dressed, and work my way down towards the atrium as the early afternoon begins to shift along at a quickening pace.
My latest task is, of course, to merely spark up a conversation with Rebecca and find out what her schedule is like. When I first arrive, however, I find her completely inundated with work, the scheduling of the ceremony clearly keeping her too busy to spare me any time at all.
I try, of course, to get her chatting, but am quickly told to leave her alone if I have no urgent requests that need immediate attention. I can think of nothing, and so head off for a little while, returning to the gardens on level 10 to give myself a much needed energy boost.
Sucking in the life-giving oxygen, I wander around looking at the beautiful plants and occasionally heading for the perimeter to look down at the world below. As it always seems to be, it’s fairly quiet, with only a smattering of people wandering about as I am. Some come only briefly to reinvigorate themselves, while others look upon the plant life with a measure of curiosity, perhaps interested in studying them further to give them a better understanding of what lies beyond our borders.
As I go about my business, I see a flash of blue amid the grey, and spot the face of Lucy Paulson meandering her way down the little lanes. I hurry my step over to her as she lifts her eyes to mine, hoping to get some update on my genetics test. If Rebecca couldn’t help me, perhaps she can, seeing as her husband works there.
Her face brightens at my arrival, and she pulls me into a hug.
“Brie, how are you? How was dinner at Mary’s?”
“I’m good, Lucy. Dinner was lovely.”
It wasn’t. The food was a little overdone, and the conversation was a little disjointed. I still feel bad for bringing up the topic of family, so sore as it still is for Mary.
“That’s fabulous. Sorry I couldn’t make it, a little short notice in the end for Raymond and me. Are you settling in OK?”
“Um, as well as can be expected, I suppose,” I say. Somehow, I don’t feel I have to be completely fake with Lucy. Of anyone, she’ll understand just how odd it is moving here from Outer Haven.
“You’ll get the hang of it soon enough,” she says with a smile. Her eyes spread around the level, looking upon the natural greenery with a growing affection. “If nothing else, these gardens are quite delightful. They can be a real refuge in your lower moments.”
“You come here a lot, do you?” I ask.
“More than I’d care to admit, yes. I often wander around here at lunchtime. The other communal levels can get so busy during certain times, but here it’s always quiet.”
“Yeah, I’m getting the impression that Savants don’t properly appreciate this place,” I add. “If there were gardens like this in Outer Haven, they’d be constantly packed.”
“No doubt about that,” laughs Lucy.
We begin wandering around the level together, a couple of outsiders dressed in blue among a strange sea of grey. Here, though, there’s plenty of green to hide us, along with various other colours sprouting from beautiful flowers. In certain areas, it’s quite stunning, assaulting the senses in a magical way.
My thoughts, though, are of a darker disposition, and the nagging doubt about my blood test still won’t go away. So I ask Lucy, hoping she can clear the air.
“Oh, you’ll hear nothing about that unless there’s a problem. And, if there is, they’ll probably just come barging through your door!” She laughs slightly awkwardly, suggesting she’s known it to happen before.
I certainly have. I saw exactly that in Adryan’s mind, when his poor wife was snatched away from him, never to be seen again.
“So, it should be OK then?” I ask. “It’s been a few days now, after all.”
“It’s fine, Brie. I asked my husband about it all and he said those new tests take two days max. You’re in the clear, don’t worry so much!”
My immediate feeling is of both relief and guilt. So, my door’s not going to be kicked down, but poor W. Malcolm’s door certainly will be.
I can’t help the thought from gnawing away at me, nibbling like a rat in my head. I’ve truly crossed a line now. Is there anything I won’t do to complete my mission?
I turn my mind from it, though, using my own powers of mind manipulation on myself. Best to hide that memory a little deeper, make it less easy to recall. Perhaps that’s the only way Zander manages to get through the day, clouding all his memories of pain and guilt.
Having done a full circle of level 10, Lucy leaves me with my personal concerns assuaged. As she returns to the nurseries to work, so too do I, heading back down to the atrium as the afternoon continues to tick along at pace.
Once more, I attempt to begin a conversation with Rebecca, and find her similarly preoccupied as before. The ceremony is quickly arriving, with the stands and streets outside now beginning to fill.
“Busy afternoon?” I ask with a wry smile, nodding out towards the growing gathering.
Her eyes flick up to mine and then back down to her
screen.
“You again, Mrs Shaw. I told you before, if you have no urgent request, please don’t distract me. You must learn to abide by the rules here. This isn’t acceptable.”
“Sorry, force of habit,” I say. “At least you’ll get to relax soon, though, right? I doubt too many days are as hectic as this…”
“This is a rare event, yes. But no, I won’t conclude my shift until much later…”
Bingo. Time to go in for the kill.
“Ah, that’s a shame. Do you work until late then?”
Her eyes dance up to mine a final time. I see the bare bones of a frown of irritation across her flat and usually unwrinkled complexion.
“I currently operate on the afternoon and evening shift. I won’t finish until 3AM. Now please, Mrs Shaw, would you leave me alone.”
“Of course, Rebecca, I do apologise. Don’t work too hard now.”
She doesn’t react to the comment. Such a turn of phrase won’t mean anything to these people. They do their duty and nothing more. The concept of working hard doesn’t even exist here – everyone, after all, is required to operate at full capacity all the time. Working hard is built right into their lives.
Turning my eyes back towards the main doors, I find myself drawn forward. Outside, the shade of black is prominent, owing to the many City Guards now gathering in the stalls ahead of the stage. Beyond, grey is the more dominant colour, with an unexpectedly large number of Savants also here to offer their support, filling the stands and streets as they prepare for the arrival of Commander Fenby.
Checking my watch, I see that it’s not much past 2.30PM, with the official start time of the ceremony a little way off. Determining that I have enough time to have a wander outside, before returning to the apartment to watch proceedings, I make an immediate beeline for the doors.
And for the first time since stepping foot into the High Tower, out into the fresh, open air I go.
92
The scene before me is enough to set my pulse racing. There’s a hum in the air, generated by the hundreds of regular Enhanced assembling around the front of the stage. They stand around and gather in anticipation, their faces appearing so much more interesting than those I now live with.
It’s incredibly refreshing to see normal people again. Enhanced, yes, and genetically different from those in Outer Haven, but still human nonetheless.
I wander around to the left, working my way down off the wide platform surrounding the High Tower and around the side of the stands built up down the left hand side of the main street. Still, many more City Guards continue to spread from the far reaches of Inner Haven, clearly given some time off their duties to attend.
It’s odd, really, seeing as their numbers have been so prolific throughout Outer Haven for the last month. I briefly wonder who’s out there on patrol and watching over things if they’re all in here, but immediately realise that I already know the answer.
The Con-Cops, no doubt, will be making up the difference.
Then again, they could more or less shift every City Guard from the streets and it wouldn’t make a blind bit of difference. After all, their numbers have only risen in accordance with the attacks by the Fanatics and, well, we all know that the Consortium are behind that little show.
Well, not all of us know that. In fact, very few do. And those up at the top of the High Tower want to keep it that way.
As I take in the view, feeling the first bit of wind on my face for several days, I glance up towards the High Tower and set my eyes on the balcony where, many weeks ago, the entire Consortium gathered.
Now, it’s empty, stretching out from the external flank of the building at around level 4. Those low levels, I now know, are generally used for running the building; maintenance, security, and other such things. And with my now vast knowledge of the internal structure of the High Tower, I look upon it all with a more surgical eye.
The balcony, in fact, is reachable only from a special private lift at the summit of the structure. It is accessible for the Consortium only, and only their security clearance gives them control of it. The lift opens up within a private room in the High Tower, leading to a very short corridor, which then opens out onto the balcony.
From inside the High Tower, there’s no way of getting to the balcony except via that lift. Essentially, it’s purely used as a method of transporting the members of the Consortium to and from the balcony without forcing them to have to mingle or interact with anyone else.
Of course, Adryan and I picked up on this last night, and briefly considered it as an alternative way into the summit. Seeing as the lift goes straight up there without stopping anywhere else, I looked upon it as a rather attractive option.
Adryan, as per usual, was quick to count it out as a possibility.
His explanation was twofold.
First of all, there’s no way of getting up onto that balcony to actually gain access to the lift. And secondly, even if I could, I wouldn’t be able to control it, seeing as I don’t have the security clearance, something only the members of the Consortium have.
All in all, it was an appealing prospect, but one that held no water at all. A shame, but Adryan, as always, was right on the money.
As I stand and stare at the balcony with a ripple of frustration, I feel the ground beginning to shake behind me. The light tremors send me spinning on the spot, and I arch my eyes up to see not one, but two familiar faces looking down upon me with wide smiles stretched across them.
Ahead of me stand two colossal figures dressed in black uniforms.
First, Titus, the Brute I met at the bachelor ball and who saved me from the toxic marshes, before secreting me back into the city. I owe him my life, and will never forget what he did for me.
To his side stands Magnus, the Brute who I came across several times while crossing through the western gate. He was a breath of fresh air every time we crossed paths, and cemented my theory that Brutes are all just gentle giants really.
I look from one to the next with a bloom of affection in me. Their faces are similarly bright, Magnus’s in particular. He’s the first to speak.
“Brie, how are you?! Or, I suppose I should be calling you Mrs Shaw now…”
“Hi…Magnus. I’m really well, thanks.”
My eyes switch to Titus, who looks to his companion with a frown.
“Magnus, you know her?” he asks.
Now Magnus turns to his similarly sized colleague.
“Yes, I met her on guard at the western gate. Wait…you know her too?”
“I met her at the bachelor ball not so long ago,” nods Titus. “And…”
He cuts himself off, refusing to recollect the second of our meetings, and turns down to me. Then Magnus does too, and for the first time I see the resemblance.
“Are you…related?” I ask.
They both nod, and Titus speaks.
“Brothers. I’m the older.”
“But only by a year, Titus,” booms Magnus. “Don’t go playing that card again. And anyway, I’m bigger…”
Titus huffs and shakes his head. Size, I assume, is the prized asset among such people.
I stifle a laugh at the exchange. It’s strangely comical seeing these two gigantic men standing side by side, speaking together in such a fashion.
“Your poor mother,” I whisper, smirking. It was meant to just be a thought, but slipped out.
They both frown at me. For some reason, I don’t find either of them in the slightest bit intimidating anymore.
“What was that, Brie?” asks Titus, peering down.
“Oh, nothing…I’m just imagining you two as kids, that’s all. Can’t have been easy for your mother…”
“Well, don’t feel sorry for her,” remarks Titus. “She’s hardly a shrinking violet herself. I doubt you’ve seen too many Brute women, but they do exist I can assure you.”
It’s true. Brute women do seem to be a rarity. Living in Outer Haven, even seeing a Brute man as part of the City
Guard was rare enough. Until recently, of course.
“So what are you doing here, Brie? Shouldn’t you be in your new home?” asks Magnus, glancing at the High Tower.
I follow his eyes.
“Oh, I just came down to take a look. I suppose I wanted to see Commander Fenby with my own eyes, rather than watching on the TV…I mean hologram. Seeing a member of the Consortium is such a treat.”
My words flow with a strong scent of sarcasm. Unlike Adryan, these two quickly pick it up. Titus’s eyes, especially, look upon me with a hint of a glare, a questioning gaze that suggests he’s still suspicious that I’m up to no good.
The last time I saw him, he was sneaking me into the city in his car and depositing me out into an alley in the southern quarter. He saw straight through me that morning, and knew exactly what I was. He let me go despite it all, and yet had a few stern words of warning too, a warning that, unfortunately, I can’t submit to no matter how appealing such a thing might be.
He doesn’t know what I’m up to, but makes it pretty clear that he thinks something’s going on. And all he needs to convince me of that is a simple look and nothing more.
God it’s good to be around ‘normal’ people again. Strange to say, given their gargantuan size, but oversized humans though they are, they’re still just men. People with the ability to convey feeling and emotion and all manner of other things with nothing more than the tiniest alterations to their expression.
It’s weird how much you take that for granted. When you end up spending your time surrounded by people who just can’t do the same, you start to appreciate it even more.
So, despite the fact that Titus looks at me suspiciously, I actually rather like seeing it. Naturally, he’ll have no idea what I’m actually up to, but seeing as he strongly suspects I’m with the Nameless, he must be assuming it’s pretty important.
I trust him, though, not to say anything. He didn’t hand me over to be taken to the REEF before, so I doubt he’ll go looking for an excuse to have another crack. And, if he did, the truth would come out and the help he gave me would be mined from my memories, and he’d no doubt find himself lined up next to me in front of the executioner.
