by T. C. Edge
Not a good spot for either of us. And, with a very brief dart into his mind, I see that he’s thinking exactly that. There’s real suspicion there, but nothing for him to act upon.
Magnus, meanwhile, just smiles and continues to ask me how my life is going. I offer a few words back that are essentially positive, but which sound negative by the manner in which I utter them. Magnus merely smirks and says: “Well, you signed up for this, Brie! You only have yourself to blame!”
With that, his older brother taps him on the back and tells me they have to get going.
“The ceremony will start soon enough, Brie. Good to see you again,” he says.
Magnus agrees with the sentiment, and the two giants stamp off to take their positions.
Left alone now, an official, who I noticed hovering about nearby, immediately comes over towards me. He has a face that reminds me of a rodent, and a rather long nose that you’d assume would make him a Sniffer.
“Excuse me, but you’ll have to step down the street. You can’t be here,” comes his nasal command.
I assume he didn’t tell me before due to my companions. Now that they’ve gone, I guess I need to ‘know my place.”
Still, seeing as I live in the High Tower, I assume I have some authority to find a position a little closer to the stage. When I tell him as much, he dismisses my theory and says, in no uncertain terms, that I need to ‘join the rest of my kind at the back’.
The way in which he addresses me, and looks at me, makes it clear that this ratty little man has no respect for Outer Haveners.
Feeling insulted, I find it hard not to act. If this creature knew what I really was, then he wouldn’t be looking down on me like this.
Don’t react, Brie, I warn myself. That’s just your pride speaking.
Damn right it is.
I can’t help but offer him a very clear look of my own batch of personal disdain. And then, with a flash of my eyes, I slip into his mind and order him to apologise.
It’s completely inadvisable to act as such, especially in present company, but something in me just snaps that I can’t control. Thankfully, however, I pull myself from his consciousness too quickly for anyone nearby to notice, and set my eyes on the man again.
Seeing as he’s not a Savant, and his mind is no more advanced than any regular fellow over in Outer Haven, the order sets easily. I guess I’ve been spending enough time issuing orders to powerful minds that anything less is a walk in the park.
So it would seem.
With a sudden contrition, the weasel looks at me, bows his head, and offers an immediate apology.
“I’m very sorry,” he says earnestly, “for the way I spoke to you.”
I smile, both from hearing his words – man that order was easy to deliver – and from relief that I wasn’t caught out.
“That’s quite alright,” I tell him. “I guess you’re just doing your job.”
He nods and scurries away, and despite winning that little exchange, I begin moving a little further down the street. After all, I’m only going to get some other official telling me to move, so might as well ‘join my kind at the back’, as he told me to do.
So, off I go down the street, heading towards the rear stands, all filled with blue. I’m fairly surprised to see so many Unenhanced here, and so many people in general. I thought it was to be a smaller affair, a more private event to honour an important, but specific force of people in this city.
Clearly, though, given their growing prominence in recent weeks, the people have come out to give them their support. As one of the few people around here who actually knows what the hell is going on on the ‘inside’, it does leave a rather bitter taste in my mouth.
Moving in to find a place to sit, a soft voice calls out behind me.
“Brie! Oh Brie!”
I turn around and see Sophie come rushing through the narrow gap between the stands, hurrying to catch me up. She needn’t, really, seeing as I’ve stopped.
Still, she keeps on coming at a decent trot, gobbling me up into her typically swift embrace.
“Brie, darling, I hoped I’d catch you here this afternoon. How are you? How’s Adryan? How’s your new life?!”
I get the usual sense of enthusiasm from her, although it feels quite forced and somewhat muted. There’s a redness around her eyes that not even her makeup can hide, and a pain etched across her usually pristine visage that anyone with a bit of compassion would be able to see.
Taking my hand, she pulls me into a seat towards the front of the section set aside for our people, and sets her eyes on me.
“Tell me everything.”
The request looks to be somewhat distractionary, as if she needs something to take her mind off the reality of her life. That’s the impression I get from her, and the feeling that abounds from her thoughts as I snipe in and take a quick look.
So, instead of telling her how my life is going, I can’t help but ask about hers.
“What’s wrong, Sophie?” I ask softly.
She recoils a little, as if such a question is so rarely asked of her. And then, after a couple of seconds’ delay, the cracks begin to show, and the corners of her eyes grow damp.
“It’s nothing, nothing,” she says hurriedly.
I take her hand in comfort.
“It’s OK, Sophie. You can tell me.”
She locks eyes with me again. I don’t need to set an order. I don’t want to force her to do anything.
Because, really, it’s so obvious what this is about.
“Rycard,” she whispers. “He’s…he’s been discharged…”
Yep, that’s what I thought.
“Is he here?” I ask.
She shakes her head, pulling a handkerchief from her purse and dabbing her eyes.
“He wouldn’t come. Not after everything. I thought I’d better…you know, to keep up appearances. But…but I’m worried, Brie. I’m so worried.”
She begins to shake, and I pull her into a hug.
“It’s OK,” I whisper, shushing her. “We’ll figure something out. I’ll help you. It’ll all be fine in the end, you’ll see…”
Her weak eyes rise up again, stiffening.
“You really think so?”
“Of course. I promise.”
My words are mostly empty of real meaning. They’re the sort of clichéd offerings you give to someone in such a state, words to do nothing but give them some of your strength, show them that you’re right there with them, and that they don’t have to go through it all alone.
It’s obvious from Sophie’s expression that, whatever show she puts on, she has been going through this alone for some time. That she doesn’t really have anyone to talk to, no one to lay bare her soul to, to shed all her worries and concerns and hear the very words I’m telling her: that it will be OK.
And regaining her lost composure, she quickly pulls herself back together, refusing to surrender to anything but a brief moment of weakness. Raising that familiar false smile, she nods and sniffs her last.
“You’re right,” she says. “It’ll…all be fine.”
She’s lying. She doesn’t think that at all. And in truth, I’m lying too. Because I know, really, that she, and her family, are in real danger now of being cast out.
But there’s one thing I’m not lying about. I will help her. That’s a promise that I’ll always keep, no matter what.
And as I smile back supportively, a sudden hush begins to flow from the front stands, and the great mass of City Guards ahead stand up straight and to attention, all their bodies stiffening as one. Their eyes raise up, and so do those of the entire congregation, and from the shadows at the rear of the balcony, a man comes.
Dressed in a dazzling white, and with a head of neat grey hair and calm blue eyes, Commander Fenby advances. He moves straight towards the front of the balcony, his step precise and smooth, and surveys all the gathered people before him.
An unearthly silence fills the air, showing the dee
p levels of reverence these people hold for their leaders, and I wait in breathless anticipation for the Commander’s first words.
But they never come.
Because from a high angle off to the left, a pulse of blue light fills the air, spreading from the window of a nearby building and galloping straight for the balcony. I catch it immediately in my peripheral vision, somewhere above me, and with a tension gripping at my heart, activate my Hawk and Dasher powers together to slow the flow of light to my eyes.
I watch now, with the world moving at a crawl around me, as the light zips straight for the balcony, connecting with an invisible shield around it. Immediately, bright blue sparks begin to fizz and crackle, eating away at the force field, and as it does, another flash brightens above, and a loud snap echoes across the square.
Still staring at the disintegrating shield, I see Commander Fenby turning his gaze up, his eyes widening with an element of confusion. Then, as the barrier before him melts, the shape of a single bullet cuts straight through a tiny gap, moving so fast I can barely pick it up.
Through it goes, sent by an expert marksman hidden from sight, and cutting a path right for Commander Fenby’s head. Before he can react – before anyone can react – the bullet imbeds itself into his skull, and emerges from the other side, leaving nothing but a circle of red in its wake, and a splash of crimson on the wall of the balcony behind.
For a second, as the echo of gunfire bounds down the streets of Inner Haven, no one does anything. And then, as Commander Fenby collapses to the floor, the world erupts into chaos.
And along with it, more gunfire comes.
93
The chattering of voices that preceded the arrival of Commander Fenby has now been replaced with the chattering of gunfire.
It comes from above and below. It comes from the left and right. Within barely a split second, every single person in attendance has begun to rush; some rushing away in fright, others rushing into the fray, searching frantically for the source.
The rattle of gunfire, coming from various angles, ends almost as abruptly as it starts. Immediately, however, my reaction is to hover low and hunt for the source as others are, dragging Sophie down with me.
Ahead, I look to see the City Guard spreading off in various directions, turning their minds from the ceremony and to their work. Dashers zip away, Hawks send forward their eyes, Bats listen for further signs of imminent gunfire.
But it ends quickly, and suddenly the street fills with nothing but screaming and clamouring and the heavy sound of pounding feet as thousands of people stand up and run.
I’m not one of them. I only stand but don’t run. Next to me, Sophie stays low under my command, my voice ordering for her to stay down should a fresh assault come.
Activating my Hawk powers, I look forward and scan the scene, trying to pick out any possible culprits, see some familiar face.
And familiar they will be. Because this attack can only have come from the Nameless.
Scanning, I watch as the Savants move back to the High Tower in a strangely orderly fashion. They don’t fling themselves about like the Unenhanced women around me, shrieking and crying and losing all sense of city etiquette as they charge off down the street as fast as their dainty legs will carry them.
No, Savants don’t behave like that, even in a crisis. Instead, they move at a controlled speed, reaching the doors of the High Tower and quickly disappearing inside without a fuss. Meanwhile, their regular Enhanced counterparts – those not involved with the City Guard – act in a similar fashion to the Unenhanced, rushing off using whatever gifts they’ve been given to get to safety as soon as possible.
Before long, the stands are clearing and the City Guard have formed a protective cordon around the place. Ahead, I see Deputy Burns managing things, pointing this way and that and working behind the vast protective frames of a number of armoured Brutes.
Already, I know, he’ll have the Stalkers hunting the assailants down, just as they did after the Nameless took control of the feed during the previous ceremony. It seems they rather enjoy interrupting these events, although this time it’s very different.
Last time, it was all about sending a message, getting in front of all of Outer Haven to send them a warning of the troubles to come. This time, however, they had something more sinister in mind.
They’ve just murdered a member of the Consortium. They’ve just assassinated one of the senior ranking Savants in this city. And, for my money, they’ve just made my job a hell of a lot harder.
What the hell is going on!
As Sophie continues to try to drag me down from my feet, calling for me to get down, I just stare out in anger and confusion. But there’s no fear in me. I know who did this, and I know they’ve done what they came here to do.
And I know, too, why my brother has been so busy lately. This attack has his fingerprints all over it. And clearly, it required a lot of planning.
But it’s over now, I know that. They killed the man they came here to kill, and they most likely continued to fire to cause chaos among the people, to create a diversion to help them escape. If they’re the good people I hope they are, they won’t have seen the need to murder anyone else today.
So I continue to scan forward to make sure, to check for other bodies. I see none. None that are dead or being treated, at least. Instead, I see hectic activity and rushing figures, all darting here and there as they try to figure out what the hell just happened.
But among those rushing bodies, one stands completely still. Swaying my vision across the stage, I see the close up face of Agent Woolf staring right back at me. My heart skips a beat and I zoom back with my eyes, returning my sight to normal. She’s a long way away, sixty metres or so, and yet still, she’s staring.
Damn…
“OK Sophie, we have to go. Right now.”
I grab Sophie’s arm and pull her to her feet. She’s trembling, her eyes alert. Turning her, we begin moving down the street away from the cold gaze of the woman who won’t leave me alone; this unstoppable, undeviating robot who seems hell-bent on making my life a misery.
As I work away with Sophie, heading west, my mind works quickly.
Did she see me like Titus did in the marshes, using my Hawk eyes? How could she from that distance? She’s just a Mind-Manipulator, not a Hawk. There’s no way she could tell…
I work my way to a solution that helps settle my pacing heart. Strange, really, that it’s a simple look at her face that sends my pulse galloping more than the sound of gunfire, and the sight of a man having his head cut through by a sniper bullet.
I can’t keep going like this. I need that woman gone.
As we move quickly towards the Inner Spiral, I turn to Sophie and lift her up to her full height. Until now, she’s been walking at a crouch, as if expecting a fresh barrage of gunfire to come flashing from the buildings above.
“It’s OK now, Soph, it’s fine, it’s over,” I say.
Her eyes maintain that heavy cloak of shock. It’s another thing that’s changed in me so fast, my own complexion calm and body primed for just about anything.
“Where’s your car, Sophie? I’ll take you home,” I continue.
With a shivering hand, she points towards an underground parking lot, the same one we used the first time she brought Tess and me here.
At a jog, I lead her down into the darkness, and set about putting her into her car. We have to dodge a few vehicles as we go, the place quickly emptying out as a stream of computer-driven cars begin working their way up onto the street and away to the various coils of Inner Haven.
Climbing into Sophie’s car, I ask her her address. She seems so scrambled that she’s barely able to remember. I flash inside her mind and find it for myself, passing the order for the vehicle to drive out towards the Outer Spiral on the western edge of Inner Haven.
We join the traffic, which flows along steadily, unlike across the border. Over in Outer Haven, where the vehicles are predominant
ly self-drive, it’s not uncommon to find the streets gridlocked at certain times of day, especially if some of the tracks along the Conveyor Line are down for maintenance.
Here, however, such a thing isn’t a problem. Not only is the population less dense per square mile, but the computer-driven cars are, naturally, less prone to making mistakes or suffering from the road-rage that does, on occasion, make even the most calm-headed individual into a crazed maniac.
As such, it doesn’t take long to work our way across the quickest route towards the Outer Spiral, where we step out at Sophie’s building, letting the car park for itself, and quickly move up towards her apartment.
By the time we reach her door, she’s managed to regain some of her composure, although is clearly still in a slight state of shock. I can only assume that her current mental fragility has compounded the effects of hearing that gunfire, seeing as the event itself wasn’t enough to warrant such a reaction.
At least, not to me. Perhaps she’s different, and a little more delicate.
Setting her hand to the scanner, the door unlocks and we pass down the corridor and into the main living area. The last time I came here was under similar circumstances, after the Nameless interrupted the previous ceremony. I get a slight sense of déjà vu as I enter, setting Sophie down onto the sofa and fetching some water from the dispenser in the kitchen.
Now, I know my way around easily enough. This apartment, while smaller, is very similar in structure to my current one, and the one that Adryan and I met up in in the Court House. The architects and designers here clearly don’t have much imagination.
As I pass Sophie a flask of water, she takes a sip and shakes her head.
“No, no,” she says, standing and moving towards the kitchen herself.
She returns a few moments later with something stronger, pouring us both a glass of wine instead. She sucks down a gulp in a fashion that suggests she’s been indulging in the stuff a little more frequently these days. Given her current troubles, that’s not entirely surprising.
