by T. C. Edge
The floor is split into a dozen or so sections, each one given over to specific forms of exercise and fitness, as well as rooms to change and shower in. It doesn’t surprise me that Savants have no love of team activity, their dedication to staying fit and healthy very much a personal and solo pursuit.
Mercifully, I find no City Guards on duty when I first enter the floor, its perimeter lined by a long corridor that circles the entirety of the level. At various points, passageways lead through to the different fitness sections, a network of paths providing easy access to anyone’s chosen physical activity.
It’s so quiet that, aside from seeing no City Guards, I see no Savants at all. Not until I’ve worked my way towards the main swimming pool do I discover my first subject, a lonely figure gently gliding up and down in the water.
The person appears to be alone, and looks to be a man as well.
Not Rebecca then…
I move off towards the next section, this one not a pool but a series of ‘swimming booths’, built in the fashion of running treadmills. Inside, the water flows continuously at varying and adjustable speeds, allowing the user to swim on the spot at whatever intensity they feel comfortable with.
There are several dozen of these booths, all set out in a grid pattern. I listen closely and hear the sound of splashing coming from a couple, only two currently in operation.
Moving to the first, I secretly peer in through the small glass window, and see that it’s a man, his hair short and back broad. No good. I move to the next, creeping up to do the same, and see long hair this time, swishing from side to side in the frothing water. The hair is the wrong colour, though: jet black. Rebecca’s is lighter. This isn’t her.
As I make my conclusion, however, a voice peppers my ears.
“What are you doing?”
I look up to see a man peering at me, dressed in his black uniform. He surveys the room from the doorway in a manner that suggests he’s a Hawk. I lean away from the swimming booth as robotically as I can without appearing to overdo it.
Time for me to test my acting skills.
Walking towards him, I flatten my expression and dull my eyes.
“Nothing,” I say, my voice equally vacant. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
It’s the sort of thing a Savant might say. No regular Enhanced, no matter what their duty or function, is the match of a Savant. I suspect he gets spoken to like that quite often by those who reside here.
He doesn’t respond.
Yet he still watches me closely as I move towards the door. I don’t look at him again, my machinelike motion sending me straight past him.
Then his voice stops me.
“Wait.”
I stop, instinct taking over.
“Don’t I know you?” he asks.
He moves around the side of me. He doesn’t touch me or turn me – that would be too far – but instead works his way to my front and peers into my face.
“Aren’t you…”
I don’t let him conclude his sentence. My head may still be aching from my exertions today, but I’ve still got enough in the tank to glance an order into his mind.
Leave me alone, I say. Continue on your rounds.
His Hawk-eyes glaze over momentarily before he begins gliding past me, off away down the corridor. I let out a small breath and continue on my hunt.
It takes a fair bit of exploration before I find who I’m looking for. I pass through several other exercise facilities, each time finding only a handful of people still up and active. And each time, I spy them with my Hawk-vision and fail to spot who I’m after.
I’m all but ready to give up and try another level, when I hear the sound of tapping feet off in another section. I move inside and look upon a wide space used for running, and see a single frame gliding quite smoothly around the track.
Oddly, while these Savants can be so mechanical during their daily lives, they can also be fairly fluid when in motion. And so it is with the slender figure now cruising around the track, moving at a very constant and quite impressive speed. For a non-Dasher at least.
As she heads off away from me, I send my eyes forward and wait for her to curve around and her face to be revealed. And when it is, I allow a smile to break my otherwise solid Savant-imitation as my quarry comes into view.
My appearance in the room doesn’t cause her to slow. However, she does glance over at me as she comes, perhaps finding my intrusion unexpected. Seeing as these people rely so much upon routine, anything out of the ordinary is sure to raise an eyebrow.
Metaphorically speaking at least. I know they have serious trouble with the literal act of forming such an expression.
Maintaining her pace, she continues round the track as I stand there, watching. The smile quickly falls from my face and I return to my performance, standing rigid and upright as she comes near. She cruises back past me, working around for another lap, but this time does seem to slow. And when she arrives before me again, she stops completely.
It’s obvious she recognises me. But that’s not a problem. In fact, seeing as it’s so quiet, climbing into this disguise probably wasn’t necessary after all. With a light pant, she comes forward and merely says: “Good evening, Mrs Shaw. Why are you not wearing your assigned colour?”
“I just wanted to have a wander around,” I say. “I thought it would look less suspicious wearing grey.”
“That is true. But it’s also against protocol. You are strictly forbidden from deviating from the colours of the Unenhanced. I advise that you return to your apartment immediately. If not, I will be forced to alert the…”
“You won’t do anything of the sort, Rebecca,” I say.
Her expression registers a small amount of surprise at my comment, and the fact that I cut her off. For an Unenhanced to do that to a Savant is also firmly prohibited. She’s quick to let me know of that fact.
“You continue to break protocol, Mrs Shaw. I have no choice but to report you, after which your marriage to Mr Shaw will be annulled and you will be sent back to Outer Haven.”
“Wow, Rebecca, that’s quite the overreaction, don’t you think?!”
“It is not for me to react to,” she responds. “It is merely the assigned protocol. We must all follow rules, Mrs Shaw. Your inability to do so makes you unsuitable for life here.”
She steps towards me calmly, her breathing still a little heavy after her run.
I move into her path to block the way out.
And when her eyes guide to mine, I flash a very simple order into them.
Take a seat by the wall.
It’s such a basic order that it takes hold quickly. After the briefest of delays she moves straight to the wall and sits down.
I follow behind, and take a knee in front of her.
Now I set a new order. Again, it’s simple, and will give me time to work.
Keep your eyes open. Look straight at me. Relax and stay calm.
Her breathing slows. Her eyes open wide. Her vision sticks straight on me, her blue eyes dilating.
“Good,” I whisper. “This won’t take long…”
And with a quick check to make sure the coast is clear, I begin my search with a single thought pervading my mind.
Please…please work.
Her consciousness is like all Savants: vast, beautiful, stretching far and deep. There’s so much memory there, her ability to recall everything she sees and hears and experiences more acute than anyone I’ve ever tried to manipulate.
Even from the outset, it’s clear that her deeper memories are clearer and more distinct, capable of being drawn up with a little effort if she needs to revisit them.
I feel my pulse beginning to race as I start perusing her recollections, creeping through the vast fields of memory quietly and delicately so as not to rearrange things. I focus hard on memories of schedules, and think specifically of Director Cromwell.
Who is he meeting next, Rebecca, I whisper. Who is Director Cromwell
meeting?
As I whisper into her mind, the right memories come forward, surrounding me in their little bubbles. Memories of spreadsheets and files and timings, of meetings set up between the various members of the Consortium and the city officials they regularly meet.
I note that Deputy Commander Burns is fairly high on her agenda right now. He is to have his security credentials and permissions updated, his apartment on level 98 set to be vacated.
Of course, I think to myself. He’s about to be given a major promotion.
Tomorrow, he’s set to join the Consortium, taking up the position of Commander of the City Guard so recently vacated by Commander Fenby. They will waste no time in seeing their ranks completed once more, the body of their departed member barely cold before they see his position filled.
I wonder if any of them even care. Do they spare a thought for their lost comrade, or do they merely look to the next man on the conveyor belt without a second thought?
I assume it’s the latter, and it doesn’t surprise me one bit that Burns will be added to their ranks so quickly.
Yet it does set my mind into focus. Will his promotion provide an opportunity for me? Will he be inaugurated somehow, perhaps welcomed in by Cromwell himself?
With a new haste, I set about searching for details of his upgrade. Unfortunately, I find nothing concrete, Rebecca knowing only about the update to his security permissions and the fact that it will, in fact, be tomorrow that he sees himself officially added to the High Tower.
By the sounds of it, such a thing comes with no fanfare at all. No ceremony, no grand procession. Just a simple journey in the lift to the top, where he’ll set about his new duty and be installed into his new residence.
I guess, given how his predecessor was just assassinated, keeping a low profile over it all isn’t so surprising.
A little further excavation suggests that he’s already beyond my grasp anyway. He lives up on level 98, and is about to rise a couple of floors to the summit. It may just be that he’s spent his last days out on the streets of Inner –and Outer – Haven, his world now the cooped up dome of this towering structure.
And, in any case, being a Mind-Manipulator himself, and one of serious ability at that, I wouldn’t have any chance of rendering him under my control.
So, I start looking further, partially disappointed, and yet partially buoyed by the fact that Rebecca has access to such information. For several more minutes, I focus hard and continue my search, sifting through data and files in her mind as I work my way deeper into her consciousness.
As I begin to grow concerned that I may be causing serious damage to her mind, I happen upon a name that rings a bell. It, too, appears to be quite bright in her mind, Rebecca’s subconscious considering it important and in need of her attention.
I see the name, and it’s joined by a face. A face I saw once before at the bachelor ball.
Ingrid W. Humbert, High Secretary for the Council of Matrimony.
With her name, and face, now growing clear in Rebecca’s memories, I find myself acting faster, searching through her schedule.
In two days time, she’s to come to the High Tower. Something important. An important meeting. I search frantically now for the destination, for the person she’s set to meet, and feel my pulse rise dramatically as I go.
And then I see it. See what I’m looking for.
Level 99. 7PM. Northernmost meeting room.
I stop, and return to my own mind now, thinking again of the schematics of the High Tower. Level 99 is the middle ground between the Consortium and their subordinates, the level where they conduct meetings with other high ranking Savants right beneath their own quarters.
The northernmost meeting room will be directly beneath the northernmost residence of the High Tower.
The residence occupied by Director Cromwell…
And that’s just who she’ll be meeting.
I take a shallow breath and slowly now, gently, withdraw from Rebecca’s mind, an excitement saturating me. I look into my latest target’s eyes and see that they’re still unblinking, slightly glazed. Slowly but surely, they come back to life, and her eyes focus on me once more.
“Mrs Shaw…um, can I help you?”
She looks to her left and right, seemingly confused by what’s just happened. I dart back inside her mind and see the cloud, the memory of my presence in her mind too indistinct for even her to see, despite her powerful eidetic memory.
And standing back to my full height, I reach down and extend my hand.
“I found you here, sat against the wall,” I say. “I just came to see if you were OK…”
She doesn’t take my hand, but stands to her feet by herself. Then she peruses my appearance as she did when I arrived not so long ago.
“Why are you wearing those clothes?” she asks.
I can’t help but smile.
“It’s a long story,” I say. “And one you won’t remember.”
“What do you mean? I remember everything, Mrs Shaw.”
I shake my head.
“Not this.”
And darting back into her head, I hastily erase any memory of my presence, manipulating her one final time before sending her off again around the running track for another few laps.
As she begins running off, yet another slave for me to command, I quickly hasten my way out through the door before she loops around, and speed my step straight back to the lifts.
And as I do, I give up all pretences of acting like a Savant, my motion buoyant and face bright, despite the dangers I still face and the fatigue clawing at my limbs.
Because now, I’ve found what I was searching for. Now I know who my final target will be.
In two days time, at 7PM, Ingrid W. Humbert will rise up to the northernmost meeting room of level 99. And there, she’ll meet none other than the man I’m so desperate to see: Director Artemis Cromwell.
And as I step into the lift, and begin cruising back to level 51, I lift my eyes once more to the ceiling, and whisper quietly…
“I’m coming for you, Cromwell. I’ll be seeing you real soon…”
103
I know I need to sleep, but I can’t. Not now. Not with Woolf lying unconscious on my sofa. Not with the information that I’ve just discovered in Rebecca’s head now swirling around my own.
Adryan doesn’t look like he wants to sleep either. His eyes are as bright as mine, despite the pain in his head caused by the gash I inflicted, and the feeling of tiredness that must also be spreading through his body.
He’s pacing around the room as he tends to do when he’s thinking, and I’m doing the same. It’s too much. One of us needs to stop. I drop to the sofa and spare a glance at Woolf. She’s still out for the count, my fist leaving an impression on her jaw that looks like it will bruise up fairly badly.
She’ll need some lotion to calm the swelling and hide the discolouration. When I order her to walk right out of this building, I don’t want any questions to be raised.
Adryan, though, is still covering the ground like a Dasher, a similar excitement in him as there is in me. I’ve just arrived back into the apartment, and I’ve just filled him in on my rendezvous with Rebecca.
Now, we’re rushing towards the final stretch together. And it’s set my heart thudding like a jackhammer.
As the storm continues to batter the building, sending occasional streaks of lightning through the sky, Adryan stops and sets his eyes to the window.
It looks as though the firefight is still going on down below in the northern quarter, not that he can see it. Only my augmented eyes are capable of doing so, peering through the black clouds and heavy rain and taking in the flashes of blue and red and yellow light.
“It makes sense,” Adryan says, staring out. He gives no immediate context to what he’s referring to.
“What does?” I’m forced to ask.
“Humbert meeting Cromwell,” he answers. “She’s the highest ranking official for the Council
of Matrimony, and that’s something that the Director takes a close interest in. Making sure our population here is genetically diverse, even if that means weakening certain bloodlines with Unenhanced blood, is something that’s been high on his agenda.”
“Then why isn’t Humbert a member of the Consortium?” I query.
“She’s not quite senior enough. There are various other important councils that have no representation. Their most senior members, like Humbert, will no doubt report to Director Cromwell.”
“Well it’s perfect then,” I say. “I’ve just married up, so already have a way in. I can go and visit Humbert at the Council building, right? Manipulate her there?”
“I doubt you’d get an appointment at this late notice. In fact,” he adds, thinking to himself, “I doubt you’d get one at all. However, if you can ‘run into her’ before her meeting, then that might work. You’ll need to do so outside of the High Tower, and ideally without too many people around to see what you’re up to.”
“Right. I’ll catch her coming out of her office, before the meeting. I assume it’s the same place where I took my approval test, the building right next to Compton’s Hall?”
“That’s the one,” says Adryan. “Her office is on the top floor of the building as far as I know. We can’t be sure if she’ll be there, though. She might have business elsewhere.”
“I didn’t see anything else in her schedule in Rebecca’s head,” I say.
“And you wouldn’t. Rebecca will only know schedules for the High Tower. You’ll have to go there earlier in the day and find out from the main secretary where she is. But it’s crucial that you get to her before the meeting. She’ll be taking the lift right to the top, and she’ll be doing so alone. You won’t be able to get in with her down in the atrium.”
“I get it. I’ll have to get her to stop off at level 51, climb in, and hitch a ride with her to level 99.”
He nods, the plan coming together.
