by T. C. Edge
With our words running frantically, another boom of thunder vibrates through the building. I turn my eyes back to the storm and recall the explosion that went off only an hour or so ago.
“Did you get in touch with Lady Orlando, by the way?” I ask.
I’m thinking of my brother now. And the rest of those I care about down there. If they’re not alright, then this entire mission is folly anyway.
I’m fairly surprised when Adryan nods. My eyes widen and I jump up from the sofa.
“What did she say?! Is my brother OK?!”
“He’s fine, Brie,” he says, settling me. “By the sounds of it, the firefight down there is fairly typical of how things are. They get these sorts of attacks all the time in the northern quarter.”
Yeah, don’t I know it. The first time I went there, I got caught up in one in the black market.
“So they haven’t broken into the underlands or anything?”
“Oh no, they’re just probing, trying to round up Disposables and take down any known sympathisers out there who feed the Nameless information and such. Lady Orlando says it’s a little more aggressive than usual, but nothing they can’t handle right now.”
“Well that’s good to know. And what about the explosion, over in the eastern quarter?”
He shakes his head, his brows hovering lower.
“Looks like that was the real attack,” he says sombrely. “The attack in the northern quarter looks to be diversionary too.”
“Why? What did they hit?”
He takes a breath.
“The water treatment facility,” he says, exhaling.
“You’re kidding…”
He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to.
“But that’s where the water for all of Outer Haven is cleansed and detoxified,” I breathe. “Without it, the people won’t be able to drink the water without getting sick. It’ll kill hundreds…”
Adryan shakes his head.
“Thousands,” he says. “That’s clearly the plan. The Consortium have made the people terrified by using the Fanatics. Now they’re trying to make them even more desperate. Without clean drinking water, the people will have no choice but to submit to whatever the Consortium ask for.”
“But not if they knew!” I say loudly. “If they knew these Fanatics’ attacks were all coming from the Consortium they’d….”
“What?” cuts in Adryan. “They’d what…riot? Rebel? I don’t think so. That’s not what my studies have shown. The people will bow down and obey like they always have. And this is only going to weaken them and spread more fear.”
“But not everyone,” I counter. “If they knew how strong the Nameless were, they’d fight back, they’d join up!”
“Some, maybe. But most wouldn’t. People are sheep, Brie. When a single wolf comes prowling, they scatter in fear.”
“So what? We just let it happen?!”
“No, of course not,” he says, frowning. “What the hell do you think we’re doing here? We complete the mission, we kill Cromwell, and we destabilise the Consortium. Only then will this end. Otherwise, it’s all out war.”
His words leave a silence behind in the room, one broken only by the peppering of the rain on the windows. Once more, a steady grumble begins flowing from somewhere across the city, following seconds behind as the sky lights up with a flash from the heavens.
I drop back down to the sofa, the exhaustion now starting to take its toll. My brother wasn’t lying when he said the Consortium were closing in. Once more, they’ve used their phoney terrorist group to lay siege to the city, but this time it’s so much worse.
If the people have no water, it’ll cause widespread panic. And if that happens, Adryan is exactly right: the whole of Outer Haven will do whatever they have to do to ensure they survive.
The Fanatics have been preaching against the use of emotion, preaching for the dedication to reason and logic only. The people still think they’re nothing but worshipers of the Savants, regular Unenhanced willing to do anything to see the rest of their kind live their lives in the same manner in which the Savants do.
They don’t know the Consortium are feeding their own desires through this terrorist group. They still believe that their freedoms are real, that the Consortium wish for them to maintain their liberties.
For so long I thought the same. For so long I lived in ignorance of the reality of this place. And if I were down there now, perhaps I’d begin to fall in line as well. With no clean, purified water to drink, what choice do they have?
Things truly are getting desperate now. And right here at the heart of it all, we have no time to waste.
I turn again to Woolf, still breathing lightly on the sofa. She’s begun to shuffle occasionally now, her mind slowly lifting from the fog generated by my slashing fist.
Still staring at her, I ask my husband about the drugs he needs.
“Do you have them here now?” I ask.
He moves from the window and sits on the sofa beside me, turning his eyes to our prisoner as well.
He takes a breath and settles in a little deeper. Clearly, his own body is flagging too.
“Not here,” he says. “I’ll have to get them when the consumption level fully opens. There’s an outlet that I’ll be able to get them from.”
“What sort of drug is it? You can just, what, get it from a vending machine or something?”
He nods wearily, his head lying back.
“They’re common drugs that Savants take to help them sleep. Our minds can sometimes get too active. The drug just helps us relax, and will make Woolf more pliable. We’ll give her a dose that will only weaken her, and not make her pass out.”
“Good. I was gonna say…it wouldn’t be ideal if she collapsed in the atrium or something.”
He laughs weakly at my joke. At least he recognised it as an attempt at humour, pathetic though it was.
“The whole building will be waking in a few hours,” he says. “We should get a bit of sleep if we can…”
“And her?” I ask, nodding at Woolf.
“She’s wrapped up pretty tight. I don’t think she’s going anywhere.”
“Well, neither am I as long as she’s here. I’m not taking my eyes off her until I’ve heard from Zander and we’re ready to get her out of here. Did you mention it to Lady Orlando?”
I roll my neck on the back cushion of the sofa, and look upon his side-profile. His silver eyes are fading now, just clinging on, his chin dusted in dark stubble.
He turns his head too, and blinks slowly, nodding.
“She’ll get a message to him. We just have to wait.”
From his pocket, he pulls out the communicator, and sets it onto his lap. Then he relaxes a little deeper into the chair.
“I thought you were going to bed?” I ask.
He smiles.
“If you’re not going anywhere, neither am I.”
And sitting there together, side by side, I roll my neck a little further and drop it onto his shoulder. And despite not wanting to fall asleep, that’s exactly what I do.
104
A voice echoes inside my head. It comes from the depths, rising in intensity as it calls out, louder and louder. Gradually, it clears in my mind and forms into words.
Brie…wake up, Brie…
At first I don’t reply, considering it nothing but a dream or my own inner voice. But then, as it calls again and again, I begin to recognise the tone.
Zander. It’s Zander…
I open my eyes and find my head still nestled against Adryan’s shoulder. My eyes are heavy, my neck stiff and in need of immediate attention. Outside, the sky has turned from black to blue, the sun shining its intense rays right through the windows and into my face.
Blinking at the light, I lift my gaze to find Adryan’s eyes shut. On the opposite sofa Agent Woolf sits, her position now changed but shackles still steadfastly bound around her body.
Again, I hear my brother’s voice.
&nb
sp; Brie…wake up Brie…
Wincing at the ache in my neck I shut my eyes again, shaking away the cobwebs of sleep, and picture my brother’s face. Immediately, the telepathic channel is opened, and I project the words I want him to hear.
Zander…it’s me, I’m awake. Are you OK? Is everyone OK?
His answer comes immediately.
We’re all fine. Don’t worry. Lady Orlando told me about Agent Woolf. You need to get her to me as soon as you can. The plan will work, with the drugs. Get her to escort you to the western quarter, district 6. Park in an alley and I’ll be there.
His words rush out quickly, my semi-comatose head struggling to keep up.
The western quarter…why not the north? I ask
It’s too dangerous after last night, he tells me. Meet me in the west and I’ll take her off your hands. Go as soon as you can.
I will, I say. But there’s more, Zander. I know how to get to Cromwell. He has a meeting tomorrow on level 99. I can do it…I can finish this…
There’s a short delay.
Tomorrow…I hear him whisper. Then his voice grows in intensity. Good. That’s very good. You can tell me when I see you. For now, get Woolf the hell out of there. I’ll be waiting, Brie…
As he signs off, Adryan wakes, his eyes creaking open and squinting at the light. He looks immediately to Woolf, then up to me. His lungs empty.
“You’re awake…”
I nod, my mind working at full function now, tossing aside any lingering feelings of fatigue.
“I just spoke with Zander. He’s waiting for me. We need to get Woolf out of here immediately.”
He nods and lifts himself up off the sofa. I spare a glance at his head, his gash mostly closed but still looking tender. He does the same to me, looking guiltily upon the bruising around my neck.
Neither of us have time to draw attention to such things.
“I need to shower,” he says. “Then I’ll go straight down and get the drugs. Get her ready to leave, and see if you can do something about that bruising around her jaw.”
We set about our respective tasks. Within minutes Adryan is washed and dressed, his hair now cleansed of any remaining blood and doing enough to cover his wound. He darts straight out of the door as I apply some further lotion to Woolf’s face to ease the swelling, and set about applying some light makeup to hide the bruising.
As I work, she shuffles and mumbles beneath her shackles. Her movements are mostly dulled, though, not frantic like you’d expect them to be. Her lack of fear is clearly evident, despite her predicament. Moreover, she’s probably gone through everything in her head and concluded that thrashing like a fish isn’t going to yield any results.
The logical move, therefore, is to remain calm.
Still, she does mumble enough to make me curious. I won’t remove the tape from her eyes – no, that would be too much, considering the power that lies behind them – but I am willing to let her speak, if only to hear what she has to say.
First, I tell her to keep her voice low.
“Don’t shout, Romelia,” I warn, “or I’ll just knock you out again.”
She coolly nods her acknowledgement, and I remove the tape from her mouth.
I find it in familiar order. Her thin lips stay tight, no quiver of worry or panic set to them. Instead, they settle calmly on her face, her voice similarly cool as she speaks.
“Thank you for removing the tape, Brie,” she says. “I was having a little bit of trouble breathing.”
“Um, you’re welcome, I guess.”
“So, your plan,” she continues. “You’re going to weaken me with relaxant drugs and then set an order into my mind, forcing me to escort you out of the building and over to Outer Haven. Is that right?”
I feel as if there’s no need to lie to her. The only minor concern I have is that she could somehow communicate with someone telepathically. However, Zander told me that such a thing only happens when two people have a powerful connection.
We do because we’re twins, and hybrids too, so are able to feel emotion. I doubt that Agent Woolf has that capacity, powerful as her other gifts are. If she did, no doubt she’d have already called for help, and our door would have been kicked down long ago.
“You hit the nail on the head, Romelia,” I say calmly. “I doubt my brother will be quite as accommodating as me when he takes possession of you…”
“Brother…yes, brother,” she whispers. “I thought I saw something about that in your head. A twin. Another one, just like you. How fascinating you are, Brie. Quite the mix. Hawk, Dasher, Mind-Manipulator. You’re a true find for the Nameless, a real diamond in the rough.”
“Thanks for the compliments,” I say dryly. “Now tell me this, Romelia…do you know my parents?”
I stand before her and watch her mouth closely. It shuts slowly, her lips zipping together. Then the tiniest sliver of a smile crawls up her face, and she shakes her head.
But no words come from her, her voice locked deep down inside. I know she’s lying, hiding the truth. She knows about one of them at least. She must. But no matter. Zander will find out.
“Fine,” I say. “You keep your secrets. They won’t be safe for long when my brother gets hold of you. He’s more gifted than even you are,” I goad.
She doesn’t rise to my taunt, but merely allows that horrible smile of hers to creep just that little bit higher. She knows that it’s enough. She knows exactly how someone like me will read that expression.
And it works. I find myself turning away, unwilling to look upon her anymore.
The brief silence doesn’t take long to be broken. I hear the door opening and shutting, and see Adryan emerge from the corridor. In his hand, he carries a little bottle marked with some strange name I can’t pronounce.
He hurries over to me, looking at Woolf as he comes.
“Why is her mouth ungagged?” he asks.
“Ah, we just had a little chat. It’s nothing. So these are the pills?” I take possession of the bottle and inspect it briefly. Inside is a collection of little white capsules. “How many will we need?”
“Just one should be fine for a woman of her size. We just have to get her to swallow it.”
I turn to Woolf, who listens calmly to the conversation.
“Right, I’ll open her mouth, you shove it down her throat.”
I march straight for her. Adryan follows behind. My fingers head directly for Agent Woolf’s mouth, but stop short as she speaks.
“You don’t need to force me,” she says smoothly. “I will swallow it of my own accord.”
Adryan and I share a glance. Then he shrugs as Woolf opens her mouth, before popping the pill right onto her tongue. She tips her head back, swallows, and then opens her mouth up wide to show us that the drug has been ingested.
I’m sure to perform a more thorough inspection before I’m satisfied. The fact that it’s probably terribly uncomfortable for her is an additional benefit that gives me some pleasure.
“How long until it takes effect?” I ask, withdrawing my fingers from Woolf’s mouth, my invasion concluded.
“About quarter of an hour,” says Adryan.
“And how long do the effects last?”
“Hours. Enough to get her to comply.”
“OK. Keep a watch on her while I shower and change. I’ll, um, fold up the clothes for you.”
Right now, I’m still dressed up in his first wife’s clothing. I’ll be glad to get out of them to be honest. It feels wrong wearing her things in front of him.
He nods and begins his vigil as I quickly move off to shower and change. With an ample supply of anti-inflammatory healing lotion applied to my neck, I dress in my usual blue pants, shirt, and sweater, and return to find Adryan and Agent Woolf in complete silence.
Looking upon her mouth, I see that the tape has been reapplied.
“I didn’t like the sound of her voice,” remarks Adryan.
Clearly, she’d attempted to engage him in conver
sation, perhaps trying to see if she still had some dominion over his mind by issuing a verbal order. She doesn’t. I made sure of that last night.
By now, however, the drugs should be taking effect. Telling Adryan to stay out of reach of her sight, I tentatively remove the tape, revealing those black pits. Blinking a couple of times in the sudden light, she focuses in on me, her eyelids relaxing a little and dropping a little down over her eyes.
Then, taking a breath, I creep carefully into her consciousness to find that it’s dulled and blunted, a mounting mist seeming to hang around the place. With a rare apprehension I start to first search her memories and thoughts, just to get a feel for how open her pathways have become.
I find her to be almost as cerebrally obsequious as an Unenhanced, her mind clearly as vast and remarkable as other Savants and yet, right now, darkened and more easily influenced.
Taking the plunge, I test her out by setting an order that would otherwise never take hold were she fully in charge of her faculties. I feel it drift into her subconscious before withdrawing, unbinding her hands, moving to the kitchen, and fetching a sharp knife.
Returning to my captive, I hand her the blade. Behind me, Adryan asks: “What on earth are you doing?” His words are understandably frayed.
I don’t answer. Instead, I merely kneel before her as she sits on the sofa with the razor-sharp blade sitting in her palm. I hold my arms behind my back and lift my chin to reveal my neck, opening myself up for attack.
If she should want to strike, now would be the time.
She doesn’t do anything. Not to me, at least. Instead, with the blade in her right hand, she begins gently slicing cuts across her left forearm, one after another, until she’s completed the three that I set her to perform.
Adryan watches in silence until I retake possession of the knife, stand, and turn to him.
“She’s ready,” is all I say.
“You…made her do that?”
I nod.
“Her mind is misted and hazy. She’ll do anything I need from her.”
“Good. Then let’s get this done.”
Together, we set about unbinding Agent Woolf’s legs and wiping her left forearm clean of blood. Adryan quickly applies some healing lotion, before adding some bandages to prevent further bleeding. Then, he rolls down the left sleeve of her shirt and returns the forearm interface to its rightful position.
