by T. C. Edge
More in her eyes.
More in her face.
More life to the lines that wrinkle her skin, that morph and move to display the relief upon seeing us.
“Zander…” she whispers.
He moves quickly towards her before she can get up. She does so anyway, and he quickly takes her hand and performs a little bow.
“I’m sorry for taking so long,” he says. “It wasn’t my intention.”
“It’s OK. I’m just happy you’re safe.”
Her eyes swerve past his shoulder to me. Her relief at seeing me seems to expand. Then, she looks upon Adryan once more. I turn to him and see him staring right at her. There’s no anger to his expression. I see only respect.
“Lady Orlando,” he says, stepping straight past me. He joins Zander in front of her, yet keeps a reverent pace back. His head bows too. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”
She stretches out her hand and strokes his face, drawing him in.
“My dear boy, the pleasure is mine,” she croaks, delivering a smile. “I am so sorry for what happened.”
“No, my Lady,” says Adryan. “You did the right thing. I knew the risks. I was willing to die for this cause.”
I remain in the doorway, quite astonished by Adryan’s sense of duty. And, I can’t deny, disappointed to hear that he seems so happy to part this world. To leave us to fight.
To leave me.
“Brie…”
I lift my eyes. I didn’t even realise they’d dropped to the floor. Between the two young men, a gap opens up. Lady Orlando steps through it towards me.
“My dearest girl,” she continues. “I’m so happy to see you here, see you safe.”
She reaches me and draws me into a hug. It feels unnatural to me. Perhaps not on her part, but mine.
Is she happy to see me? Is she really? Does she truly understand what happiness is?
I stay silent.
Releasing me, she examines my face as if looking at an old friend. Then she swings her eyes back to Zander and Adryan.
“You’re all here,” she says. “It’s wonderful. Zander, pour some drinks.”
Her cranky mood appears to have abated. Yet I can’t get past the falseness of it. I can’t tell whether she really cares or not. Whether she really cares about any of us, even the boy she raised, now pouring four glasses of whiskey.
Still, in the back of my head, the word ‘Savant’ raises a flag. I can’t help it, even if Adryan is one himself. I consider him to be different, unique in his own way. Broken from the terrible spell that embraces all the rest of them.
Is she the same? Or is she just another of the many, putting on the right face, making all the right noises.
I guess I don’t know her well enough to answer that. All I know is what I’ve seen and heard. And I’m still yet to be convinced.
Zander passes out glasses of whiskey. My mind immediately turns to my guardian, to Mrs Carmichael, to Tess and the academy. I’ve had little time to consider them these last few days. But now, back here, with the tunnel back into the city so close, my mind brings them all to the fore once again.
And as we clink glasses, and Lady Orlando says a little toast to see us all safe, I know that I won’t be able to rest here. That, until all those I care about are safe, I’ll never find any sort of peace.
136
We sip the whiskey as one. That typical burning roasts my throat. Adryan coughs, not used to it. Wine, maybe, but not this stuff.
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” says Lady Orlando. “Stocks are starting to run low right now.”
As far as I’m concerned, the whiskey running out is the least of our problems. Mrs Carmichael probably isn’t thinking the same way.
There’s a strange cocktail of emotions bubbling about. Zander’s relieved to be back. Adryan’s still bowed by reverence in the presence of Lady Orlando. The Lady herself continues to thaw, happy, as she says, to have us all here.
And me? Well, I still haven’t spoken since I entered the room, afraid that I might put a foot out of place. There’s a lot I want to say. I just can’t think of a way to say it.
Mercifully, the silence is ended by Zander’s explanation of what happened, including our very recent run-in with Rhoth. He isn’t afraid to point out that our fetching of Adryan was very much my idea.
“I don’t blame you,” says Lady Orlando to me. “I suppose I didn’t give you much choice.”
The elephant in the room is awoken. I speak for the first time.
“No…you didn’t.”
“I apologise for that, Brie. But, Adryan will have told you the arrangement. Your feelings, however strong for him, can’t get in the way.”
“She’s right, Brie,” says Adryan, backing her up. “I knew what might happen. I never expected to be freed.” He reaches across and takes my hand, gently grasping my fingers within his. “But…thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” I say with a small, abashed smile. “It’s Zander who got us out.”
All eyes turn to my brother, so often the saviour. It’s a part he plays with grace. He doesn’t bask in the admiration.
“You deserved it, Adryan,” he admits, despite not wishing to put us in such peril. “You’ve been important for us, and for my sister. Let’s put it all behind us and look forward.”
We all agree in silence. Our minds turn from the past and to the future, still so uncertain.
“You appear to be mobilising,” says Adryan nodding towards the door and the many soldiers beyond it. “Do you have some plan of attack?”
“Plans are still being formulated,” says Zander. “Brie’s assassination attempt was plan A. We have been working on plan B.”
“And I guess that doesn’t involve such subterfuge?” I question. “I mean, more of a straight out attack, right?”
“Correct,” says Zander. “Cromwell is now well aware of our designs for him, and we’ve lost the advantage of surprise. However, he doesn’t know about Commander Burns. At least, we hope he doesn’t.”
“Commander Burns?” questions Adryan.
Zander looks to me.
“He doesn’t know yet,” I say.
“Know…what?” asks Adryan. Then, his sharp mind kicks in, along with a frown. “Burns is your man on the inside?” he asks. “The man to supplant Director Cromwell?”
“Yes,” says Zander. “We didn’t tell you before in case you were taken and your mind examined. It turns out, that was the prudent move.”
Adryan nods his agreement.
“And, I assume that’s why Commander Fenby needed to be eliminated? To open up a slot in the Consortium for Burns to step into?”
Zander nods again.
“Smart,” says Adryan. “It’s common for the Commanders of the City Guard to assume the Director’s chair when it becomes available. But…why would you expect Burns to be promoted after such a short stint in the Consortium? Fenby had been there for years, and was clearly next in line. But Burns?”
It’s time for Lady Orlando to speak. We all drop our eyes to her wizened old face.
“Leyton Burns is a very gifted Mind-Manipulator, Adryan. His time as Deputy Commander afforded him a unique position where he could seed his control over the Consortium in a very subtle manner. He’s done so very slowly, over many years. Should Cromwell have been killed, he would have assumed the chair. All the pieces were in place.”
“So now what?” I ask, diverting attention from my failure. “Are you still trying to kill him?”
“Of course. As long as he’s alive, we’re not safe.”
“And this isn’t something that Commander Burns can do himself?” questions Adryan.
“It wouldn’t be prudent for the new Director to have seen to the death of his predecessor,” says Lady Orlando bluntly. “I know just what you’re thinking Adryan – that Leyton could utilise his position, and gifts, to see to Cromwell’s end. However, it’s not as simple as that.”
“He said tha
t to me,” I say. “He said that it would always come back to him.”
“And he’s right. It’s too much of a risk. We are considering all possible avenues, but unless Artemis puts himself into a position where we can get to him directly, I’m not sure that Leyton can help from where he is. Even his mental manipulations might be tracked should he mess with the wrong person.”
It’s not surprising. The opportunity I had to take him out was like a blue rose, never to be rediscovered. I had my chance and failed to take it. Now, his defences are up, and he’s become a far more potent adversary.
“You have to stop blaming yourself, sis.”
I turn to Zander. Even without looking into my eyes, he’s read me, knows just what I’m thinking.
“I’m not…”
“You can’t fool me,” smiles my brother. “You did everything you could. We’ll find another way, don’t worry.”
I get further words of support from Lady Orlando.
“Brie, my child,” she whispers. “You did wonderfully.”
“But it wasn’t enough,” I drone.
“No…and for that I blame myself. I set you this task, and I take the blame for its failure. I should have seen all ends. I should have seen Agent Woolf coming. I should have figured it out, but I didn’t. But we move on. Failure is nothing but a speed bump to success. We will be victorious, dearest Brie. We will, I assure you.”
Her words help to take some weight off me. I hoover a breath into my lungs and quickly blow it out, exorcising myself off the shame of my failure.
“Good,” says Lady Orlando, sliding her index finger down my chin. “Now keep that up, all the way up. Seeing you all here is a great victory. Artemis will not be happy about that. He’s lost you, Brie, his prize. And he’s been denied the chance of seeing Adryan punished. If he feels any emotion, and I know he does despite what he says, then it’s anger and disappointment. They will be strong in him right now.”
She smiles a natural smile, and the same is drawn up my face. The idea of Cromwell, stewing over our escape, is a rather appealing one for us both.
And now my mind, once again, reverts to my friends, trapped over in Outer Haven as it descends into panic. I pose the question: “What’s been happening in the city?” and see the smile drop straight off Lady Orlando’s face.
“Our reports suggest that it’s getting desperate. People are looting, fighting in the streets. There’s civil unrest.”
“I’ve checked in on Mrs Carmichael for you, Brie,” adds Zander. “She and the children are safe at the academy for now. You know how well prepared she is. She has stocks of food and water to last a while.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of. Others might know too. They might come and try to take what she has.”
“At an academy for orphans? I don’t think people are that desperate yet.”
“You’d be surprised, Zander. What if the Disposables see an opportunity? What if they start spreading down from the northern quarter? I’ve seen them lingering around at night in the alleys. They’ve been coming for a while to mug and burgle. Now’s a prime opportunity for them to take what they can.”
“The streets are under heavy occupation by the City Guards and Con-Cops,” says Lady Orlando. “But, as we know, they’re not exactly helping matters much, given their directive. The sheer scale of their numbers isn’t putting people off, and while many are being willingly taken to this new reconditioning facility, many others are being rounded up for their crimes and shipped to the REEF. Artemis is taking people left and right. If they’re not willingly giving in, he’s snatching them up by force.”
I think for a moment, imagining the streets I grew up in so under threat, so squeezed of life.
“I want to go and get them,” I say. “Brenda won’t last long with all this going on, and nor will the kids. They need to be given sanctuary…”
“We have no provisions for that, sis,” says Zander. “Not for all of them. If we gathered up every family member and friend of our members here, we’d be too overburdened. In any case, your guardian seemed adamant that she wasn’t going anywhere. She’s keeping strong for her kids.”
I know that about her. She’s stubborn, and not likely to run away from a fight. And Tess, too, is sure to be supporting her. I’ve seen neither of them since I left for the High Tower on my mission. I wonder if they know what happened. I wonder if they think I’m dead.
I put the question to my brother. He tells me that he assured Mrs Carmichael that I’d be safe. I suppose, even then, he knew he was all set to break me out.
“And what about Drum?” comes a further query from my lips. “And Sophie and Rycard?”
“They’re still in the underlands,” says Zander. “Rycard has been helpful.”
“And Drum? Has he been given a gun and a uniform yet?”
“He’s joined up as part of our reserve forces, keeping a watch on the underlands.”
“So, a sentry post then?”
“More or less.”
I don’t like it. If the Stalkers break through, he’ll be the first in the firing line. But what can I do? I have no power to tell him what to do. I have no power over anything here. I have to shield my mind from such feelings, mute the fear I feel for my friends.
I have to be a soldier here, and follow orders.
I have to comply.
So, instead of kicking up a fuss as I usually would, I merely nod and say: “OK.”
“And, how close are they to discovering your hideouts?” asks Adryan.
Lady Orlando and Zander share a look.
“They’re close,” says Zander. “We’re currently at Level 3 in our state of emergency.”
“And that means?”
“It means we’re ready to move at any moment. We have to be mobile and flexible. We have routes out of our main locations in the underlands that will give our people passage north beyond the city. But, few places are safe right now. With so much attention on us, some have chosen to return to Outer Haven…”
“You’re kidding?” I say.
“They think they’ll be safer there, more anonymous.”
“And how do you police all that?” questions Adryan. “If these people know the routes into the underlands, then they’re risks to you if they’re found.”
“You’re right,” says Lady Orlando. “They are. But we only allow people out if they’re adamant about leaving. In such a case, Zander or another of our manipulators will erase their memories of this place and set them out there with an empty head. Mostly, that alone serves to put them off the idea.”
“But,” adds Zander, “it isn’t the worst thing. Yes, we’re trying to save people here, but with everything that’s been happening, it’s not easy taking care of so many and giving them refuge. We have to prioritise those who can fight.”
The idea doesn’t sit well with me, but I can’t deny its logic. When the entire city is under threat, difficult decisions need to be made, and caring for the old and infirm who cannot contribute is a burden that, I’m sure, the Nameless could do without.
“And, where beyond the city do the tunnels lead?” I ask.
“There’s an old mining facility far to the north that we’ve been retrofitting for use as a sanctuary of sorts,” says Lady Orlando. “It will be safer for our people there. Getting there, however, won’t be so easy. It’s a long, long trek. As you’ve now met Rhoth, you’ll know the sorts of people who await us out there.”
“He wasn’t so bad,” I suggest.
“And he’s the best of the bunch,” cuts in Zander. “The Fangs mostly occupy the territory to the west of here. However, to the north, it’s the Bear-Skins and Skullers who dominate. They’re more feral, and far less cordial. And aside from them, Shadows crawl the lands north of here. We only have means of getting our people there on foot. It will be a buffet unless they’re properly protected, and right now we can hardly spare the manpower.”
“Sounds like a catch-22,” murmurs Adryan. “What l
evel do you need to reach in your state of emergency before you send people to the mines?”
Zander glances at Lady Orlando. She’s been sipping on her whiskey with a consistency that reminds me very much of Mrs Carmichael.
“Level 4,” he says. “It’s just a matter of time…”
The room falls to silence. My mind swims with everything I’ve heard. Yet still, there’s much more to be said.
But not here.
Looking towards the clock, ticking quietly above the fireplace, Lady Orlando speaks.
“It’s time, Zander. Go ahead and let them know.”
Zander nods and moves straight to the door. Lady Orlando addresses us.
“You asked earlier if we’re mobilising, Adryan,” she says, looking to the door and the large gathering beyond. “The assembly you saw in the church will help us determine just that. Come, we have a meeting to attend.”
137
Following Zander through the door, I hear his voice calling out for attention as the hundred-plus members of the Nameless all turn to see Lady Orlando emerge. A hush descends as she creaks in on her skinny old legs, and Adryan and I follow behind, moving off to one side as she scans the gathering.
I do the same, and in the background see a couple of familiar faces. The first is middle-aged, topped with a balding dome and with sleek eyes hidden behind spectacles. I recall his name: Walter, the chemist who helps create the suppressor drugs that hybrids use to conceal their powers.
It was he who Mrs Carmichael used to meet and fetch the drugs from; the drugs she fed me to keep my powers from manifesting. I wonder, now, what my life would be like had I never discovered the truth.
If I hadn’t been involved in that attack by the Fanatics at Culture Corner, then I wouldn’t have been up on that stage in Inner Haven, on display for the whole city to see. Zander would never have recognised me, or found me, and I’d have continued on thinking I was just another normal girl.
I wonder, too, how much impact I’ve had. How much I’ve actually contributed. Perhaps, by failing to kill Cromwell, I’ve done more harm than good. Perhaps it would have been better for everyone if I’d never been unearthed.
