by T. C. Edge
“But why did it take you so long to return? We knew you’d been successful, in disabling the sonic machine at least, when it went off. We’d hoped to hear from you soon after that, but no one did. No one saw you. Did you rest out there? Did you have trouble getting back to the city?”
“Trouble, yes,” says my twin, eyes scanning once more. “We went to the REEF, Lady Orlando.” I see her brow crease, along with Adryan’s. “We…we were tracking Cromwell.”
“Cromwell?! He’s alive?”
“You didn’t know?”
She shakes her head.
“Last word we got was of his convoy being attacked. Guards were sent out to search, and they found only a wreckage and a host of dead Stalkers. But…no body. I thought he’d either been captured or killed elsewhere, trying to escape.”
“He escaped all right. We made sure of that,” I say.
“You what?” exclaims Adryan. “You were there?”
“Yeah, dumb luck that we were. Or, bad luck depending on how you look at it. We were going there to use the underlands to get out of the city, ran into his convoy, and managed to get him away from the Cure’s soldiers…”
“Then we were chased through to the underground river,” says Zander, taking up the tale, “and ended up way outside the southern gate. Cromwell…he almost drowned.”
“And Zander saved him,” I add.
He nods.
“Well, we both saved him several times, really. Kept him alive, put him in a cave…” I catch eyes with my brother, and see the memory of our conversation there flash. The very moment he learned of his true heritage. He blinks the thought away, and gets back on track. “Um, yeah, we got him to a safe place and went off to take care of the Cure’s little base. Took out the machine, Elementals, and then headed right back.”
“And Cromwell wasn’t there,” I say, snatching the story back. “We thought he’d been captured by Cure soldiers, but realised he hadn’t when we learned we were tracking them to the REEF. We were too tired to do much more than walk. Took a while. Got there and…”
Zander’s stare halts my words. I’d lost control of their volume again.
“And?” asks our grandmother.
“And,” whispers Zander. “I think we’d better talk somewhere private. We…we heard that Colonel Hatcher came here with some Stalkers. And Agent Woolf got here too?”
“Um, yes, Mrs Blackwater and Mr Linney as well. They made it after their convoy was attacked too, just like Artemis’. Romelia Woolf came with them last night. Colonel Hatcher arrived some hours ago.”
“And where is he?” grimaces Zander.
Lady Orlando’s eyes shape themselves into a narrow frame at the tension in Zander’s voice.
“He’s…” she begins, looking around the room as if expecting to see him.
She doesn’t need to answer. Because before she catches sight of him, I do so myself.
Emerging from the rear of the room, through a door that leads to both the infirmary, basement, and the storage facilities on the floors below, I see him come. He steps into the main foyer, his midsection bandaged and bloodied, his head the same and drenched red on the left. His face is painted with flecks of blood and soot, his eyes intense as they search the interior and land on us. They narrow at the sight of us, and I feel my legs firm and plant heavily to the floor, and my hand instinctively reach down to grip the handle of my holstered pistol.
He begins walking towards us in his mechanical manner, though a little more gingerly than usual owing to his wounds. One hand rests on his side, clutching it in pain. The other works to fix his radio back to his belt. It’s clear he’s just been using it. Has he been talking with Cromwell?
My eyes shift to Zander. His shift to mine. I hear his voice in my head.
Stay calm, he says. Don’t reveal anything. Let this play out.
I blink my understanding and we look back at the colonel. A few more paces, and he’s with us, bringing a gruff voice along with him.
“Well, what a thing to see you two back here,” he says, his voice hoarse from overuse and smoke inhalation. He coughs a few times, grimacing as he does so. “What happened to you both? You got your job done in the outerlands, that much was clear. Where were you after? We all thought you were dead.”
This time, I’m happy to let Zander talk. His mind is just lively enough to think some lie up on the spot.
“We were engaged in fighting with the Cure beyond the city walls,” he says. “Took us a long time to get back.”
I glance at Lady Orlando and Adryan. My eyes tell them to keep their mouths shut.
“I see. Well, I’m happy to see you both. You two keep surprising me.”
He manages a smile that appears natural, if brief. And while Zander’s lie was delivered convincingly, it seems of little point, nothing but posturing.
Surely Hatcher already knows we were at the REEF? Surely he’s been informed by his master?
He steps a little forward, coughing again. I scan his wounds and ask him what happened, trying to maintain a casual enough tone to my voice.
“War happened, Brie,” he grunts. “Got my left ear blown off by shrapnel. Took another heavy piece to the gut. Came here to get treated.”
“Oh? You’ve been in the infirmary?” I ask.
“Since this afternoon,” he says. “I’ve been arranging the Stalkers from here.” He taps his radio. “Though, it’s not the same. I want to be out there.”
“I know the feeling,” says Zander.
“And, um…how many do you have left?” I ask. “Stalkers, I mean.”
“Not sure of exact numbers. One drops every so often, but we’re holding firm all round. Right, Lady Orlando?”
“Right,” she says coolly.
“Any around here then?” I ask, laughing to hide my nerves.
“Any…what?” asks Hatcher.
“Stalkers?” I smile.
He shakes his head.
“None.”
I look at Zander. He takes up the conversation.
“Really? We heard you’d come here with three others?”
“I did. I was wounded. They came with me from the outerlands after our mission. They brought me here and went straight back out there to fight. My Stalkers don’t take rest until they’re dead, Zander.”
“I’m sure they don’t.”
“And I’m not sure I like this inquisition. Do you have something to say to me, young man? You appear to have something on your mind.”
Zander stares right at him. The rest of us play conversation tennis, eyes jumping from one man to the other and back again.
“Nothing, Colonel Hatcher. I’m just very tired and trying to fill in the blanks. I’ve been out of the loop since last night. My radio was broken, you see, in the outerlands.”
“Hmmmm. Well, we all have things we’d like to know. I suppose you’re aware that Director Cromwell is missing, most likely captured by the enemy, or killed.”
“I…yes, I’ve just been informed. Who, then, leads your army?”
“Well, we have two Consortium members left, not that their titles mean much now. As far as I see it, Lady Orlando here leads us all. The rule of Haven has passed to her.”
I watch Hatcher closely. Is he for real? Does he really not know that Cromwell is alive and well? Does he really intend to be loyal to Lady Orlando? Or…is this just part of Cromwell’s plan? Is he merely playing along right now, acting ignorant of the truth, ready to strike when the order is given.
Honestly, I find it impossible to tell. He’s a hard man to read, and any brief eye contact I get with him yields no joy as I attempt to infiltrate his mind. All I can go on is the feeling I draw from his body, that preternatural sense of someone’s emotional state. He is, as always, calm and collected and entirely detached from an emotional perspective. He could very well be lying or telling the total truth. I cannot possibly know.
At that moment, his radio begins to buzz and hiss. He reaches down and snaps it up as a tinn
y voice crackles down the line. The words are tricky to decipher at first hearing, but as he picks up the radio and wanders off, I note that the sounds of heavy battle are very close by.
“One of his Stalkers?” I whisper to Zander.
“Sounds like it.”
“This makes no sense. He doesn’t seem to know anything.”
“No…he doesn’t. But we can’t trust him either.”
“Are you suggesting the colonel is a threat?” asks Lady Orlando.
We all look at Hatcher, now marching gingerly around the other side of the hall. He has tremendous hearing, I know, but while in conversation, and with the room so loud, I’m certain he cannot hear us.
“Yes,” says Zander plainly. “Where is Marler?”
“Oh, yeah,” I say. “Wasn’t he assigned to protect you?”
“He was, and is,” says Lady Orlando. “He’s merely having a comfort break. I’m perfectly safe here for now. He’ll be back momentarily.”
“Well, no more comfort breaks unless you’re right there with him,” says Zander. I ignore the rather unpleasant image. “Where you go, he goes. Understand?”
Her frown deepens.
“That’s been the case so far, mostly. I don’t consider Colonel Hatcher to be a worry, though, Zander. What has given you this idea.”
“We’ll explain in private. Where’s Woolf?”
“She’s with the remaining members of the Consortium.”
“And where are they?”
“Up a few floors.”
“And they’re under watch, I assume,” asks my brother firmly.
“Yes, of course. They’re locked in and there are two guards outside who are known to be quite capable of repelling mind manipulation. We’re not taking any chances with Agent Woolf again, no matter the alliance we have.”
“Alliance. Pfft,” I mutter.
My grandmother looks at me and raises her eyes.
“For goodness sake, enough of this cloak and dagger nonsense. Speak to me plainly, you two. What exactly did you find at the REEF?”
“Nothing that will shock you, Cornelia,” I say, remembering our last meeting. She asked us to call her Cornelia. Right now, it flows off the tongue a little more than her official title, though I’d rather just call her grandma…
A hint of a grin appears.
“Right. Well, let’s just see about that. Now come, we can talk in the stockroom. And this news better not disappoint.”
270
As Colonel Hatcher continues to receive information from his men, and pass on appropriate orders, my brother, grandmother, husband and I begin working our way to the back of the room.
As we go, Zander stops at one of the technicians and grabs his attention.
“When Marler returns, tell him to head immediately for the weapons stock room. Understand?”
“Yes, sir. Of course.”
We continue on, slipping away as quickly as we can manage without drawing attention from Colonel Hatcher. Though, with the room raging as it is, our rushing bodies aren’t anything out of the ordinary.
We reach the door at the rear of the main hall and pass through, moving down a set of stairs and into the area used for storage. Here, the locker room for the members of the City Guard awaits, along with stock rooms filled with fresh supplies of uniforms, armour, and various kinds of weaponry.
We pass down a corridor and through a locked door, Adryan punching in a code to open it. Inside, the shelves and stacks of pulse rifles, machine guns, pistols, and other powerful arms have grown sparse. Most have already been handed out for operation, it would appear.
The room is cool, and the world suddenly quiet. As the heavy metal door shuts, locking out the outside world, Adryan sets about fashioning a bench for Lady Orlando to sit on from one of the grenade containers. He leads her to it and sits her down. She does so with a minor slant of difficultly, her knees creaking as they bend.
I smile at Adryan, so attentive and sweet. He’d make such a good husband, if our marriage becomes real one day. He’d make such a good father too…
“OK, right then,” comes my grandmother’s voice as she settles her old bones down. “Let’s hear it. No delaying. No one else can hear us down here.”
Zander doesn’t seem entirely sure, but I suppose he’d be suspicious of just about anything right now, given the night we’ve had.
He clears his throat.
“You know the rumours about the REEF. Secret soldiers being developed. Stalkers Mark II sort of thing. Well, those rumours have more weight now…”
“You saw them?” queries Adryan.
“No, not directly. We tracked Cromwell to the REEF, found it abandoned. Climbed the wall, no guards or soldiers or anyone topside. A couple of soldiers came up in an industrial lift from the southern building in the compound, and we overheard them speaking. Their conversation was…indicting.”
“Very,” I add. “They were talking about letting us duke it out with the Cure, weaken ourselves, how we had it all coming for blowing up the High Tower.” I notice my grandmother wince at the thought. Somewhere deep, that decision still haunts her. “We didn’t get a chance to go down into the labs, or whatever might be down there, but we took control of the two guards’ minds and found loads of security in their heads. They’re hiding something, and it’s obvious what.”
“Yes,” says Zander, lifting a hand to cool my tongue. “What we believe is that Cromwell has a secret force, and is preparing to unleash it when the time is right. His Stalkers and Con-Cops in the city right now may have some deep programming to turn against us too. He will stage a coup and retake Inner Haven, killing us or taking us captive in the process…”
“Ah, I see,” muses Lady Orlando. She doesn’t appear overly surprised by the news. She knows her old husband too well to be surprised by anything he might do. “And, hence the distrust of Colonel Hatcher. You believe he was sent here by Artemis to assassinate me? To ensure the path is clear for Artemis’ transition?”
“Precisely,” says Zander. “Though, not everything is adding up.”
“No, it isn’t,” says Lady Orlando. “The colonel came here with some nasty wounds, seemingly with no objective other than to get some medical attention. He came with three Stalkers, but they left immediately as soon as he was escorted here safely. Other than him, Woolf, and the two remaining members of the Consortium, all those behind the walls of Inner Haven are known loyalists to our cause.”
“And we need to keep it that way,” I say. “No one loyal to Cromwell can pass. No one.”
“And, if we need to pull back and defend from Inner Haven?” asks Adryan. “What if the Cure advance further?”
“Well, then…look, I don’t know. I’m not a military strategist. I just know what I saw, and I know what Cromwell is capable of. I’ve been saying it all along - he’s feeding us lies and working us around his little finger. But we’re one step ahead of him now. We know what he’s got planning…”
“Yeah,” rumbles Zander’s voice pensively. “We do. And yet, nothing’s changed here. It doesn’t make much sense, does it?”
“What are you getting at, Zander?” asks Adryan.
“I’m getting at the fact that, the way it went out at the REEF, they know full well that we were both there. We literally ran away, and they know we interrogated those guards. Put two and two together, and if you’re on Cromwell’s side, you know full well that we’re onto you. And yet…here we are, hours later. We were never chased from the REEF that I know of. The Stalkers had us in sight, and let us go. The way we were, they could have hunted us down, but they didn’t. We had ten miles to trek back to the city, and we wandered back without hindrance. Then, we get back, and we find that we’re all still fighting together, side by side, as allies. Cromwell must know that we’re here, right now, spreading word of his secret plot. And yet, nothing’s changing. The Stalkers came here, and went. Hatcher seems to be unaware that Cromwell’s even alive. None of this is adding up.”
&
nbsp; A short silence follows his words. We begin thinking, trying to work through it, figure out just what the hell Cromwell’s doing. As it stands, it appears as though his presence at the REEF is being kept secret from his men. Either that, or Colonel Hatcher is lying through his teeth, and biding his time to attack.
But there’s one thing that’s bothering me.
“What about this threat of Cromwell’s?” I ask. “You know, the whole - if you kill me, my men will attack. Is that all just rubbish? Is he full of shit like I thought he was?”
“Well, he’s alive, isn’t he?” says Adryan. “So why would you doubt it?”
“Because of Hatcher,” I say. “If Colonel Hatcher really did think that Cromwell was dead, then surely he’d have expected all the Stalkers and Con-Cops to turn on us, right? Clearly they didn’t. So, if - and that’s a big if - Hatcher believed it, then he must know that this whole programming thing is a lie.”
“Ah, I see what you’re getting at,” says Adryan. “The way I see it, there are two options then. One - Colonel Hatcher does think Director Cromwell is dead, and therefore the whole activation protocol in their programming was just a bluff. Two - Colonel Hatcher is lying about thinking Cromwell is dead, and the activation protocol remains a real threat.”
“There’s another option,” adds Lady Orlando coolly. “Artemis, to Colonel Hatcher’s mind, might just have been captured and not killed. We were unable to find his body, after all. I’m sure the Cure would love him as a prize.”
“Lots of options, sure,” says Zander with a hint of impatience. “None of it matters, though.”
“It does matter!” I counter. “It helps us work out if Colonel Hatcher is lying or not.”
“How? Unless we get into his mind, we won’t know whether he’s fully aware that Cromwell is alive, and has been in direct contact with him, or whether he’s just as out of the loop as everyone else is. We need to work with facts, only, and not speculation. Yet, it’s important we put things in place to ensure that we don’t run into any nasty surprises.”
