Variant

by T. C. Edge

  "I'm...not sure yet," I said, looking at the map. "I guess I have a couple of days to figure it out."

  "We have a couple of days," retorted Becca. "But I think we both know what you're planning already."

  She shared a look. There was little point in dancing around it. "I want to be there," I nodded, happy to admit it. "I want to be near at least when it all goes down." I looked at the map again. "It would help if I had a hint or two, though. Some way to try to narrow it down."

  "Hmmm, might not be easy," she said. "There must be a hundred places they could be meeting."

  "Maybe not that many," I said, "but definitely a lot." I thought for a moment, pacing in front of the screen. "They'll probably scout the area, I'm thinking. If the meeting point is set, Carson is likely to head over there a few times to get a feel for it." I looked over at Becca, who began to nod. "What do you think?"

  "I think we just need to watch and wait," she said. "We track his movement and that will give us a good idea."

  "Right. That can be your job, while I continue to tweak my designs. Do you think you're OK to go to work?"

  "Of course I can go to work," she said. "You said this Rest-Less drug is for Variants only, right?"

  I nodded.

  "Well then, I think it's pretty obvious why it didn't affect me too badly." Her lips bunched into a grin. I could already see it coming.

  "Because you're part Variant," I said, fake-yawning.

  She cocked her head to the side. "How much more proof do you need?"

  I managed a weary chuckle. The idea of spending hours in the warehouse right now wasn't very appealing.

  "Though," Becca went on, her eyes looking off pensively at the screen, "maybe I should stay here today? Or even tomorrow as well. Carson said I could say I had food poisoning or something, right? I can call the doctor to my unit, get the thumbs up, and then sneak back down here to keep watch." She looked at me, hopeful. "What do you think?"

  "I think it's just a pathetic excuse to skive," I said, shaking my head at her. "But, seriously, it's up to you, Becs. If you think you can fool the doctor, go for it. I'll pay you for the credits you miss out on at work, of course."

  "Yeah, I should think so. The amount you've made dealing parts, you're probably loaded by now." She grinned. "You're really OK with it, though? You look pretty tired. You don't want me at work, you know, watching over you?"

  "That's sweet, Becs, really. But it should be you being looked after today, not me. I can handle it. If I need to take a pinch of Rest-Less, I will."

  "So long as you don't get addicted. You know my feelings about that, Paige." She sounded like my mother.

  "I do," I said. "And I won't."

  "Then...it looks like we have a plan."

  I looked to the clock once more. It was still fairly early, but people would be rising soon. The first port of call was to get Becca home and tucked up in bed for the doctor's arrival. She had a good record, so he shouldn't suspect foul play.

  "Right, let's get out of here, then," I said. I quickly marched to the screen, and reconfigured it so that half of it was displaying the interactive map, and the other half displayed the camera images so Becca could safely keep watch. "OK, that should do. I'll have to take you through everything later on, teach you how to use it all. You might as well get an education while you're with me, right?"

  "Sure. Free education? Why not."

  She slipped from the bed, seeming a tad unsteady on her feet. Looking at her, it didn't seem like she'd have to go too far to convince the doctor she was ill.

  Keeping the bed where it was, I quickly tidied up the rest of the place, though left the screen on. I handed Becca the keys and pulled my coat tight, looking at the camera images to make sure no one was around.

  "OK, coast is clear," I said. "You sure you're OK to walk?"

  She nodded. "I think I can handle it, Paige. But, with all this, I was thinking..."

  I raised my eyes. "Yes?"

  "Well, I know I joked before about being your eyes in the sky, your 'person in the chair', but maybe..." she shrugged. "...maybe that could be true, you know?"

  "Well, yeah, I don't see why not."

  She grinned generously. "And, I was also thinking about those communicators the custodians use. They're built into their helmets, right? Well, could you make something like that, something so we could communicate when I'm here, and you're out there. Like, on Saturday, I could be here watching the screen and giving you updates on Carson's location. I could actually be of some help, you know."

  Her enthusiasm was endearing, her excitement so genuine. The fact that she had a little frown over her eyes as she spoke, as though terrified I'd say no, spoke volumes about her desire to help and be involved. I could never deny her that now, even if I wanted to. In fact, the idea was a good one. No matter who we were, as Ford has said, we could all use some support.

  "Becs," I said, grabbing her shoulders to calm her, "I think it's a fantastic idea." Her smile lit the room, casting away that sickly look on her face. "I'll look into a few designs later. Hopefully I'll have the time to knock something together."

  And with that, after a long day and night without rest, or Rest-Less, another long day began.

  28

  "OK, what have you got for me today?"

  I stepped into the safe-house to find Becca in her chair, a position she'd been manning for the last couple of days. It was Friday evening now and she'd taken the last two days off work, her unimpeachable attendance record playing in her favour. Saturday was a working day as well. I already knew she was going to try to extend her absence.

  "Some interesting stuff, actually," she said, turning to look at me from her chair, as I took off my raincoat and hung it on a hook by the door. It was raining hard outside, and according to the latest forecasts, the weather was only going to get worse. For me, it was a positive. I always found it easier sneaking around in the rain.

  "Right, go on."

  I grabbed a small towel from the little bathroom and ran it through my soaking hair, drying it as Becca filled me in.

  "Carson's been on the move today," she said, sounding quite excited.

  She had a small tablet in her hand, which could be used to control the screen and computer system without having to use the panel on the wall. She tapped a few times, and the interactive map on the screen zoomed in, moving to an area across the river from the Eastbends.

  "Right," she said, "you see this area." She ran her finger around the tablet, then tapped again, highlighting a specific section on the screen. She was quickly growing more proficient with the tech, picking things up faster than I'd anticipated. "It's a mostly abandoned part of the city, even further east of the slums. Used to be called Greenwich." She turned to me. "You ever been over there?"

  I shook my head, but knew the name. The city of London was once much larger than the area it now covered, the global collapse significantly reducing its population and size. That area to the east of the Bends was once hugely populated, but now most of the lands out that way were in ruin, never brought back to health after the wars.

  "Never had any need to," I said. "The city limits are over that way. It's quite well watched by the custodians and border guards."

  "Right," she said, nodding. "But not all areas are closely watched." She zoomed in a little further, highlighting a specific location. It appeared to be a stadium of some kind, probably largely in ruin now. "Carson came here earlier," she said. "He spent at least two hours in the vicinity, as though scouting it out."

  She brought up a history of Carson's movement that day, his little red dot drawing a zigzagging, squiggly line within a small, tight space inside the old arena. In the corner of the screen, it showed the corresponding time, minutes ticking by and turning to hours as Carson searched and scouted the area.

  He seemed to stop on several occasions, staying within a specific place for several minutes at a time. "Why do you think he's stopping?" I mused.

  "Not sure. Checki
ng vantage points, maybe? Or perhaps some of Mantis or Ursula's soldiers were also there, checking the area. Maybe he was hiding somewhere?"

  I nodded, pursing my lips. "Possibly," I said. I looked at my friend with a smile. "You're getting good at this, Becs. You're a natural."

  She shrugged, pushing her glasses up her nose. She didn't really have the look of a field agent or soldier, but she certainly fit the bill as an analyst. "Thanks," she said. "I do quite enjoy it, I must say."

  "It shows," I said, finishing drying my hair and leaving the towel over my shoulder. "So, you're thinking this is where the meeting will take place, in the ruins of this old stadium?"

  She nodded, looking at the map once more. "It feels right to me," she said. "I'm no expert, obviously, but I imagine they'll be meeting to discuss things on neutral territory. This place seems appropriate. It's run by neither Mantis nor Ursula, and there's little surveillance there either. If Mantis is trying to keep this one to himself, and not involve the Controller, then that would make sense."

  "It would," I agreed, "though as far as Ford explained it to me, it would be Ursula who chose the location."

  "Well, that makes sense too," Becca went on. "Ursula would want somewhere far from Mantis's strongholds, in case something went wrong. Here, there will be lots of escape routes if that happened."

  I thought about it for a while, folding my arms as I looked at the screen. "OK," I said eventually. "OK, that sounds good. Great job, Becs. We'll keep an eye on what happens tonight and tomorrow, and see if we can learn anything more. I guess you're planning to stay off work for one more day?"

  "If you think I can get away with it," she nodded. "Is Beecham OK with me not being there still?"

  "Well, it's not really up to him, is it," I said, stepping over towards the bed. "The doctor signed you off, so nothing Beecham can do. It's all right, though, I've been trying to pick up the slack in your absence. Been hitting good numbers over the last two days, actually."

  "Really? That's not like you," she grinned. "I thought you'd be demotivated there, given everything that's been happening."

  "So did I, but for some reason, I've been working well. I kinda like knowing you're back here, keeping an eye on things. It's good to have you in my corner, Becs."

  "It's good to be here," she said grandly. "I just wish it could become a full time gig. Perhaps we should move to the Bends, start our own little gang. We don't need the VLA. Just you me, and your mum." She winked. "Dream team."

  I laughed lightly, as I began reconfiguring the bed into its workstation setting.

  "And Ford, of course," she added after a brief pause. "Maybe we could snipe him from the VLA too. Doesn't sound like he's got the best relationship with his dad."

  I stepped back into the bathroom to hang the towel, before pulling up my swivel chair and taking a seat. I turned to Becca, relaxing into it. There was something very appealing about this entire set up. With a bit of funding, we could make a good little team.

  "You know what parents are like," I said. "They can be overbearing. I guess Ford has just rebelled a bit against his domineering father. Doesn't mean they don't love each other or anything. To the contrary, I thought Carson just seemed worried about Ford mostly."

  "And you?" she asked. "Are you worried about him?"

  I frowned. "How do you mean? He can handle himself. More than handle himself, actually..."

  "That's not what I meant. I mean, you guys. The two of you. There's...a thing between you, right? Don't you want to see him again?"

  I looked at her blankly. "You know I do, Becs. We trained well together. He was fun to be around."

  "Then why hasn't he been in touch?" she asked, glancing at the screen. "There's been no message, Paige. Nothing. He really should be making a better effort. It's been, what, four days? Didn't he say he'd be in touch, come by and see you by now?"

  "Yeah, but that was before the whole thing with his dad. I imagine he's been told not to come see me, or even message me. His dad thinks I'm a distraction for him."

  Becca cocked a brow. "With those sultry looks?" she said. "He's probably got a point. But, frankly, that's not good enough. If Ford really liked you, whether as a friend or..." she raised her eyes suggestively, "...something more, then he'd at least let you know what's going on."

  I shook my head.

  "You don't agree?"

  "No," I said. "At a time like this, no, I don't. Ford is first and foremost a soldier. If his superior officer, whether that's his dad, or Harkin, gives him an order, then he has to obey it. His duty must come first. And that's the way it should be, at least for now."

  "For now? You mean, until Mantis is caught?"

  I nodded. "After that, we'll see how things shake out. But Mantis has to be our focus." I looked at her directly. "All of us."

  She drew back a little in her chair, apparently understanding. I didn't want to talk about Ford right now, and was making that patently clear. I had other things on my mind that needed my full attention.

  She returned for a moment to look at the screen, as I drew out my latest designs and modifications with an eye to making further headway that night. I swivelled in my chair, lining things up. My weapons, stealth suit, and armour had seen some useful upgrades, though needed field testing to confirm their worth. I had also mocked up a possible design for a communicator, which would allow Becca and I to stay in contact when I was out and about.

  I picked up the current prototype, turning around to show it to her. "What do you think?" I asked. "Simple but effective."

  She stood from her chair and came over, taking ahold of the little earpiece. It was small enough that it could insert right into the ear and out of sight. "I just...put it in my ear?" she asked.

  "Sure, go ahead and try it, see how it fits."

  She did so, popping it inside. Then she turned her head to the side, so I could see how well concealed it was.

  "How does it feel?" I asked.

  "A little weird, I guess, but not uncomfortable. So how do we communicate with it? I just...speak? There's no mouthpiece or anything?"

  "Nope, just that. I won't bore you with the science of it, but it should work effectively. I'll finish it off tonight, and then add the T-Chip to make them untraceable. I've designed it to look pretty much identical to one of the fully sanctioned and legal hearing aids on the market. So...if anyone did spot it, just say it's a hearing aid and you'll be fine."

  She smiled at me, shaking her head. "Got all bases covered, huh. That's impressive, Paige. You make me feel so...dumb sometimes. But, you know, in the best possible way."

  "Yeah, well, it's not really anything of my own doing," I said. "It's just my Variant genes doing the work. Now those were the real smart ones - the scientists who created the Variants in the first place. I'm just a product of all that genetic engineering. I can't really take credit."

  She began to nod, her face turning mischievous. "Yeah, you're right actually. Why didn't I think of that before? You're just...lucky, that's all. It's not like you've had to work for it."

  She was being sarcastic, of course, but that's actually the way I saw it. "Glad we agree then," I said. "But, either way, I'm happy enough to take advantage of it. Now give me that back. I need to get working."

  She passed the earpiece back to me, as I swivelled back around and returned to my work. I heard Becca drop back into her chair, continuing her education on the use of the various programs and systems set up within the safe-house. While I'd given her some of the basics, it seems that she'd discovered a set of instructions in the memory systems, helping her to develop her knowledge alone.

  We worked into the night, occasionally taking a break to share information or an important thought. Where before Becca had been a distraction and annoyance, now she was a teammate and colleague, often offering insight or making a suggestion that I valued. She kept an eye on Carson's position too, reporting any updates. He was in the north of the Eastbends right now, in a static location. I asked Becca to log
it for future reference, thinking it must be a safe-house, and perhaps the heart of their current operations.

  It was well past midnight when Becca began to tire. "My eyes are falling shut," she said. "Staring at this screen all day really takes it out of you."

  "You should get some sleep," I told her. "I'm not sure anything else is going to happen tonight. I'll keep an eye on the map, don't worry."

  She looked reluctant to step away, but wasn't doing herself any good nodding off in that chair. "You're probably right," she said. "I'm recording the screen, though, so don't worry if you miss something. We can always rewind it back and see where the red dot has gone."

  "You're recording footage?" I asked. "Good thinking."

  "I thought it was smart," she said. "You know, in case we miss something. I'll review it all when I get up."

  "Right."

  "And what about you?" she asked. "I guess you're going to work tomorrow?"

  I nodded.

  "But...the deal. We don't know exactly when it's happening. Shouldn't you take the day off too?"

  "I'm not sure that's necessary," I said. "Carson mentioned that the deal's happening in the evening, so..."

  "But when in the evening?" Becca cut in. "That could be anything from, I don't know, six a clock or something. You'll be finishing work then. How will you get over to the Bends in time?"

  "I have a plan," I said. "I've already been setting it up."

  She peered at me. "What?"

  "Beecham has a soft spot for me, you know that," I smirked. "Today, I was 'pretending' to feel a bit queasy during the afternoon. You know, suggesting that your bug is catching or something. I'll go in tomorrow, play up that I'm ill, and get him to let me leave early. It's Saturday, so I doubt he'll care too much about it. Hopefully I'll be back here early afternoon, and can head over to the Bends right after."

  "You and your feminine wiles, Paige. Poor old Mr Beecham, twisted around your little finger."

  "He loves it," I laughed. "Makes his life more interesting."

  "Interesting," Becca said, smiling wearily. "I've only just begun to see what that word means. Thanks to you."