Visions

by Teyla Branton

  “I’ll expect you next weekend then. And you can bring that handsome doctor. He can help you gather your things.”

  Reese stifled a flare of annoyance. She went to her aunt’s precisely because the house was isolated, because dealing with only one person who might send her a mental sketch was a relief after holding it together during the work week. She’d filled an entire sketchbook last week alone, and while Brogan had reassured her that she would have as much of the rare paper as she needed, it was beginning to be ridiculous.

  Her aunt picked up on her silence, and her next words came lightly. “Unless you don’t want him seeing what’s in the attic, that is.”

  She meant the bag of things Reese had brought with her from Colony 6 when she’d escaped after Jaxon’s mother had been murdered and her father had run away scared. Nothing in the bag was important—maybe old clothes she hadn’t looked at in twenty years or more. Whatever a poor child had owned or thought important. The only thing of real value were the drawing pads that held a visual record of her life in the colony, and those were already packed in a box at her aunt’s.

  “We’ll see,” Reese said. “Love you. I’ll call as soon as I can.”

  She pulled off her iTeev, severing the connection, and breathed a sigh of relief. She was about to leave the room when a short ping from the door let her know someone was outside her office.

  “Enter,” Reese called. The door opened with a muted whir. “Alex,” she said with a smile. Despite not wanting to take him to Theena’s, it was still good to see him before she left.

  Alex Andres stepped inside, his brown eyes somber. “I heard about the mission. Just my luck. I was hoping to spend time with you this weekend.” He had a lopsided grin, due in part to the three-centimeter scar below the right side of his mouth, and a face that dimpled when he laughed.

  “Sorry. You know I don’t have a choice.”

  “I know.” He glanced at the holo showing the transfer station, his nose wrinkling. “What in Breakdown is that?”

  “Just a place I know.” A place whose significance she’d never be able to make him understand. People who hadn’t grown up in the Coop could never relate. He might be able to understand that it reminded her of what they were fighting for, but it wasn’t only that. The transfer station, or rather the colony it represented, told her every day what all parts of the CORE were becoming—a thinly masked prison.

  The station also reminded her of her crew. Of Jaxon, Eagle, Dani, and the twins. Of bonds forged by loyalty and love. She would still willingly die for any of them. She couldn’t say the same about Alex. Yet.

  Reese brought her hands up in a sweep and her Teev holo appeared over her desk. She typed out a few commands and replaced the transfer station with yet another beach landscape. Only a temporary switch. The next time she entered the room, the transfer station would be there waiting for her.

  “That’s more like it.” Alex closed the space between them, his hand running through his light brown hair. “Wish I were going with you. You might need a doctor.”

  “We won’t.”

  A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. “It’s just as well. While you were out, Chief Kirkpatrick made an announcement over the Teev. Apparently, it’s no longer optional to carry a CivID card in Dallastar instead of an implant, and everyone who doesn’t have it already will need to comply within the next three months. I received a personal message from the chief stating that I’ll be responsible for making sure anyone we bring into division is fitted with an implant.”

  Kirkpatrick was the man over all of Dallastar, and all the division captains in Dallastar answered to him, including Captain Brogan, while Kirkpatrick answered only to the Controller himself at HED. Reese had never met Kirkpatrick, but she knew his power here was checked only by the captains under him and Brogan’s alter ego, El Cerebro.

  “We always knew that would happen,” she said.

  Estlantic, the other major territory in the CORE, had required implants for at least five years, and all residents in the six welfare colonies were given them at birth. Certain professions, like enforcers, had always been required to have them. But requiring them now for all of Dallastar meant more deaths because some would inevitably refuse. The people in Dallastar weren’t as docile as those in Estlantic. Whether that was because of the distance from the CORE government, or their proximity to the fringers, she couldn’t say.

  “You think Captain Brogan heard about the announcement?” she asked. That Brogan had tasked them to rescue a doctor with abilities just as the chief announced the required implants seemed rather too coincidental.

  Alex shook his head. “He’s been vocal against it. I doubt the chief would have given him the heads up.” He put his hands on her upper arms, gently rubbing. “I’m going to miss you.” His head lowered, his eyes watching hers as he closed the gap between them.

  She knew from experience that he was a good kisser, but she also knew that he was frustrated at the slow pace of their relationship. She had little choice in the matter. Because while she didn’t need to touch someone to receive a sketch, the closer they were, the more likely she’d catch a glimpse of an image. It had been growing bad before she was sent to Dallastar, but she’d been able to control it a lot better since then. But her control had vanished when she’d started dating Alex. Thus the neural suppressant he’d given her.

  His mouth touched hers, eager and seeking. She sagged against him, enjoying the feel of his body and the passion that ran through her veins, blotting out her worry about Theena and about helping El Cerebro save people. Those who needed protection comprised an ever-growing list—scientists who learned too much, people who spoke out, couples who grew tired of waiting their turn to have a baby.

  Alex closed his arm around her, pulling her tighter. “How soon do you have to go?” he murmured against her lips.

  She wished he’d stop talking and focus on what they were doing. Speaking always created an additional risk for sketches. “I’m meeting Jaxon and Eagle in a few minutes.”

  His chuckle was hoarse. “Plenty of time for this.” He kissed her more deeply, but it was too late. A flash came to her, a clear image from Alex’s mind. Of Jaxon, dressed in his uniform, standing in front of her, glaring, his fists clenched. Jaxon’s eyes always burned a brighter blue when he was fighting passionately for something. She recognized Alex’s medical office in the background. She had no idea how recent this image was, but it couldn’t be that old. Jaxon’s dark hair was shorter than it was now, but not by much.

  She pushed Alex away. “Seriously? Do you really have to be thinking of Jaxon while you’re kissing me?”

  “Sorry.” He shrugged. “You said his name.”

  “It’s not the first time you’ve thought of him.”

  “He hates that we’re dating.”

  “Because you put a tracker in me.”

  “I explained all that.”

  She swept her hand downward, killing the holo that still hovered over her desk. “You should have told me first.” In the Coop, he’d have been kicked out of their crew for less. It was only the fact that Alex knew about her gift, his persistence, and their joint work in the underground that had gotten them this far into a relationship. She cared about him, but if she didn’t learn to control her ability, she was going to have to end this relationship before it drove them both mad.

  “I guess that means you’re not taking the neural suppressant?” His voice was more sorrowful than accusing.

  “I can’t while I’m working. I need to be focused.”

  He nodded. “Of course. Maybe I can find something else.”

  “Maybe you should just stop thinking of Jaxon while we kiss.”

  “I will if you stop bringing him up.”

  Did she do that? This time it had been his fault, but she couldn’t say that was always the case. The truth was, Jaxon was a part of her in a way Alex could never be. And while she was crazy attracted to Jaxon, she loved having him back in her life and
couldn’t risk their friendship with a fleeting romance. That made her choice to date Alex clear.

  She bent to heft her bag. “I’d better go.”

  He walked with her to the shuttle bay, a slight awkwardness between them. “How’s the language-learning coming along?” she asked, referring to the medical books passed down in his family that had belonged to his second great-grandmother, who had been a physician in a place called Denmark, wherever that was.

  “Not well. So much of our data was lost during Breakdown. Languages and medical knowledge are some of the worst hit. It’s too bad there is no one out there left to share knowledge with.”

  She lowered her voice, glancing at the camera in the hallway. “We don’t know that for sure. The CORE controls all communication. Who really knows what’s left in the world?”

  He sighed and took a step forward. “I think we would have heard from them by now.”

  “If they made it through Breakdown, they’re probably just like us, trying to survive.” Maybe they were also committing atrocities that were every bit as bad as those carried out by the CORE.

  They paused at the shuttle bay doors, where Jaxon and Eagle were already waiting. “Hey guys,” Alex said, dipping his head in greeting.

  Eagle nodded, casting his usual friendly grin, but Jaxon ignored him and pushed open the door. Maybe it was the sketch she’d have to draw, but she saw Jaxon now as he’d been in Alex’s mind, tall and strong, his hair darker than most, the intense blue of his eyes, and his tanned face sporting a couple days’ beard growth that contrasted with today’s freshly shaved face.

  The men had been friends once, but ever since Alex had been a part of forcing them to work for El Cerebro, there had been tension between them, even if in the end they all knew it was the only responsible thing they could do. That Jaxon didn’t seem to harbor the same resentment toward Evan Hammer, the Crime Scene Investigation team leader, who had played a similar role in tricking them to work for the underground, was strange to Reese.

  “Take care,” Alex said as she started to follow Jaxon.

  Reese knew he was hoping for more than a casual wave-of-the-hand goodbye, but that was all he’d get with the others around. She didn’t know enough about relationships to know how long that might last, but at some point, they’d need to address it. She was glad he wasn’t going along on this trip.

  The police shuttle dropped them at the sky train, one of the few intact remnants of a pre-Breakdown world. The solar-powered trains rose above all but the tallest of buildings, having replaced the overland and subway trains of decades past. They extended the length of the CORE, and many unused lines still existed in the uninhabited empty zones and in the radiation-filled Desolation Zones. After decades of disuse, CORE engineers had restored power to the sky trains and it now ran between cities and even to the welfare colonies as a free service to all citizens with valid CivIDs.

  They passed a monitor at the station, which scanned their embedded CivID chips and allowed them to pass through the gates. With their enforcer status encoded into the CivIDs, they were permitted to bring weapons on board. This was no small thing since doing so had saved Reese’s life in the past.

  “Do you see Dani?” she asked, looking through the fifty-odd people gathered below the stairs leading up to the station itself.

  “No, but something’s going on here.” Jaxon’s hand hovered near his weapon. “Too many people are standing around for this time of day. Especially on a Thursday night. They should have gone home hours ago. No one’s even going up to the train.”

  Thanks to the secret slavery inside the colonies, most CORE residents worked less than thirty hours a week, enforcement being one of the few exceptions. It was part of why enforcers were so well paid and given so many perks, but it also meant they’d have to deal with whatever was going on here before catching their train.

  Reese hopped up on a bench and looked around for a body on the cobblestones or someone fighting—something to explain the gathering. The people looked average, dressed mostly in casual business wear. Dark hair and features for the most part, which was to be expected, but in the middle of the crowd, also standing on a bench, she spied a thin, wild-haired, bearded man wearing black pants and a tight green sweater. He held up a sign scratched on a piece of wood that he’d likely salvaged from an empty zone. It read in large bold letters: SAY NO TO IMPLANTS!

  “The implants aren’t just CivIDs,” he was shouting. “They have all the information you’ve ever put into a Teev or given the government. It makes you traceable every second. You can’t just put down your card and go into another room or go to the store and buy a smoke without them noticing. It’ll be able to test your blood, monitor your heartrate, even know when you make love to your wife.”

  “Oh, go home,” someone shouted. “You’re crazy.”

  “It’s already against the law to go around without the card!” a woman yelled.

  “That’s right,” the thin man hollered back. “They already track us every minute. But the implant is worse. Do you know that one percent of you will die from the operation? Do you know the radiation it exposes you to over the course of your life is like walking into the North Desolation Zone? How many of us will die of cancer? Imagine that. A disease our ancestors had cured before Breakdown. Now our government is more interested in Nuface therapy than in curing diseases.”

  “That’s not true!” someone shouted. “He’s crazy.”

  This was met by a shove from others in the crowd.

  “I’ve had Nuface,” an older woman called. “It’s great.”

  “Only because they gave you permission!” the wild man called back. “And how many years did you work to afford it?”

  No response from the woman except a scowl.

  “He’s right about the emissions.” This from a man in a suit. “I work for the hospital, and it’s true. But it’s over an entire lifetime. It won’t hurt anyone.”

  “Unless they’re young or sick!” The thin man shouted. “Mothers, do you want your babies to die before you do? They already made you wait years just to get a child, and now they’ll kill them. We have to stick together!”

  “He’s right!” a woman cried. “I’ve been denied a birth order four times already. Each time took me three months to apply with a six-month wait in between.”

  “Did you hear that?” The thin man waved his arms wildly. “She could have had four babies by then! Do you really think the CORE Elite have these implants? Do you think they pay what we do for Nuface therapy? Do you really think they have to wait to have a child?”

  “No!” several people shouted. The mood was growing uglier by the second. Another dozen people had joined the crowd, with only a few hurrying away, casting frightened glances at the cameras that watched the square.

  “And they have entire databases of pre-Breakdown information they don’t share!” The thin man pointed his finger at members of the group. “That means you and you and you might die because those slut-munching pus bags care more about their smooth skin than keeping you alive. They glut themselves on our work, and tax us too much to support those lazy cotton-heads in the colonies. Don’t let them continue! You need to stand up and be counted.”

  Murmurs of assent clearly showed which way the crowd was leaning. A chill shuddered through Reese that had little to do with the light breeze in the square.

  Jaxon put on his iTeev, and his hand motions told her he was bringing up the holo feed from the cameras. Reese jumped down from the bench, removed her iTeev from her uniform sleeve, and slid it over her eyes, connecting it to Jaxon’s iTeev feed. Immediately small boxes with numbers popped up around the edges of her vision, each one with a narrow line leading to a person in the crowd.

  “Just as I thought,” Jaxon murmured. “Our preacher man isn’t carrying a CivID.” He frowned. “But it looks like he’s not the only one.”

  “I count four more,” Reese said.

  “Those are the ones we need to worry about.” Jaxon pu
lled out his temper laser, a mood-altering device that would calm all but the few that were immune. “Time to break this up.”

  Reese and Eagle followed his lead. “I don’t know,” Eagle muttered. “I’m counting seventy-eight people now. This could get bad.”

  Reese had to agree. And the closer they’d get, the more sketches she’d see from their minds, which meant she wouldn’t be working at one hundred percent.

  “We mostly have to worry about the five without the CivIDs,” Jaxon said. “Eagle, you go for the guy on the left, I’ll get the two in the middle. Reese, the one on the right and the preacher man are all yours. Keep your iTeevs on and put in your ear pieces so we can communicate.”

  Reese chuckled. “Only two for me? Put that way, it seems easy.”

  Jaxon shot her an amused glance. “Just try not to kill anyone else before you get to them. I signaled Lyssa to send backup. They’ll need to track down and implant all these people.”

  “Poor suckers,” Eagle muttered.

  “You have an implant too,” Reese reminded him. “It’s not so bad.”

  Eagle simply stepped forward, a smile on his face, which made Reese wonder. Later she’d ask more. For now, she turned her temper laser on high and drew her stunner with her right hand. Her left was her dominant, but she could shoot equally well with the right, thanks to her time in the colonies. In practice, she always carried the deadlier weapon in her right hand.

  “Look, there they are!” The thin man cried. “Enforcers. They’ll take us all. Friends, save me!”

  The crowd turned, a few separating themselves from the rest and sprinting away, a useless gesture because their CivIDs had already been recorded. One way or the other, they’d be found.

  Reese hurried forward, pushing her way through the crowd. They only had a few minutes before their train arrived, and she wasn’t going to miss it. Sketches came to her from the minds of those she passed. Images that she’d have to draw: an enforcer leading away a young man, an older woman weeping, a man pushing a mop as he stared hopelessly out a window. Then another sobbing woman, this time young, so very young.