Cardinal, (Citizen Saga, Book 2)

by Claire, Nicola

  His eyebrows rose haughtily, clearly aware I'd decided to stop the avoidance tactic.

  "Last night," he pushed.

  "What do you want to know?" Of course, what I'd like to have asked was, why do you want to know?

  "Your adventures pulled the drones away from Elliott Street," he offered, and for the first time since I'd walked in here, I wondered if we could share information equally.

  "All of them?" I asked. If my Wáikěiton home was unguarded, I would be able to retrieve vital hidden supplies. Not my Shiloh unit, that had always resided at Parnell, but many things that my father had left me, as well as my stash of credits from my night time hobbies, were hidden in the building Lena Carr owned.

  "Not quite all of them, but enough to make it possible to reconnoitre."

  "And?" I pressed.

  He tapped a finger lazily against the armrest of his couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed. I hadn't realised he'd moved close enough to almost touch me with his ornate slippers. I felt a little uncomfortable, realising he could do that without alerting me to his nearness.

  "This is where we establish an understanding, Honourable," he declared.

  "What sort of understanding?" I asked, reluctance evident in my tone.

  "There is much I can offer you, my dear. Much that could help in your... battles." My battles, not the the rebels' battles. Harjeet seemed to think they were mutually exclusive. "But in return I will need something from you."

  "I'm not sure I understand your motives, Harjeet," I offered, deciding an element of truth was needed.

  "You do not need to. What you do need is my help."

  "And we're grateful for it."

  His smile was predatory. "You think I allow your friends to stay here out of the goodness of my heart?"

  "Not at all."

  "No," he said, with a small nod of his head. "You are used to the machinations of Overseers, you understand how the game is played."

  Oh, I understood there was a game, but how it was played, I was deeply in the dark.

  "Then you should not object to my insisting we have an agreement," he added.

  I objected, but I was certain I wasn't in a position to get away with it. We had literally nowhere else to go. I hardly thought the basement of Xiu and Jun's apartment building in Muhgah Foh would accommodate half a dozen rebels.

  "And if I don't agree to your terms?" I asked, staring into the eyes of the most conniving manipulator I had ever met.

  He didn't bother to answer, which in itself was answer enough. His face was set, hard, unmoving. He held all the power here, we were simply at his mercy.

  We could split up, find accommodation individually. Risk the lives of half a dozen families just to hide us from the Overseers. But communicating would be damn near impossible. Strategizing would be difficult at best and definitely disjointed. And meeting on even a semi-regular basis would draw too much attention.

  They were all risks I knew Trent would not want to take.

  I let a long, resigned breath of air out and said, "What do you want, Harjeet?"

  "I want to be kept in the loop," he said simply. "Isha has been removed from your tech room twice and I do not appreciate that fact. However, I understand Trent's motives and will allow it for the time being. As long as you are telling me everything I need to know."

  "You want me to spy on them?"

  "Selena," he murmured, "it is what you do that intrigues me the most."

  Me?

  "Why?" I demanded, brow furrowed.

  "Because you are the key. You hold a unique position of power and I believe your so called rebel friends are not quite aware of that fact yet. Too concerned with their righteous moral battle to see they already possess the winning piece." I wasn't sure how to take any of that. "But I'm aware." He paused, allowed a suitable amount of tension to fill the quiet, then said, "And I will give you what you want most for the simple pleasure of your company at breakfast each morning."

  "What I want most," I whispered.

  "I cannot bring back the dead," Harjeet hurried to explain. "But I can reinstate identities."

  The Gulab Jamun flipped and flopped excitedly at the bottom of my stomach. I worked to keep the eagerness off my face and tried to think about this logically. How could Harjeet retrieve Lena Carr? How? The Chief Overseer himself knew of my second identity. He'd surely black flagged it in the system by now, evidenced by the platoon of drones standing outside Lena's Wáikěiton house. In all reality Harjeet was promising me something he could not possibly deliver.

  I didn't trust the man. I was sure he wouldn't live up to his side of any bargain we made; either because he couldn't or he never planned to regardless. Entering into an agreement with him wouldn't elicit any useful results. But not entering an agreement would leave us homeless.

  I stared into the too intelligent eyes of the man before me, ignored the handsome features, the perfectly presented façade, and looked into his dark soul.

  He wasn't a lion, I decided. Much too cunning for that. He was a serpent, sleek and silent, you wouldn't know he was upon you until his fangs bit into your flesh. Sly and treacherous was our Harjeet. But what was his endgame?

  "All right," I said. I really had no choice, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to do my best to find us another location as soon as possible. "Breakfast tomorrow, you'll get your first report."

  He laughed, it was full of humour and, conversely, deeply disturbing.

  "Selena," he chastised. "Do you really think I'd let you leave this room without giving me a full report?"

  "Tomorrow morning, Harjeet," I said with meaning, standing from my seat and turning to move.

  Isha appeared out of the corner of the room. I'd thought she'd long left. I was momentarily annoyed that Harjeet would allow her to overhear our conversation and then just as frustrated that I'd not realised she'd stayed.

  Which was all replaced with a shot of adrenaline when she pointed a gun at my chest.

  "Really?" I said. "Is this necessary?"

  "Barbaric, I agree," Harjeet murmured at my back. "But you leave me little choice. Now sit. Tell me everything. Or Isha will be forced to use the gun."

  I spun around and glared at him. He didn't even appear contrite.

  "Killing me won't get you the information you crave," I pointed out. "Harming me will just make me mad," I added. "Not to mention the rebels that would rain down on this place if they heard a gun go off."

  Harjeet smiled. It seemed a little off.

  "Selena," he said, returning to his languid recline on the settee. "She won't necessarily use the weapon on you."

  I stared at him, unable to stop the images of my friends being harmed. Tan, Trent, Alan, Simon. One after another their faces flashed before my eyes. I slowly sat down in the chair opposite him, but didn't relax.

  "Why are you doing this?" I asked, stunned. Didn't we have enough enemies out there on the streets of Wánměi? Now we had to battle our supposed allies as well?

  "I have my reasons," he said, straightening his shirt sleeves and fluffing with his jacket. I got the impression he wished he hadn't gone down the seduction route now. Being dressed in pyjamas, even elegant pyjamas such as these, wasn't giving him the advantage he'd hoped for.

  "How can I ever trust you now?" I muttered.

  "My dear," he chastised. "Didn't your father teach you anything? There is no one in this Wánměi you can trust. Not even your darling Trent Masters."

  I wasn't sure I could argue with that statement, but bringing my dead father into the mix did have one positive effect. I was now angry, not scared or frustrated. But utterly fuming.

  "Very well," I announced, in Elite tones dripping in icicles. "The Overseers are bargaining with non-model Citizens. Giving them a chance to avoid wiping for information on the rebel base." I was not going to make this easy for him. The rebel base was in his home, selling us out to avoid wiping would only give the Overseers more reason to wipe him.

&
nbsp; "Good. Go on," he encouraged.

  "They have altered their laser beams," I continued, convinced now I'd go straight to Trent and tell him everything as soon as I was done with this farce. "They now carry an opiate that induces paranoia." Exactly what that paranoia led to, I'd let him conclude.

  And he needn't know that I'd been hit, either. God knows what he'd do with that information.

  "Indeed," he said, eyebrows arched. "It was always feared they'd use Femtosecond Spectroscopy to administer drugs. What else?"

  "That's it. That's all I got for a night's worth of work." I was not mentioning Xiu or Jun or little Juan. I was not.

  "There's more," he guessed. "Don't hold back from me, Selena. You would not like to see how I react."

  No. I wouldn't. I'd decided that Harjeet Kandiyar was a very dangerous man.

  "Why did you return home?" he asked, giving me an option other than Zhang Jun's knowledge base to disclose.

  I sat back in my chair at the thought of bringing my Shiloh unit to this man's attention. I could only assume the Overseers had it now, so mentioning it was not going to help Harjeet in whatever goals he had. Lying about it seemed ill advised. Isha still held that gun in an unwavering hand, and I had the feeling Harjeet, the snake, could detect lies.

  "I left something behind that my father had given me," I hedged, wanting desperately for my avoidance to work.

  "Something important?" he asked softly.

  "Everything my father gave me was important," I whispered.

  "But this... thing was more important than most," he guessed. "You risked a lot to try to retrieve it, yet when you returned here you weren't carrying anything large. Was it hidden in your clothing?"

  I shook my head. "It wasn't in my apartment. The concierge sold me out."

  I couldn't give him the teenagers, but Augustine was an adult who had chosen his path with experience to back him up. I didn't think Harjeet could use him. But I also wasn't too sure about that fact.

  My life was mired in conflict.

  "What was it, Selena?" he pressed, sitting forward in his seat in a manner that left me in little doubt he'd understood the significance of what I'd failed to retrieve last night.

  I sucked in a deep breath, took one last look at the man before me, committing his image, this moment, to memory, so I would never forget the second I started hating Harjeet Kandiyar.

  "My Shiloh unit," I said, feeling as though the world shifted on its axis and a new future was created with voicing those three little words.

  "Ah," Harjeet said, leaning back in his chair with a triumphant look to his face. "Now that is interesting."

  Ah, damn it. What had I just done?

  Chapter 8

  What Are You Doing, Lena?

  Trent

  "Where's Lena?" I seemed to be asking that question a lot lately. Making me look like a lovesick idiot, trying to keep tabs on a woman who was obviously well out of my league.

  I swallowed my pride and repeated the question.

  "Dunno, boss," Si finally offered, while Alan just smirked.

  I pushed my uneasiness aside and turned to the main vid-screen. "Any progress on finding that concierge?"

  "Augustine Tengku," Si advised. "Lives out past Whitford Rap-Trans station."

  Alan whistled. "Bit of a commute to Parnell."

  "Yeah," Si agreed. "Wife, four adult kids, eight grandkids."

  Silence.

  "Hell of a lot of people to be wiped," Alan murmured.

  We were all thinking the same thing, at a guess. What wouldn't we have done to protect our families? But the reality was, they were probably already dead, living on borrowed time. There was no way the Overseers would just forget about him, simply because he sold Lena out last night.

  Especially since she got away. Probably due to his second thoughts and the fact he'd warned her.

  And my guess, the Cardinals would have known all of that.

  "Any chance we can reach them before the system does?" I asked.

  Si twisted in his chair and looked up at me. "Who's we, Trent? This is it." He indicated the room, where Alan, Emir and Paul sat, with Si and I making up the entirety of what was left of the revolutionaries.

  Pitiful.

  I scrubbed my face with both hands just as a noise out in the corridor caught our attention. I motioned to Si to clear the vid-screen as Lena's Elite tone of voice entered the room first.

  "Stop following me!" she demanded. We all shared an interested look. Something had got our little princess worked up.

  "I have been ordered to assist where I can," came Isha's stilted reply. Oh, now it all made perfect sense.

  "Well, not this time, little girl," Lena growled back, making a couple of the guys chuckle.

  "You are not in charge," Isha replied, and all credit to her for trying to talk down to an Elite.

  They rounded the corner of the door frame and came into sight. Lena in faded jeans and a blue t-shirt that I swear looked better than any thousand dollar ball gown, and Isha, several inches shorter, in a shimmery, flowing k'ri k'ri, multiple bangles jangling at her wrists.

  "You know what?" Lena announced. "I don't give a fuck." And promptly slammed the door in Isha's face.

  "I will be telling Harjeet!" Isha yelled on the other side of the blockade.

  "I'm sure he already knows," Lena murmured, her palm flat against the closed door. The quietness of her reply held more weight than if she had shouted her answer. The fact she was breathing too swiftly made a chill of foreboding run down my spine.

  No one spoke, but every single eye was on Lena as she gathered herself and then slowly turned to face the room. She was pale, washed out, as though she'd received a fright. Tired, despite the fact I knew I'd left her sound asleep in her quarters this morning. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes flicking over the occupants of the room and not showing surprise, then she crossed to Si's desk and picked up a pen and some paper.

  "What...?" Si started and she waved a hand for him to shut up. This was getting more and more intriguing by the minute.

  She bent over at the waist to write something down and, I admit, I got a little sidetracked by the shape of her arse in those tight fitting jeans. But when she came upright and held the piece of paper out to me and my brain finally caught on to what she'd written, all extra curricular thoughts fled my mind.

  Is this room bugged?

  I lifted my gaze to her face and saw she was serious, without removing my eyes from hers, I handed Si the slip of paper.

  He coughed in surprise once he'd read it and chanced voicing his answer aloud. "Can't be sure. Lack the equipment."

  Because Harjeet hadn't supplied it.

  Lena nodded once, as though expecting that answer. And I suddenly realised Isha was a ploy. A move to make us feel falsely secure. When she was here, we watched what we said and did. When she wasn't, all bets were off.

  "What now?" I asked the room at large, the others having come over and looked at the question Lena had written, so were up with the play.

  "I need a distraction," she whispered.

  "What sort?" Si asked in the same quiet tone, as he switched the radio on to a music channel and turned the volume up.

  We all leaned forward into a huddle, faces close, our backs to room in case Harjeet had cameras as well as mics.

  "Big enough to make the drones leave Elliott Street again," Lena supplied.

  "You knew about that?" I asked, her eyes lifted to mine and she mouthed, "Harjeet."

  Oh, she and I were going to have a long conversation very soon.

  "What else?" I gritted out.

  She scanned our little group. "Two stay here to run interference with Si," she whispered, all of us straining to hear her words over the loud bass of a popular song on the radio. "One with me to Elliott Street. One to an address in Muhgah Foh."

  Muhgah Foh. Where she'd landed in amongst drones last night.

  "What are you doing, Lena?" I asked, feeling entirely
too far out of the picture to figure this woman out.

  "Getting us the necessary equipment," she replied and then stood up.

  The group dispersed. Si silently handing out the last of our off-grid earpieces. Only two. I took one and slipped it in. Alan took the other, while also accepting the address and message Lena had hastily written.

  There'd been no need to discuss our roles further. Alan was the best street operative we had, Emir and Paul were newer recruits and were better off running interference with Harjeet on safe ground.

  And it was always only ever going to be me accompanying Lena.

  The woman required a personal touch, and if anyone was touching Lena... that person was definitely going to be me.

  Chapter 9

  Too Wrapped Up In My Embrace?

  Lena

  "Tell me you have a plan," Trent whispered in my ear as we watched the drones marching up and down Elliott Street.

  He'd badgered me the entire way here in the van, and although I'd finally given him an appropriate run-down on what had happened last night, making him watch me through disappointed half lidded eyes, the questions hadn't stopped.

  Why is your Shiloh unit so worthwhile?

  Can you trust these teenagers? They are just kids.

  What do you mean they look like you? Are you mad? They're just kids.

  And my personal favourite, Do you feel paranoid yet? Perhaps we should go back to the base.

  I flicked an angry glance over my shoulder at him. He just raised an eyebrow, unaffected by my obvious rage.

  "It'll work," I mumbled.

  "Yes, I get the whole distraction via multiple zebra-like hairstyles causing teenage havoc on the streets," he drawled. "But what's your plan once we're inside there." He nodded towards my old apartment, the curtains still now and not fluttering as though struck by a breeze or the movements of someone inside, like they had last time we were both here.

  "This has to work," I said with determination.

  "Lena," Trent urged, causing me to half turn to look at him. "Zebra," he added, making a huff of breath leave me and my eyes to roll. He chuckled, then said, in all seriousness, "He'll be expecting this. Just tell me what it is we're going in for. Prepare me. So if the shit hits the fan we can work together to make it out alive and hopefully with something to show for it."