by Tania Hutley
“An accident at the factory.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” says Ma. She tries to wraps me in a hug, but I wince and pull away.
“My shoulder hurts,” I tell her, flexing my arm.
“What happened? How bad is it?”
“It’s fine. Just a little sore.”
She hugs me gingerly on the other side, avoiding my wound. “Thank you for bringing William back to me. And for coming back yourself. I was afraid for you, sweetheart. I spent the whole time wanting to call you.”
She smells just like she always has, an underlying scent that’s so familiar it makes my heart ache. But she still looks exhausted and drawn.
“I kept trying to use my band and then realizing it wasn’t there,” she adds.
“I know how that feels. Here.” I offer my wrist so she can take her band back.
When it’s safely on her wrist, she puts one arm around me, and takes William’s arm with her other hand, like she wants to hug us both at once. “It’s like the best kind of dream to have my children with me again. I love you both so much.”
“The director’s my real mother.” William’s expression is stony.
“I’m sorry,” I tell Ma again, hating to see her face fall. “The director’s been filling his head with lies. She’s turned him against us, so he’d fight for her.”
“But he’s not hurt, is he?” Her sunken eyes search mine, desperate for answers.
I can’t tell her his brain was altered by his Skin. She’ll worry herself sick, and what good will it do? Besides, it’s already happened. He’s already changed.
“He’s not really hurt,” I tell her instead. “Hopefully he’ll be back to normal soon. The director trained him to be her soldier, but eventually he’ll have to remember who he really is.” I’m trying to convince myself as much as her.
“Director Morelle will kill you all.” William’s matter-of-fact tone makes me shudder. “I hope she asks me to do it. I’ll enjoy it.”
Ma draws in a loud breath, her hand at her mouth, and I glare at my brother. How can he upset Ma like this, when she’s already gone through so much?
Grabbing his gag, I tie it back over his mouth.
“Oh.” Ma puts her hand on my arm, trying to stop me. “Must we do that? I mean, I don’t like what he’s saying, but that can’t be comfortable for him. And is it safe? Can he breathe?”
I raise my voice, calling to the doctor who’s still in her bedroom. “Doctor Gregory, do you mind if I put my brother in your spare room for now? Then I can take off his gag.”
She pokes her head out of her bedroom, her brow furrowed. “How long do you mean to keep him contained?”
“I’m not sure. Don’t suppose you have any ideas on how we could undo what the director did to him?”
Doctor Gregory raises her eyebrows and her anxious expression changes into a thoughtful one. She walks closer. “An interesting prospect. I was hoping to have access to the Knight Skin in order to study the neural processes of a subject while their consciousness was transferred. But testing a subject who’s undergone a full conditioning treatment could provide valuable insight.” She taps her chin, her eyes glazed as though she’s looking at something that’s not here. “I could devise some tests to measure the extent of the neural changes. It’s just a pity we don’t have his initial data from before he was exposed to the…”
“I’ll put him in the spare bedroom,” I murmur to Ma. “He’ll be safe in there.”
“Do you mind if I take him?” She looks to me for permission, and I feel oddly like we’ve swapped bodies and I’m now the parent.
“Sure. You can take his gag off, but don’t untie him.”
“I’m making something to eat,” Cale says from the kitchen. “Anyone else hungry?”
“Starving.” My stomach grumbles.
Doctor Gregory has already moved to her workbench to make notes on her mind pad. She shakes her head. “I’ve eaten, thank you.”
Ma also refuses, all her attention focused on William. She leads him into the spare room, where she’ll no doubt keep trying to convince him that she loves him. That he’s refusing to believe her makes me itch to shake some sense into him.
Cale uses the machine in the kitchen to make meat-flavored pancakes, and they’re delicious. Much nicer than anything I’ve ever eaten in a shelter. I call Ma out of the bedroom, trying to convince her to come and eat with us, but she shakes her head.
“William says he’s not hungry, but I think he must be,” she says, putting a couple of pancakes onto a plate. “I’ll take these to him.” She disappears again.
After we’ve stuffed ourselves with pancakes, Cale moves to the living room and flicks on the holo. I sink down on the couch next to him, feeling exhausted. Now my stomach is full, my eyes are closing.
But they snap open again when I hear Director Morelle’s voice.
On the holo, two figures are projected, both sitting in chairs. One is a young reporter, and the other is Director Morelle.
“This is shocking news indeed,” says the reporter, her expression serious. “In a moment we’ll return to the hospital for an update on President’s Trask’s condition. But first, tell us about today’s attack.”
I sit up straighter. “Something happened to the president?”
Director Morelle is already answering the reporter. “The Fist’s primary objective was the assassination attempt. They attacked a cab factory and used the explosion as a diversion to distract the knights and divide our forces. While many knights were rescuing the innocent civilians caught in the blast, another strike force fired on the president and vice president.”
“What?” I meet Cale’s gaze. He looks as shocked as I feel. “Did you know they were going to try and kill the president?” I ask, though I can already tell he didn’t.
He shakes his head. “Don’t fall for her lies. The Fist didn’t have anything to do with an assassination attempt.”
I let out my breath. “Of course they didn’t. Director Morelle probably saw an opportunity and ordered her own soldiers to kill him.”
“Why would the Fist do all this?” The reporter uncrosses her slim legs and leans forward. “The vice president’s death has been confirmed, and the president is in critical care. But why would the Fist want to destroy our country’s leadership and attack our soldiers? Do they want Deiterra to invade us?”
“The sole aim of the Fist is to spread civil unrest and sabotage the fabric of our society. We’re closing in on the perpetrators of this heinous act, but until we have them locked up, we’re announcing new measures to help the knights track them down and arrest them.”
“New measures?” asks the reporter.
“The knights will have full authority to conduct spot checks on all Old Triton citizens. Any citizen found to be a member of the Fist will be dealt with on the spot.”
“She means they’ll be killed.” Anger leaks into my voice.
“She means that even more Old Tritoners will be killed,” Cale corrects. “They’re stepping up their murders to a whole new level.”
I nod. I only hope that after the fighting today, there are a lot less knights to do the murdering.
“All factory workers will be required to take on extra shifts,” adds Director Morelle. “Producing more Knight Skins is our top priority.”
The reporter nods, her large eyes earnest. “How many soldiers were injured or killed in today’s attack?”
“Very few. And fortunately, only their Skins were harmed, not the soldiers themselves. We’re already manufacturing more Skins to replace those which were lost.”
The holo switches to show the interior of a factory that looks very much like the one Ma was working in. The machines are active, and the place is full of grunts. The clanking of the conveyor belt is a too-familiar sound.
I catch my breath. “She can’t have set her factory up somewhere else already?”
Cale presses his lips together, his expression grim.
&
nbsp; I think of all the bodies we saw on the street outside the Meat Locker. Was today’s fight for nothing? If the director’s already set up a new factory, she’ll have new Knight Skins ready for her soldiers in no time. I can’t imagine there’ll be any way to destroy a second factory. It’ll be too well guarded.
The holo goes back to showing the reporter and Director Morelle.
“Surgeons are working around the clock to stabilize President Trask,” says the reporter. “First, we’ll see if we can get an update, then we’ll cross live to Vice President Burn’s office, for details of the memorial service that’s being organised to honor him.”
The director speaks up. “Before your camera switches back to the hospital, I have a short broadcast that should reassure all Triton citizens.”
The camera zooms in close, and suddenly the director’s head is all I can see, floating in front of the holo screen, larger than life. “Law-abiding citizens of Triton have nothing to fear,” she says in a soothing tone. “As the acting head of Triton’s army, President Trask has authorized me to make decisions on his behalf. Until he’s made a full recovery, rest assured I’ll continue to keep Triton safe.”
She nods once, presumably at the person filming, and the projection changes to a street scene. A six-member squad of knights marches down the sidewalk, their metal boots thundering in unison. They’re marching through Old Triton. It’s the main central street and easily recognizable, but I’ve never seen it like this.
Neon lights still shine from the storefronts along the street. Above eye level, holograms still show people eating, or trying on clothes, or getting their hair cut. But the stores the holograms advertise are all closed.
Usually the sidewalks are crowded with people. I’ve bought protein balls and sugar sweets from vendors perched on stools, with their wares displayed on small folding tables that shine under portable lights. They sell everything from street brew to band apps on that street, and music has always blared from dozens of sex clubs and drinking holes tucked away inside the main buildings.
Now, though, it’s silent and deserted. There are no sinkers looking for a snack. No kids playing games with their friends, or pickpockets on the prowl. No sex workers propositioning passers-by, trying to drum up trade. No rough sleepers propped up in doorways, hustling for credits. There are no workers hurrying to their jobs.
The busiest street in Triton is even emptier than the streets around the Meat Locker were.
“Where are all the people?” I feel suddenly cold. Are they all cowering in shelters? Have the knights scared them off the streets? Or have they killed them?
“Don’t be afraid,” says the director’s voice. “Your knights are keeping your city safe. The soldiers who patrol Old Triton’s streets are ever-vigilant, day and night. They’re stamping down terrorism and making sure it can never flourish here again.” The scene changes to the breach in the Deiterran wall. Knights are arrayed in a large circle, facing the rubble. They stand motionless, their guns held ready. There’s no sign of the bodies, blood, or carnage from the battle we witnessed. “Other squads are deployed across the Deiterran border. Permissiveness has failed. Separation has failed. The wall has failed. It’s time to end the fear and finally unite under one rule. The war is almost over, and Triton’s knights will secure victory.”
The scene changes again. Now a perfectly tweaked New Triton couple are pushing a young child on a swing. The sun is rising behind them, giving the family a golden glow. The well-dressed parents smile at each other, then down at their child. Their eyes shine.
“The Morelle Corporation is bringing you a future that’s brighter than ever before. Peace will reign, and your family will prosper. I promise you--”
The holo goes dead.
From the seat next to mine, the doctor lets out a loud breath, her hand at her throat. I was so caught up in the horror of what we were watching, I didn’t notice her sitting down with us.
“I had to turn it off,” says Cale in a rough voice. “I couldn’t stand to watch anymore.“ He stands up, flexing his fists as though he wants to punch someone. “The Fist didn’t shoot either the vice president or the president. We’re being set up to take the fall. And the director’s brushed off today’s attacks like we hardly got rid of any knights at all. Maybe she’s been making more in another factory all this time, and we didn’t know about it. Perhaps we didn’t make as big a dent in her plans as we thought.”
I chew my lip, biting so hard it hurts. “She has the money and resources to build as many knights as she wants.”
“Even today’s fighting played into her hands. An excuse to get rid of the president and tighten her control.”
Doctor Gregory is hunched in her chair, deep creases in her brow. “As much as it pains me, I’m starting to believe that you’re right. These developments are extremely worrying.”
“There must be something we can do,” I say. “Some way to stop her.”
Cale is silent. He stares at the floor, his fists clenched. His shoulders are slumped.
Doctor Gregory glances at me, then looks away.
I close my eyes, feeling the same despair I can see on their faces. My stomach churns when I think of the deserted street on the holo. Whatever happened to those people – was it our fault? Has the director already taken revenge for our attack?
Chapter Twenty-One
I jolt awake with the cold, stomach-churning certainty that something is terribly wrong.
I’m lying on one of Doctor Gregory’s couches, and Cale is on the other. My shoulder is aching, and my internal clock is telling me that it must be almost dawn. The house is dark and quiet.
I pull myself out of bed, wincing at the pain in my shoulder, and creep across to the doctor’s spare room. Slowly and silently, I ease open the door. Ma needs her sleep and I don’t want to wake her. I just want to check on William.
Ma is lying on the bed, fully clothed and above the covers. There’s nobody lying next to her. There’s nobody else anywhere in the bedroom. She’s alone.
William is gone.
My nostrils fill with the unmistakeable scent of blood when I shake Ma’s arm. She doesn’t wake up. There’s a dark stain on her pillow, and when I touch her hair, my fingers come away sticky. She’s bleeding from a cut on the top of her head.
“Ma!” I cradle her face. “Ma, wake up.”
She groans a little, but her eyes don’t open.
My foot brushes something on the floor. The bindings that were around William’s wrists. He probably talked her into taking them off so he could sleep. The window is open, and he must have gone out that way.
“Wake up!” I rush back into the living room and grab Cale’s shoulder. “Get up, Cale. William’s escaped.”
Bleary-eyed, he pulls himself up to sitting. “How long has he been gone?”
“It could have been hours. We need to get out of here. Now.” I open the door to Doctor Gregory’s room. “Doctor, get up. We have to leave. We’re all in danger.”
“What?” She gets out of bed, pulling a dressing gown over her pyjamas. “What’s going on?”
“Get dressed. Hurry.” I turn back to Cale, not caring that he’s still doing up his jeans. “We’ll take Ma to the hospital—”
Then I hear something that sends a chill down my spine. I spin toward the door.
“Milla? What–?”
“Shhh.” I gesture at Cale to be quiet. Metal boots are pounding on the sidewalk outside. “A squad of knights,” I hiss.
Doctor Gregory hurries out of her bedroom. “Are they patrolling?”
“They’re coming fast. Running.” Definitely not just a random patrol. “They’re coming for us. We need to get out of here.” I rush to the living room window, pushing it open. “This way. Doctor Gregory, quick. We need to get out. They’re almost here.”
Metal boots pound up the front steps, then somebody kicks the front door. It bursts open so hard, it splinters into pieces.
A knight stands in the doorway
, its huge, armored body taking up so much of the frame that it almost blocks it entirely. The knight lets out a satisfied grunt when its eyes lock onto mine.
“Hello again, dear sister,” says the knight.
William.
Cale steps in front of me, probably trying to be gallant and protect me. With my increased strength, I should be the one protecting him, but all I can do is gape past him, at the knight standing in the doorway.
William came back. Director Morelle gave him a new Knight Skin and sent him back here to find us. Any faint hope he might not want to hurt us disappears when the rest of his squad crowd into the house behind him.
Six knights. Four humans, including Ma who’s still unconscious. The odds don’t give me much hope for survival.
“What are you doing here, William?” I ask breathlessly. “Can we talk? Will you listen to—?”
“No.” He strides toward me until he gets to the doctor’s first workbench, laden with all kinds of electronic gadgets. He flips it over, throwing it sideways. The heavy table slams against the wall, and everything that was on it crashes to the floor.
“I’m not here to talk,” he snarls. “As a favor to me, President Morelle allowed me to be the one to come and kill you all.”
“President Morelle?” asks Cale. He’s still standing in front of me, and I elbow him out of the way as William answers.
“Trask died. President Morelle’s in charge, as she should be.”
I drag in a shaky breath. If only I could transfer back into the Knight Skin. With it, we might have a chance, though it would be six knights against one. In desperation, I reach out with my mind, searching for it. But the safe house is a long way from here. Too far away for me to transfer into it.
“I don’t want to fight you.” I lift both hands to William, showing him my bare palms. “I love you. I won’t hurt you, even though you’ve injured Ma, and she never did anything to deserve being treated like that.”
William gives a laugh filled with such derision, the sound just about rips my heart out. “You don’t want to fight me? That’s so sweet, dearest sister. But I’d like you to put up a fight. It’ll be more fun that way. You might even live a few seconds longer.”
