by T. C. Edge
“This is it,” he says. “I'll go first, make sure the coast is clear.”
He stands up with a grunt and twists the grate open. Slowly, he lifts it and pushes it to one side. Gradually, he creates enough space for the top of his head to peek out. We collectively hold our breath as we watch.
His eyes scan in all directions until he's satisfied. Then he bends down again, nods, and removes the grate entirely from our path. Quickly now, we all climb; Drake first, then Markus, then myself, and finally Stein. As the last to exit, Stein replaces the grate and we all crouch low, getting our bearings.
For me, this area of the city is unrecognised. During my time here I explored much of it, but not all. This area appears very similar to where I lived; nothing but a residential area used for housing some of the city's less favoured and important workers, the Testers apparently among them.
When I look to Drake and Markus, however, I see mouths agape and eyes staring. Their gazes wander this way and that, taking in the vast majesty of it all. I remember my first time stepping through the perimeter wall and seeing the city for the first time. I can honestly say I've never been quite so overwhelmed.
Of course, that was a different time. I was just arriving at my new home. Now, we're in enemy territory. There's no time to stand and stare. No time to ogle the place. After a couple of moments of pure awe and wonderment, both Drake and Markus remember themselves and look to Stein.
Crouching low, he leads us off to the shadows of a building, watching closely for movement as we go. It's unexpectedly quiet, the city appearing in no state of alarm at all. In fact, it looks no different to when I was last here, when Theo and I crept off at night to infiltrate the archives. That was the night I found out that Jackson was still alive.
It was the night that everything changed...
“OK, so where now?” asks Drake in a hushed whisper.
“Only a block away,” says Stein.
He peeks around the side of the building before continuing. Staying low, we dart between the shadows. Not a light seems to be on in the residences around us, not a single person stirring. And no soldiers on patrol. No guards. It makes me feel uneasy.
Soon, we're reaching the appropriate building. Stein opens the door and we go inside. It's silent and dark, but as we enter a light goes on, bright against the darkness outside.
“Damn it...how do we turn it off,” whispers Drake.
“They're automatic, dad,” I say.
Stein, ignoring us, is quickly rushing towards a board fixed to the side of the lift. On it are a list of names, floors, and room numbers. I go over to join him as Drake and Markus frantically search for a light switch.
“Leeta...” whispers Stein, running his finger down the list.
To my surprise, there are a couple of them on there. Perhaps the name Leeta isn't so uncommon here.
“Surname?” asks Stein.
I look at the two options; Ashworthy and Miller. I only heard her surname once, after the Pairing when she came to me and Theo's parents to offer her congratulations.
“Ashworthy,” I say.
“Perfect. Floor 12, room 6. Drake, Markus, come on...”
The two men come over, having failed in their task.
“OK, all of you, into the lift...”
We pile in, push the button for the 12th floor, and begin our ascent. Suddenly, I feel oddly nervous. What if she doesn't want to see me after I left? What if she won't help us? What if she starts screaming and gives the game away?
My heart pounds as the floors tick by one by one. By the time we reach 12 I'm forcing myself to take deep breaths and trying to focus my mind.
“Cyra, are you OK?” asks Drake.
“I...I just don't know how she'll react.”
Stein's hand lands on my shoulder.
“Remember, Cyra, it's down to you now. She must help us. You have to make her.”
I nod, and we step out into the corridor, dimly lit along its flanks with low lights. Slowly, nervously, we approach room 6, and I step towards the front.
“You three should remain out of sight for now,” I whisper. “Otherwise we might freak her out.”
They step away either side of the door and push themselves up against the wall. My hand reaches forward to knock.
“Um, honey,” says Drake. “Your mask...”
“Right, thanks dad.”
I take my morph mask off, revealing my true identity, and thrust it into my bag. Then, with a lightly closed fist, I begin to knock.
Knock...knock...knock. The sound echoes down the corridor as my knuckles rap on the door.
There's no answer.
I knock a little louder.
Nothing.
Then, in the quiet, I hear the sound of breathing, of mumbling beyond.
“It...it can't be,” comes a shaky voice.
Slowly, the door clicks open, and beyond it, hidden in the darkness, I see the image of the at times insufferably positive woman I once knew. Only now, that exuberance has gone. Her face, already pale, has grown pallid and sallow. Her hair, always black and well positioned, is lank and greasy. Her shape, previously plump, has been stripped of much of its fat. And her eyes, always so bright and breezy, are dark and hooded, sunken into her skull.
“Hi, Leeta,” I whisper, smiling.
She remains in the doorway, the door only ajar, eyes shifting left and right and then sticking once more to me.
“Is...is that really you, Cyra?”
I lean forwards, and she recoils a touch.
“It's really me, Leeta. And I really need to talk.”
She hovers in the doorway, unsure. Her eyes look more manic, twirling and shaking in their sockets as she thinks. She seems like a ghost of who she once was, lost inside herself. Then, suddenly, she makes her decision, her eyes focusing on me again as she steps back, opens the door a little more so I can slip in, and then shuts it tight.
It's almost pitch black inside. I bring out my torch and click it on. The bright light causes her to cover her eyes, so I douse it using a piece of spare clothing in my bag.
“Is Eve deactivated?” I ask.
The last thing I want is for the city A.I. to listen to our conversation.
She nods. “Yes. I always keep her deactivated now.” Her voice is brittle, holds a tone of incessant fear within it.
“What happened to you, Leeta?” I ask.
She turns away, and I see a tear drifting from her eye. I give her time to regain her composure before she begins to speak.
“You,” she says. “You and Ellie and Link and Theo. You happened.”
“What do you mean?” I ask softly.
“When you left, they thought I might know something. They...tortured me, Cyra. I had nothing to tell them, but they didn't stop.”
The tears begin flowing as she speaks. Her eyes show me that she's reliving her torment, even now.
“I'm so sorry...”
“They gave up eventually,” she continues through her sniffs. “I spent some time in hospital, and have been back here since, trying to do my duty.”
“That's terrible, Leeta...and that's why we're back.”
Her eyes rise up, tear stained.
“I heard about the others,” she says. “Rumours are going round that Ellie and Theo and your Jackson were captured on Tartarus. What's going on, Cyra? I don't understand...”
“We were there to help a man escape. A man called Aeneas Stein.”
Her eyes grow wider.
“Aeneas Stein. He's...alive?”
“Yes,” I say. “In fact, he's waiting just outside this room.”
She gasps, and her hand rushes towards her mouth.
I move towards the door, open it gently while keeping my eyes on Leeta, and whisper out: “you can come in now.”
Moments later, the three men enter, now shorn of their morph masks. Leeta looks upon the trio with shock, but her eyes primarily fix to Stein, his tall, withered frame pacing in with the ease of a younger man
. He goes straight towards Leeta and looks down at her with twinkling eyes.
“Miss Ashworthy,” he says, “it's a pleasure to meet you.”
And with that, Leeta's own eyes glaze over, and she drops to the floor with a thud. Stein turns around and looks at us, shrugging and smiling.
“Looks like I've still got it,” he says.
Despite everything, and the unconscious woman on the floor, we can't help but chuckle. I suspect it will be the last time I laugh in quite some time...
28 - A Secret Mission
We crowd around as I pat Leeta's cheek, softly at first and then with a little more force until she begins to come to.
Looking up into the crowd of both familiar and unfamiliar faces around her threatens to send her back into the blackness, so I grip her head and force her eyes on me.
“Leeta, it's me, Cyra. You passed you. How do you feel?”
She gulps and blinks hard a few times.
“OK..I'm OK. This is all just a bit overwhelming.”
I help her to her feet and sit her on the bed, while the others arrange themselves around the room. Stein comes near, smiling kindly. Drake hovers in the middle distance, standing upright and firm. Markus slinks into the corner, knowing his input will be minimal.
I, meanwhile, sit next to her and wrap my arm around her body.
“It's so good to see you, Leeta,” I say. “I didn't think I'd miss you this much...”
She looks at me, and her eyes warm.
“Cyra, you were always a difficult case,” she says, her usual ways returning. “But it's good to see you too. Albeit, I'd prefer if it were under different circumstances.”
“I'm afraid, my dear Leeta, that we have to take what we're given,” chimes in Stein.
He approaches, kneels down before her, and takes her hand in his.
“I remember you, Mr Stein,” says Leeta. “From my younger days, I remember you. I thought you were killed?”
“Not killed, but sent to hell,” he says. “Augustus wanted me to suffer, I suppose, or die in a most horrific way down there. We're here to put a stop to his reign.”
“And to save the others,” I say quickly. “Leeta, do you know what's happening with them?”
I look at her eagerly, hoping for something in her expression to tell me she has information that will help us. Her face curls up in pain, and she can hardly look at me when she speaks.
“I heard there will be a public execution,” she says.
My vision...it's turning real, getting closer.
“When?” I ask quickly.
“Saturday,” she says regretfully.
“Saturday? What day it is now?!”
“It's coming into Friday. It will be dawn soon,” says Stein.
I stand up, suddenly, and rush towards the window. I pull open the curtains and look out, searching for signs that the world is waking. It's still pitch black.
“Cyra, come away from there,” says Drake. He bounds forward and pulls me back, closing the curtains.
I ignore him, turn back to Leeta.
“Where are they being kept?!”
“I...I don't know. The prison holding block, probably.”
I turn now to Stein, frantic.
“Where are the cells?” I ask him. “We have to go, now...”
Stein begins shaking his head.
“No,” he says sternly. “It would be suicide. They will be too well protected. We must figure a better plan.”
“There's no better plan. We have to strike now, before they know we're here. While it's dark. We can use the laser to cut them free. We...we...we have to try!”
Drake comes forwards again, trying to calm me. I shove him off.
“No, dad, come on...let's go.”
No one else moves. Leeta hangs her head. Markus stays quiet in the corner.
“Aeneas is right,” says Drake. “We need to figure a plan. We have time, Cyra...be patient.”
“Patient! There's no time for patience!”
I sink down onto the bed and shut my eyes tight angrily. Flashes come to me again, of the dead faces of my friends, of the snarling, cruel smile of Knight, of the gun in my hand, the baying, roaring crowd.
I begin breathing heavily, my entire body shaking, panic striking through me like lightning. I hear voices as people come near to me, but my eyes begin to blur, my hearing fading into a void of murmurs and dull sounds.
Hands rush as my body weakens and droops. Faces fade into nothing. Then, everything turns black.
I swirl inside my subconscious, drifting into the future, seeing the public execution play out before me. It's all the same torture as before, only now, I know it's mere days, hours, away. It all just seems so inevitable, so impossible to stop.
I wake with tears in my eyes and the lingering view of death stamped upon them. I'm lying on the bed, and the room has grown with a natural light. I sit up, quickly, and hear the noise of the world outside.
Daytime has arrived.
Drake comes over from a chair.
“Honey, you're awake,” he says, his palm cupping my cheek. “I was worried about you.”
Tears drift down my cheeks as I look at the window. The curtains are still drawn, but the daylight spills through them. There's no chance now of staging a rescue...
“You should have let me go,” I whisper.
“Let you go, and let you die. No, Cyra, we have to be smarter than that.”
“You don't care about them anyway,” I say, still not making eye contact with him. “You're here to kill Knight, not save my friends.”
He doesn't answer. Because he doesn't have one to give, at least not one I want to hear. For him, everyone else is collateral damage in the face of the main goal. I wonder...am I as well?
I look around the room, and see Stein sleeping softly in a chair. Markus, too, seems to be catching a few winks. Leeta is conspicuous by her absence.
Drake reads my eyes.
“She's gone to perform her duty,” he says, “and to see if she can find out anything more about the execution tomorrow.”
Tomorrow...
“We need to stay here for now. We cannot venture out. We need to be smart now, Cyra. Can you do that?”
I take a while to respond, but eventually say: “OK.”
Then I turn away, lie down once more, and face the wall. I hear Drake move back to his chair. The room falls into a deep silence.
I know, right now, there's nothing I can do. I can hardly go rushing out there, into the middle of Eden, with nothing to hide me but my morph mask. I don't even know where I'd be headed, where my friends are being held, or how I'd gain access to where they are. Most likely, they're being guarded by Watchers too, maybe even Ajax, maybe even Link.
I'd be outmatched and outgunned, and would probably be killed right there and then. Really, I have no choice but to lie here and wait. Hopefully, when she returns, Leeta will have some news.
So that's what I do. I lie, and I wait. But I don't sleep. I just stare at the wall, not wanting to turn around. When Stein wakes, he begins speaking with Drake, considering our next course of action. Markus joins in, but like Drake, neither are able to offer much. Only Stein, who knows the city so well, is capable of providing any decent input.
I pretend to sleep to stay out of it. I hear Drake say that I 'need my rest'.
I don't. I need my friends back.
Eventually, however, I hear the sound of movement outside the door. I hear the men quickly snatch up their guns and aim, before Leeta enters with a frightened squeak.
Her presence brings me round. I turn and sit up.
“What did you learn?” I ask quickly, making it obvious I've been awake. “Did you hear anything?”
She wanders in, eyes staring, looking a little harassed.
“Let the poor woman catch her breath,” says Stein.
He moves forward and ushers her into the room. She looks exhausted from her day's exertions, emotionally drained. The cold light of day paints
her in an even more unfavourable light as last evening. She looks bedraggled and run down, as if she hasn't slept in weeks.
I shift aside on the bed to allow her space to sit. Stein offers some soothing words to coax out the information we're looking for. It appears to be a skill of his to make people feel at ease.
“So, Leeta, tell us what you've heard.”
“Nothing, really,” she says. “Just...the execution is being promoted publicly. It's no longer rumour. It will be held tomorrow...at 6 PM.” She looks at me, tears welling. “I'm so sorry, Cyra.”
“Do you have anything more?” Drake steps forward now. His words are more forceful than Stein's soft approach. “What about Knight?” he asks. “Will he be there?”
Her eyes drift from mine to my father's. She begins to nod.
“He'll be there,” she says.
We all look around at each other. Drake and Stein lock eyes in a moment of understanding.
“That's our time,” says Drake. “We'll kill him at the execution.”
“No one knows we're here, do they?” adds in Markus. “So they won't expect us.”
“It will be an ambush,” says Drake. He turns once more to Leeta. “Where will the execution take place?”
“In the central square of the city,” she says. She looks to me. “It's where you had your Pairing ceremony...with Theo.”
“And are there any high vantage points there?” asks Drake.
Leeta once more finds herself twisting towards the questioner.
“Um, there are high buildings all around the square,” she says.
Drake begins nodding, thinking, and then nodding harder.
“Aeneas, you know Knight better than anyone. What will his protection be like?”
“At a time like this? Considerable. Watchers, guards, you name it. He won't leave his life to chance.”
“OK, right, we have something to work with,” says Drake. “And we have time,” he says, looking to me, “to formulate a real plan of action. We will save your friends, Cyra...I promise.”
I don't trust him. And I don't say a word. Because I know that my words will mean nothing now. That whatever I say will be taken with a whole bucket load of bias. My priority is my friends; for the rest, it is killing Knight. I can't compete with the collective desire of these men, a desire that for Stein, and my father, has been brewing for years, even decades.
