Unclaimed (The Complex Book 0)

by Candice Gilmer

  Morrigan felt the shimmer of power in them, and a boost in her own energy when she held them aloft.

  They were the weapons of a Valkyrie--a small, almost unnoticeable sticks that could transform into any weapon necessary.

  Just by her thoughts.

  If she wanted a broadsword…

  The blade on her right hand transformed into a broadsword, and almost automatically, the knife in her left became a shield.

  She swung around the broadsword, feeling its power and strength--

  Crash!

  The light fixture over her small table tumbled to the floor, her broadsword having severed the connection line to the ceiling.

  “Oh no!” she cried and dropped the weapons. They transformed back to their small stick forms, and looked no larger than pencils on the floor.

  “Now you’ve done it,” she muttered, and started rummaging around in the apartment for something to clean up the mess. “This is why I have to stop doing this.” She sighed, sadness creeping over her.

  She shook her head.

  She wasn’t magical anymore. While her thoughts could still control the weapons, she doubted even that would last much longer, and then she truly would just have two sticks to hold her hair up.

  Then what would she be? Not Valkyrie. Not Human.

  Just something in between.

  A creature that used to be something.

  “I’m going to destroy everything,” she said as she dressed in some of her Complex clothing. Naturally, she couldn’t find anything for cleaning her mess.

  “Computer, how can I clean this mess up?”

  “Manual override of the cleaning program initiated,” came the computer’s soft voice. And sure enough, from the wall came a little square box that started moving over the floors, slowly getting closer to the shattered glass.

  “How long will this take?” She stepped carefully around the broken pieces.

  “One hour. You have a faulty light. Maintenance has been notified to repair the problem.”

  “Uh, thank you?”

  “Have a pleasant day,” the computer replied. The little box whirled a bit as it worked in its rhythmic pattern around the room.

  “Well, okay then,” Morrigan said as she scooped up her hair stick-slash-weapons. She glanced at herself in the mirror while she rolled her hair into its usual bun and plunged the sticks in to secure it.

  Glancing at the little square rolling around the floor, she found herself a little amused. She almost always got crumbs of something on the floor, but the floor was always clean. She’d never really thought about it before, but seeing this explained it. And the little device was so quiet, she would have never noticed it if she hadn’t seen it come out of its nook in the wall.

  Just a slight noise as the little device worked, but really not enough to jar her attention.

  She grimaced when she looked back at herself and the gray pants and white shirt she had to wear--all unflattering to her figure, making her look like a bag. Still, she had no time with work to update her own clothing, and she had very little choice. All clothing was provided by the Complex. In black, white and gray.

  She was seriously considering asking one of the restaurants for a vat of some kind of red sauce to roll her clothing in.

  Maybe a farmer…

  They had all the food.

  Maybe she could get some juicy pink fruit to soak her clothing in. In her mind, the idea flew though varying incantations, including the eventual probability that others would dye their clothing too.

  Then there’d be a rebellion.

  A clothing rebellion.

  The thought made her giggle as she glanced at her depressingly bland clothing. She tugged at her top.

  This was going to be a long two and a half years in these drab clothes. Especially when they fit like this.

  Ugh. She might as well get to work at Uni Tailoring. She thought about bringing her other pants to work on while she was there. The machines allowed her to tailor the clothing in only a couple of minutes, but personal work was not allowed on company time.

  Besides, there were over a hundred thousand beings in the Complex, and many of them didn’t like the fit of their Complex-given clothing. Morrigan spent a lot of hours a day reshaping the baggy clothes into something more flattering for their owners. They all had to be here for two and a half years, and many wanted to try to dress well during that time.

  Morrigan could complain all she wanted, but truly, she was starting to like the simple work. Who would have thought adding a line on her application about knowing how to sew with old-fashioned needle and thread would find her placed in Uni Tailoring?

  Leaving her apartment, she watched people walking toward the nearest zipper pickup station to be shuttled into Main City.

  Two women who were also waiting had their clothing fitted to their shapes. It made such a difference in their appearance, compared to the other half-dozen or so who had not done it. Though from the way the women glanced at everyone, with their noses turned up like that, either they were sniffing for something or they thought they were better than everyone else.

  But really, from what she’d gleaned already from residents, Morrigan was pretty certain even the wealthiest here wasn’t here for a grand time.

  Everyone was running from something.

  The Complex was merely a two-and-a-half year pause to pass the time.

  ~*~*~

  “You’re bright and giddy, Mori,” Ula said--or rather grumbled--over her own cup of coffee, using the nickname she’d given Morrigan after they had started spending time together.

  She didn’t mind it. It made her smile, anyway. She’d never had a nickname before. It was a pleasant change from the formality of Valhalla.

  She rather liked it.

  Morrigan shrugged. “Been awake a while.” She’d decided to grab a couple of cups and take them to Ula’s suite.

  She and Ula had met up at least a couple times a week since they’d gotten settled. Ula was a Leprechaun, which explained the magical scent she seemed to exude everywhere she went, not to mention Ula’s preference to work alone. Had Mori seen any rainbows around her new friend? No. As a matter of fact, Ula was a bit grumpy.

  But Mori still liked her. She liked even more that Ula respected her privacy. She didn’t ask why Mori never seemed to sleep, and Mori didn’t ask her why she’d run here to hide from whoever was looking for her.

  Besides what she’d gleaned on the transport the first day, Morrigan really didn’t know much about Ula.

  Though the longer she was in the Complex, the more she recognized that most of the people were there for all sorts of self-preservation.

  Ula was just one of those.

  Ula sipped on her coffee, and a dribble slipped down over her bright pink sleeping gown.

  Mori couldn’t take her eyes off the cloth, only because she loved the color.

  “Damn,” Ula said, and started wiping up the dribble. “I swear, I need a bib.”

  She smiled. “I’m just impressed you got that in here.”

  Ula shrugged. “It could have been stuffed in my bag in the protective lining.”

  “How’d you get a bag in here with that?”

  Ula grinned. “We programmers are really creative.”

  Morrigan smirked. She couldn’t say a thing. She wore two very lethal weapons in her hair every single day.

  “I bet.” Morrigan sipped on her coffee. “Are you still liking it down in the depths?”

  Ula laughed. “Programming maintenance is the most boring job ever. I swear, I thought I would have gotten something that allowed me to work on some kind of system that would be fun. With my experience as a programmer? I could probably reprogram the environmental stuff to make it rain every day if I wanted to. But what do they have me doing? Running countless scans on the automatic systems, looking for any kind of problem with the programming.”

  “Do you find problems?”

  “Nothing that I can’t fix in like, fi
ve seconds.”

  “There will be a challenge for you soon enough.”

  Ula raised her eyebrow. “Are you getting that for me? Or are you just being nice?”

  “Being nice.”

  “Damn.” Ula sighed as she changed really quickly into her grays. The only color on her clothing was the same orange “U” on everyone’s clothes.

  “So, have you gleaned anything interesting off anyone?” Ula asked as she started pinning up her hair.

  “I don’t do it on purpose.”

  “I know. But sometimes you gotta get stuff on accident.”

  Mori shook her head. “I wish I didn’t. It makes it difficult to be in crowds.” She maintained distance from people as much as possible, Ula being one of the few who knew of her special power.

  The problem was, if her touch gleaned a being’s future, she had to tell them, or it thundered in her mind until she released it back into the universe.

  If she didn’t tell, it would make her crazy.

  Unfortunately, though, many didn’t want to know. So she stayed away from people, as much as she could.

  Ula’s eyes lit up. “Huh. Now there’s a puzzle.”

  “What?”

  “You need a suit of some kind. With a shield that protects you.” Ula started moving around, and speaking very rapidly to herself as she picked up her gown, wadding the pink fabric in her hand.

  Mori tensed, watching the pink fabric get wrinkled. “Ula no, what are you doing? You’re wrinkling your gown.”

  Ula shook her head and tossed the gown to Morrigan. “Here. You are the clothing person.”

  Mori caught it and started folding up the soft fabric.

  Ula continued to pace, gesturing wildly with her hands. “You need a protective suit. One that keeps you from reading people when you don’t want to. So you can be in the crowds. And I bet I can make you one--with the same tech I used to smuggle in my gown.”

  “What? You don’t need to do that. Really, Ula I’m fine.”

  “You cower in crowds. I’ve seen you do it. I betcha anything I can put that together pretty simply. I’ll just need, um… clothing. And some wires and the…” Her voice trailed off.

  Mori shook her head. “Ula, you can’t do this. You have a job. Just like me.” She checked the digital clock on the wall. “In fact, we’re both going to be late if we don’t get down there.”

  “Right,” Ula said as she glanced around her room. “And don’t worry, I have plenty of time. This is exactly what I need, a new challenge.”

  “You’re going to get in trouble at work.”

  Ula rolled her eyes. “Please. I wrote a code the first hour that does my job for me. I spend my days hacking the data streams running all through this place. You would be amazed what I know about what goes on here.”

  “Ula.”

  The woman grinned as they headed out of the small apartment.

  Chapter Five

  After grabbing more coffee and a breakfast burrito from the Uni John’s stand near her shop, Mori clocked into work.

  She tried all the way down to Main City to convince Ula she didn’t need to create her some kind of suit to keep her from gleaning predictions from others, but Ula wouldn’t have it.

  Ula’s eyes glowed with excitement over the idea.

  While Morrigan doubted anything would work, she appreciated Ula’s enthusiasm. She didn’t have the heart to tell her friend that the gift would soon fade. She hoped it might be completely gone by the time she left the Complex. If she had to be mortal, she wanted to be completely mortal. No powers. No skills.

  Yet some lingered. Odin couldn’t take away her visions, but their strength would fade, since Valkyrie magic amplified it. Eventually she would be no different than a Human.

  Hopefully that came sooner rather than later.

  Mori put her coffee on the back table near the door to the break room and glanced at the list of jobs that needed to be done for this shift.

  She sighed.

  Off to work she went.

  Her boss, a Meta named Forrester, must have heard her come in. He practically bounced over to her, and she could feel the energy radiating off him. He was far more excited than usual this morning.

  She did not know him well enough yet to be certain if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

  Mori took a step away--distance was her best defense against accidental gleaning, regardless of Ula’s plans.

  “What is going on, Forrester?” she asked, as she noticed that she was the only one in the shop so far. While the automatic machines hummed away, the day crew hadn’t stumbled in just yet.

  He grinned, his pointy teeth glimmering. He’d never been anything but kind to her--to all the employees--yet those sparkling teeth of his still intimidated her. He was one of the more dangerous shifter breeds in the Complex, though his personality was far from dangerous. She certainly wouldn’t want to see him upset.

  “I just got a call from the head of Climintra!”

  Her eyes widened. “Why?” Had maintenance seen her room? Had they turned her in for having a weapon? Her hand darted to her hair, where the sticks resided, bundling it up.

  She could get exiled for having contraband, and she’d be back to where she was before she applied. Broke. Homeless. And begging in the streets.

  She couldn’t go back to that…

  Almost immediately, her mind slid into a mode it had not touched in what seemed an eternity.

  Battle mode.

  In her mind’s eye, she immediately saw the Complex--its layout, how the buildings worked together, entrances and exits, movements of the Intra. The mathematical equations of outcomes of possible escape patterns flashed in her thoughts, as though her body no longer existed, and she was on a different plane--

  “We’ve gotten the contract to take care of Intra’s uniforms!” Forrester’s exuberant voice jarred Mori out of the mental plane.

  She stopped and blinked, the distorted view of the Complex fading away behind her eyes. “Pardon?”

  Forrester was dancing around the shop.

  “Weren’t you listening?” he asked. “We have a contract with Climintra to help keep the uniforms pristine and repaired!”

  A wash of relief ran over her.

  They weren’t coming for her…

  Yet as the sensation faded, a slight disappointment washed over her. She hadn’t accessed that aspect of her powers since, well, before.

  She hadn’t thought she could still do that. Part of a Valkyrie’s power was to watch, and help control wars and battles. Conductors of the fights. Know the outcomes before they happened, to know which warriors to take and which would live to fight another day.

  A tiny spark lit and warmed in her heart. Maybe, just maybe, some of her powers were coming back.

  “Morrigan!” Forrester jarred her from her thoughts. “Say something!”

  She blinked, staring at her boss, and focused on the moment. Her boss’s exuberance started to infect her.

  Mori grinned. “That’s wonderful. Congratulations!”

  He nodded. “We’re thrilled,” he said, referring to his partner Cole, who handled the night shift there at Uni Tailoring. They both owned the business together, one running the day and the other running the night. With all the Metas in the Complex, there were always nocturnal species to run the overnight hours. It was one of the few Uni businesses on the edge of the housing areas, allowing it to stay open overnight and work.

  The door to the shop opened, and in came a coworker, distracting Forrester. Mori darted to the back so she could eat her food, puzzling over the powers that had presented themselves just now.

  While she ate, she wondered what this meant for her future. If she was regaining her powers, would she be able to return home?

  Return to Valhalla?

  She could only hope.

  Chapter Six

  “I’ll have the steak burrito,” Luke said to the blonde behind the counter at his new favorite greasy spoon in the main
hub of the Complex.

  A month in, and he’d found a few favorite places to eat. This one, Uni John’s, had a mix of a lot of old earthen food, the kind of stuff that made him think about, well…

  Old stuff.

  From before. When he hadn’t been part machine. Or part soldier.

  She smiled. “Your usual, then,” she said as she punched the order in on the panel in front of her.

  “I like simple things.”

  Her grin got a little bigger. “Me too. Being alive is beautiful.”

  He nodded, forcing a smile. “Sure.” What the hell was up with her?

  She turned to get his order, thankfully removing him from having to have any more pretend cheery conversation.

  His communication chip buzzed, and he didn’t have to look to know what it was.

  Dumol.

  She needed another favor.

  He sighed. Storing her contraband wasn’t why he was here. Though really, he didn’t know why he was here. No orders were given. He had only been instructed to be here in case…

  And he’d been a solider long enough to know what in case meant.

  Here he was, taking orders again. He didn’t want to be, but what choice did he have? And now he had Dumol’s shit on top of that?

  Fuck.

  Not exactly how he wanted to spend his time. What was that old Earth phrase? No rest for the nefarious. Or something like that.

  He glanced around. Everyone in the little open courtyard was overly cheery. There wasn’t a grumpy face anywhere, except for his.

  Odd.

  In that way, that made him nervous.

  The girl returned with his food, already bundled in a bag for him to take back to his apartment. “Here you go. Hope you enjoy! I threw a couple extra cinnamon treats in there for you.”

  He raised his eyebrow. “Thanks. You’re awfully cheery.”

  “Guess I’m just happy everything’s working right. We had to have maintenance out this morning to fix a few things, and she was just so nice and happy, I think it rubbed off on everyone.”

  He nodded as he scanned his palm to pay for the food.

  Huh.