by V. St. Clair
“I may have heard some information from a friend of a friend that I think you would be interested in. The problem is, I don’t want to get dragged into the Augenspire and chemically tortured over who I heard it from. I’d rather there not be any records of it on file at all, actually, as I’m taking a horrible risk in even bringing this to your attention, and I would hate for this gesture of goodwill to be repaid in pain and suffering.”
Topher was prepared to accept any terms she wanted to name as long as she gave him something useful, but he didn’t want to sound too eager. No reason to let an outsider know that the problems plaguing him might originate from within the Augenspire itself.
“So you’re thinking of another in-person meeting between us? That can be arranged,” he suggested, though truthfully this suited him better as well. Until he was certain of where the threat against the Viceroy and his daughters originated, he wasn’t exactly keen on trusting any of the servers here with sensitive information either.
“I…think it will have to be, yes,” Ana acknowledged hesitantly. “I know I can’t exactly hold you to any oaths either, but I would appreciate it if you could take the information for what it is and forget where you heard it from.”
Topher frowned thoughtfully. She was asking for immunity from the consequences associated with the information she was giving him. Topher was not flippant with his promises, as he considered them binding and would not break his word except in the most dire of circumstances.
“I’m not sure I can promise you blanket immunity from my scrutiny,” he said truthfully. “If you tell me you are involved in a treasonous plot, for instance, I would be obligated by my position to inform the appropriate parties and do all I can to remove the threat. If you are relaying information that will benefit the government and allows me to correct or avoid an existing problem, then I am willing to remove your name from it and we can pretend we never spoke.”
Remember…an echo in his head, which Topher ignored.
Ana nodded as though she expected this, but she didn’t immediately answer him. Finally, she said, “I…think I still want to meet, but I may need a few days to prepare.”
Telling your loved ones where you’ll be in case I drag you back to the Augenspire with me anyway? Topher wondered.
“Alright,” he said out loud, since he couldn’t force her to tell him anything she didn’t want to reveal, and hurrying her wouldn’t help. Well, he technically could force her—that was what she feared—but it would be better to get the information freely than to waste precious time in an interrogation trying to figure out what was truth, what was lies, and what was just drug-induced babble.
“How should I get in touch with you when I’m ready to meet?” she asked lightly, and he considered the question for a moment before answering.
“Are you calling me from your direct line?” He could have checked it easily on his own, but it seemed better to downplay his ability to find her against her wishes in this case.
“Yes.”
Topher nodded and said, “I’ll message you my direct number. Call me when you’re ready to meet. Don’t be concerned if I don’t answer; depending on my duty schedule I may not be in a position to use the phone at any given time. Leave a message with a place and time and if you don’t hear from me, I’ll be there.”
Ana swallowed hard but nodded at this and said, “Okay, well, thanks. I’ll…uh…talk to you soon.”
“I look forward to it.” He ended the call, hoping she would follow up with him soon. She had definitely gotten his interest, and he had a feeling this was the information he was waiting for, the thing that would break him out of the deadlock within his own mind and get things moving again.
Was it coincidence that I chose to go to the Anomalies building that day and sit in the back with the right Talents equipped? Was it coincidence when I followed her out of the room because I knew she wasn’t really unconscious and struck up a conversation with her? Or was it intuition and fate? Would I already have the answers I needed from her if the others hadn’t ended our conversation early that day?
There was no denying that something about the whole thing felt like more than coincidence and luck. Something about Ana had intrigued him from the beginning, had flagged her in his mind as being important, even though he still didn’t know why.
Then again, my mental prowess is nothing to write home about these days…
He contemplated ignoring her request for time and simply appearing in her room later tonight to force the issue; after all, he had her name and could easily track her location and any other personal detail he wanted to know about her with little effort. But that kind of move could end in disaster, and she would certainly never come to him with sensitive information again if he betrayed her trust. Due to his position, he had never acquired a Gifted informant before, but it would definitely be worth adding to his file of contacts in the future. Developing this contact properly and putting her at ease would be very important.
If she didn’t call him in a few days, he would reach out to her again to make sure she hadn’t gotten cold feet, or that nothing bad had happened to her before she could speak with him. He was feeling particularly twitchy and paranoid these days.
He put his sensory-enhancing Talent back into his right enhancer and stared out the window, focusing in on the Academy. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting—to see Ana waving up at him from the valley below?—but he felt compelled to search for her anyway.
It was a futile task. The Academy was huge, and with his vision so narrowly focused, it was impossible to search the entire outdoor area quickly, never mind that the various buildings blocked huge swaths of the area from his vision. He did see a middle-aged Gifted man staring up in his general direction, but this wasn’t unusual. The Gifted often stared up at the Augenspire from below, and occasionally he wondered whether they were wondering if he was staring back at them.
He removed his Talent and stepped away from the window, heading for the door and hoping Darius was gone and he would be able to escape his newly-appointed task of tutoring the man for today. Maybe he should leave the Augenspire and take a walk?
No, the voice in his head said very clearly, startling him so badly he nearly jumped out of his armor. He usually had no idea what the strange voice was filtering into his mind, but this particular sentiment had come across very clearly.
Someday the physiologists were going to notice there was something wrong with his brain during his annual check-ups, but so far they had reported nothing structurally or electrically off about him. Then again, perhaps insanity didn’t show up on a scan? Most brain diseases eventually did, but Topher had never heard of a Provo-Major ever having his particular problem before. If he wasn’t being hacked by outsiders, he probably had something new and untested.
Great, they can name it after me…Topher thought mulishly, peeking out into the hall to see if Darius was gone. Some new enhancer-induced schizophrenia…Topher Syndrome.
The way looked clear, so he stepped out into the hall and moved purposefully towards the main elevators, deciding to get in some of his weekly conditioning. He was unlikely to encounter Darius Hamish in the training room, and working himself to exhaustion seemed like a good use of his pent-up energy right now.
Just as he passed through the main living room, Darius popped up from a padded couch and said, “Major Topher, are you finished with your call?”
Damn it all to hell.
Since Topher was plainly not on the phone anymore, he forced his annoyance away and said, “I am, thank you.”
“Did it go well?” Darius solicited hesitantly, perhaps wondering if it was an improper question to ask.
Topher tried to have pity on the man. It could hardly be easy to be suddenly transported from the plush, easy life he had always known and thrown into the hard, cold utility of the government.
“It did,” he replied neutrally. “Would you like to meet now?” he offered, moving towards the white couches and wish
ing they were easier to get comfortable on when he was wearing his light armor.
“If you’re able to, that would be great,” Darius answered eagerly.
Damn it, Jessa, the things I do for you…
“Alright then, let’s begin with the basics.” Topher suppressed a sigh and took a seat across from the man who stood between him and happiness. Well, that wasn’t exactly true; technically Jessamine’s title and position and personal feelings stood between him and happiness, but Darius was the physical manifestation of all that was unfair about life.
“You mean basics like…how to sound intelligent in a tactical review?” Darius tried hopefully.
“I mean ‘basics’ as in: How To Avoid Getting Stabbed By Your Wife,” Topher corrected. “If there’s one thing you must know about Jessamine, it is that she is extremely intelligent, capable, and absolutely hates being talked down to by people who know less about her business than she does. Also, never call her ‘Jessie’; she loathes it.”
Darius made a face at this and said, “I think…I was right to come to you for help.”
Sighing audibly and wanting to hate the man, Topher said, “So do I. Now, start taking notes, because I’m not going to repeat myself and we have a lot of ground to cover.”
21
Carl Vucanis
Today was the day.
The first test of how well Hera’s people had done at prepping him for the psychological testing of the Augenspire, after weeks of drinking increasing doses of truth serums and enduring trial interrogations.
Carl was still technically in recovery from his nightmarish bus accident, though physically he was feeling much better. Staring down at his right arm, it was hard to tell it had been entirely amputated and replaced by synthetics, because it looked and felt the same as his other arm. They had even cloned the few freckles he had on the bicep of the original arm and grown the hair on the new one to match.
GMH definitely earned their five-star review from me.
He had filled out one of the comment cards before leaving, much to the amusement of the Provo-Minor who were with him at check-out. It seemed like the least he could do in exchange for repairing most of his body after he tried to eat a fast-moving sky-bus.
Since his release, he had taken a few weeks of light duty to recover more fully, which mostly entailed going to a few of his classes and taking a walk whenever he felt up to it. Enough time had passed for him to be deemed healthy again, and he’d visited the Augenspire training grounds twice to do some basic workouts with the regular army, though he had no idea which squadron was the one he would be commanding. He suspected it was more to show the Minors and the Ground Captain who was assessing him that he was fit enough to comply with the physical demands of the job.
He had done well enough at the tests so far, though they did tell him there would be a three-month basic training camp he would need to complete upon officially being accepted, which was allegedly more rigorous. Either way, Carl didn’t doubt his ability to meet whatever physical demands they had of him. His concern had always been with the psych tests.
A ground-car had been sent for him at the Academy today. Carl could see it through his window, parked at the main entrance to the Deco-Reco dorms, waiting on him. A few people walked past it and looked around curiously, though the driver was leaned against the closed door in his official uniform, playing around on his communicator and ignoring the attention.
Well, here goes nothing.
Carl looked over his appearance once more in the mirror before leaving. His sandy blond hair wasn’t sticking out anywhere, his brown eyes were bright and alert, and his clothing didn’t have any embarrassing wrinkles or stains on them.
Time to go.
He looked around his room one last time on the off-chance he never saw it again. If he did poorly on this psych test today, they might uncover his ties to Hera and lock him up in a cell for the rest of his short but miserable life.
In a way, it was lucky he’d nearly been killed by that sky-bus, since it bought him time for Hera’s people to work on a solution for him. He could avoid Veritan now, but the lesser truth drugs were still extremely effective, so it would still be quite difficult to lie through them, even with the regular dosing he had been receiving from Hera’s scientists to try and build up his tolerance.
He tried to push his worries from his mind as he approached the ground-car, greeting the driver politely.
“Hello there. Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“It’s no problem. Please be seated.” He didn’t open the door for Carl, but Carl didn’t mind, taking a seat in the back and shutting the door behind him.
The outside of the car was sleek and black and stamped with the government’s crest in dark grey on either side: a letter ‘A’ in a circle that was entwined with the three pillars of government: the staff of justice, the fist of might, and the book of law.
The inside of the car was black as well, the paneling done in a high-gloss plastic that looked like glass, and the seating upholstered in smooth black fabric. It was surprisingly less ostentatious than he would have imagined for a government vehicle, lacking most of the high-end add-ons present in a luxury car.
The driver pulled away from Building-6 and rolled smoothly onto the main roadway, passing one of the buses shuttling the Gifted around to different parts of the Academy and continuing in a wide, sweeping circle towards one of the main exits from the Academy itself. They were actually closer to one of the exits that led into downtown Silveria, but ground traffic would be nightmarish at this time of day, so Carl could understand why they were staying in the Academy until they hit the Augenspire-side exit instead.
Carl stared out the window, marking their progress by the clock-tower standing at the center of the Academy. When they started their drive, it was to the north of them, but as they approached their exit it was to the southwest. It had taken about twenty minutes to navigate their way around the Academy, and they now took Exit-1 onto the Augenspire Expressway.
The government had enough people coming and going to its main building every day that they eventually commissioned their own expressway to handle the bulk of their traffic. Built two floors above ground-level, it routed traffic from various parts of Silveria—and several other nearby cities—directly to the Augenspire.
The driver pulled into line behind one other vehicle at the on-ramp, which was too steep for any ground-car to climb without assistance. They rolled gently onto a conveyor belt that latched onto the wheels, locking the car in place as they were towed up the ramp at a sharp incline. Carl was pushed back against his seat as they banked upwards.
At the top of the ramp, the way leveled out and the claws popped free from the wheels, allowing them to drive off and merge with traffic.
Carl had only been on the Augenspire Expressway for his recent interviews and tests, so it was still a novelty to drive around at this level and look out the window at the sights below him. Traffic was much thinner here at this time of day, and they passed two cars taking the first exit they approached just as the driver got a call on his communicator.
The car patched it through the sound system, so Carl was able to hear a Provo-Minor say, “You’re late. Were you in an accident?”
“Worse,” the driver responded flatly. “Academy traffic.”
“How much longer will you be? Minor Vera and Minor Holt are tired of waiting.”
They must be the two who would be conducting his psychological exam. Carl noticed they had someone new with him every time he was there; probably trying to vet him through as many people as possible before accepting him as an officer. It was smarter than keeping him with the same two people the whole time, since he could build up a relationship with one or two people and potentially trick them, but it would be nearly impossible if he never spent much time with the same people.
“We just merged onto the ASE,” the driver explained. “Passing AS-2 now.”
“I’ll tell them to expect you within fifte
en minutes.” The call ended.
Carl felt obligated to lean forward and say, “Academy traffic wasn’t really that bad. I was late leaving my room, which is what slowed us down.”
“I know,” the driver answered calmly, eyes focused on the road in front of him.
After a moment of silence Carl said, “Thanks for covering for me.”
The driver shrugged and said, “I get paid the same either way.” Then he smiled and added, “Besides, it’s good to make the Provo wait every now and again. I’m usually the one waiting on them.”
“Ah, I see.” Carl sat back in his seat and grinned in appreciation.
They passed another exit, AS-3. None of the exits on the expressway indicated which part of the Augenspire they went to; apparently if you were on this road, you were expected to know your way around.
AS-5 seemed to go off towards a series of garages, and he knew from experience that AS-7 veered off to the training grounds. AS-8 led to the main entrance he went through during his first ever interview there, but they passed it today. Curious now, because this was the farthest he had ever come along this road, Carl leaned forward when they took the off-ramp at AS-9 and slowed for the downward conveyor.
They cut a wide curve around the front of the Augenspire and came in on the eastern end of it, to an entrance he had never seen before. The massive black building seemed to loom larger than ever each time he was here. Since it was built centuries ago, Carl was continuously impressed with the sheer enormity of it. From this close to the base of it, Carl couldn’t even see where it ended when he craned his neck and stared upwards. It seemed to just continue endlessly into the clouds above him.
“Why are we at this entrance?” He asked the driver, wondering how helpful the man was feeling. If he had any fears about Carl for being Gifted, the man didn’t show it.
“The eastern entrance is closer to the psych wing.”
