by T. C. Edge
I look up towards him, narrowing my glare. "She was here?" I growl, pretending I don't know. "Kira's meant to be in Neorome."
"It would appear she came to fight for her homeland. An admirable trait, for sure." He smiles to himself. "Perhaps I should have tried to take her too. Give you a little bit of extra company on the road. I can just imagine the reception you'd get in Olympus. The two girls who defeated Nestor, now captured and brought before the Prime. What a missed opportunity," he hums, shaking his head. "Who knows. Perhaps I'll get another chance soon."
"You'd never take her," I growl, staring at him with glowing hazel eyes. "She's quicker with a knife than you are with your thoughts."
He laughs, running a hand through his grey hair. "Oh, very good," he says. "Perhaps you're right. But really, I have no great desire to take young Kira as a captive. You are the true prize, Brie."
I glance again at the soldiers, standing behind the Overseer. He steps back and gestures for them to open the door to my cell. One of them does so, pulling a bunch of keys from his belt. They're not the same soldiers, I notice, who were here on guard when I came to free Rhoth and the Fangs with Marcus. Such failure, I suppose, cannot be tolerated. Or perhaps they're dead. Could be either.
As the solidly built soldier opens the gate, and I see the Overseer turning, briefly, to look at my grandfather in the opposite cell, I take my opportunity. Shutting my eyes, I focus my attention and flash quickly into the cerebral realm. With my powers semi-muted, I find the space opening out before me blurred and indistinct. It takes a second for the brainwaves of the men around me to come into view. When they do, I quickly discover that I'll never get through to them.
I open my eyes back up and look at the Overseer. His eyes are back on me, grinning.
"Powers starting to warm back up again, are they Brie?" he asks, enjoying himself.
I grit my teeth and turn my gaze down.
"You'd be wasting your time anyway," he goes on. "I think you'd find these two gentlemen here to be highly resistant to your telepathic charms. Someone as powerful as you might get in, given the time, but it would take a while. You'll learn, in time, that some people are more immune to your tricks than others..."
"I know," I growl, raising my eyes to him.
"Of course you do," he says. "The girl who vanquished a Herald of Awakening must know a thing or two, I suppose. A remarkable feat for one so young. Nestor was an especially gifted telepath himself. I am truly excited by the prospect of what you can achieve."
"You sure about that?" I say, staring right at him. "Aren't you worried about what I might do to you if I ever get the chance?"
"Me?" he says, placing a hand to his chest in dramatic fashion. "Oh no, Brie. I think you'll find me quite charming once you get to know me. I'm not the villain you think I am. I have a kind heart in here, I assure you."
"Kindness is subjective," I grumble, huffing out the words. "It would be a kindness to put you down as far as I see it."
"Oh, now, how could you say that to me? We hardly know each other. And here was me thinking we got on just fine when we met on the plains the other day."
"That was slightly different, Overseer," I say. "I wasn't your captive then, was I?"
"And you won't be my captive for long here either," he says warmly. "I know it feels like that now, but it won't last forever. You'll soon realise that this was always where you were meant to be. That this was always your path. One day, you'll thank me."
"You really believe that?" I ask, trying to work the man out.
"Oh, certainly," he says. "We've seen it happen over and over again. There is a natural resistance at first, but soon enough they all see that Olympus is the heart of this world, the true light in the darkness..."
"Did Amber see that light?" I cut in. "Did she warm to you after what you put her through?"
"Put her through?" the man says, a frown falling over his eyes. "You clearly misunderstand, child. Amber is a lovely girl, and I care for her safety. She has only ever been treated well by us, and joined our cause willingly."
"Willingly? That's what you tell yourself. Nothing to do with you manipulating her then? Nothing to do with the Prime?"
"It has everything to do with the Prime," the Overseer responds. "When you meet them, you will see. You will wish to serve them, as we all do."
He takes a step to one side, nodding for the guards to approach. They squeeze in through the door to the cell, filling the small space within with their hulking, intimidating presence.
"We're not going to have a problem with you, are we Brie?" asks the Overseer, standing to the rear. One of the soldiers holds out his hand, opening his palm to reveal two small pills. I was only given one before. I suppose they've realised I need a higher dosage. "You will take these when given to you without complaint. If you don't, these men will use force. That isn't what you want, is it?"
I look up at the men. Their size suggests that they're half-Brutes, often the grimmest and gruffest of all. It's as though they have all that raging testosterone of a full-sized Brute, only squeezed into a smaller - though still very large - frame. The likes of Ares and Perses, two of the most solidly built, physically imposing men I've ever seen, are of that sort. All wide, brick-like chins and deep, resounding voices.
I see no reason, as I look at them, to cause a fuss.
"Just give them here," I say, opening my mouth. "Let's get this over with."
The soldier stamps forward and pops the pills inside. He glares down at me with fierce eyes as I swallow, then open my mouth up wide again to show him I completed the job. He turns back and nods at the Overseer, before both soldiers step out of the cell, lock it back up, and move back towards the door.
The Overseer stays behind, nodding passively. "You're wise enough to know that there's no use in causing problems," he says. "That's a good start. We've upped the dose. You'll be fed these every four hours. They'll keep your...proclivities at bay."
"Nice to know I'm that much of a threat to you," I grumble. "All these mighty Olympians, frightened of little old me."
"We'd be foolish not to take the necessary precautions," smiles the Overseer. "You escaped Nestor's snare, so we have some idea of your capabilities, and I'm quite sure you've only improved since then."
"And is this a precaution too?" I ask, shaking my wrists and rattling my chains. "Do I have to be chained up like this?" I soften my voice and set a light grimace to my face. "Isn't the cell enough."
He smiles gently as he looks at me, then begins to nod. "Yes, you're right," he says. "The cell should be plenty on its own. I do apologise, Brie. My men can be barbaric sometimes. It's common practice to chain prisoners up like this, especially when they're first brought in."
He turns to one of the soldiers again and nods. The man stamps back over from the doorway, opens the cell, steps inside, and hastily unshackles my wrists from the chains on the wall. I drop down immediately, falling to my side, not quite sure whether to rub my wrists or knees first. The relief is immediate, even after only two hours.
"Better?" asks the Overseer.
I nod, selecting my wrists for immediate attention, rubbing at the light red marks inflicted by the shackles. "Thank you."
"Not at all. You won't be here forever, Brie, don't worry. This cell isn't a place for someone like you."
"And...him?" I ask, turning to my grandfather. "He is...OK, isn't he?"
"Artemis is fine," he tells me. "Perhaps, now, you'll have time to bond with him further." He smiles. "Family is so important, child. The most important thing in the world."
With those words, he slips away, moving back into the light as his colourful robes fade into the brightness. And moments later, the door is shutting once again, blocking off the dazzling glow, and dousing the cells into a dank, morbid gloom.
5
Kira
I take a sharp breath as I move through the vast internal spaces of the Oasis, the numerous chambers and tunnels thick with people and a hustling, bustlin
g activity.
I've been here a few times now, visiting the underground bunker while it was under construction. It's quite remarkable how much it has changed during the last few months, and though much of it remains incomplete, certain chambers have been transformed into fully functioning living areas.
The Oasis, essentially, is designed in a similar fashion to Inner Haven itself, complete with an inner 'core' of a central chamber, from which all the others are accessible by a series of corridors, elevators, and tunnels. Such is its size that it extends roughly six floors deep from floor to ceiling, the Oasis itself built upon a natural series of caves and caverns discovered down here in the depths, much like the underlands.
Beside me, Secretary Burns walks, one of the few people here with the access codes to enter the Oasis from above. We've just come from the City Guard HQ, where Ares and I swiftly updated the council on what we saw. Max, apparently, was quick to deliver Colonel Hatcher to the infirmary there. Apparently, it's too early to diagnose the extent of his injuries. He'll live, we're told, but may never walk again.
"Are you sure you want to deliver the news?" Burns asks me, as we pace down one of the corridors away from the core. "You really don't have to, Kira. I'll happily see to it myself."
I shake my head. "No, it's OK, Secretary Burns," I say. "I'd like to see them anyway. I want to make it clear that we're going to do everything we can to get Brie back."
"Of course. When the time is right," he says.
I nod as we move on, thinking again of that odd experience outside of the Olympian camp. That strange connection I felt with Brie. The presence of Zander in my head. "There's something more," I say, slowing a little. I turn to the Savant, who eyes me curiously.
"Yes, Kira?" he says. "What is it?"
"It's...it's probably nothing," I say. "My mind playing tricks on me, or something. But...but I thought I saw Zander in my head out there. I heard Brie's voice, and Zander's too. It's hard to explain, Leyton. I thought, maybe, you'd have some thoughts on it."
He ponders things a second, eyes pensive, fingers stroking gently at his chin. "You didn't mention this in the meeting?" he says.
I shake my head. "I thought it would be better contained for now. I wanted to speak with you first."
"Of course," he says, still holding that pensive frame to his eyes. "It sounds like you're saying that Brie brought Zander into your mind somehow. This would give some credence to her experience with him over the last year."
"So, you believe me?" I ask, slightly surprised seeing as, well, I'm hardly believing it myself.
"I do," he says. "Quite what it means, I'm not sure, but I see no reason to doubt your experience. It is surprising, though, that Brie was capable of communicating with you, and entering your mind, from within the Olympian camp. I'd have thought she'd have had her powers suppressed by now."
"It's early," I say. "Perhaps they hadn't got around to it yet."
"Not something you wait on, Kira, when dealing with a powerful telepath." He shakes his head, as if mildly troubled by it, though unable to work it out. "Either way, thank you for telling me. I will speak of this with the President."
We continue on at that, moving down the corridor towards another section of this sprawling, labyrinthine bunker. I suspect there's little reason to speak on the topic further right now. If Burns doesn't have any further insight, then no one else will.
After another minute or so, we divert towards a door, opening into a separate, mostly complete, chamber. It's larger, as with many others, the interior stretching over several floors, and partitioned off into various sections intended as living quarters for some of the residents of the city above.
"I believe they're here," Burns says, looking around as we enter. Ahead of us, several security guards stand, junior members of the City Guard down here to keep order. With them is a official, monitoring the comings and goings in and out of this particular living space.
We move over to the woman, as my eyes scan ahead. With a smile, I notice that one of the guards on duty is Brie's adopted brother, Drum, now assimilated into the City Guard academy. I don't know him well, but have spent some time with him during my visits from Neorome. He is, though not the main person I've come to see, still someone who deserves to hear of Brie's capture from my own lips.
As Burns steps towards the official to discover the whereabouts of my primary target, I move towards Drum, drawing his substantial face with a pleasant expression. In the intervening months since I saw him last, he appears to have grown. Certainly, he's continuing to lose that coating of puppy fat as he transitions into manhood. He might just be a handsome man once all is said and done.
"All right, Drum?" I say, slipping towards him.
He shuffles towards me and away from the other recruits, who look upon me with a note of awe. My story is well known. And dressed as I am in my combat robes and armour, and still partially stained with blood from the battle, I must be quite the sight.
"Hey, Kira," Drum says, his voice a little nervous as he looks at my relatively grim facade. "When did you...get back from Neorome?"
"A few hours ago," I tell him, looking up. "How are things down here?"
"Fine. Quiet." His eyes turn upwards. "I hear we won up there. That's the rumour."
"Won is a relative term," I say. "We killed more than they did, but they still have the bigger numbers. Not sure what to make of that just yet."
He nods, glancing over to Secretary Burns. A frown falls over his eyes and he leans in a little. "I, er, also heard that Brie is..." He stops, then nods. "That's why you're here, isn't it? You're here to tell Mrs Carmichael that Brie's been taken."
"How do you know that?" I ask, narrowing my gaze.
"Soldiers," he says, shrugging. "They speak. So, it's true, then?" His voice tumbles off a cliff, losing what energy it has.
"Temporarily," I say. "She won't be with them long, Drum, don't worry. We're going to get her back."
"We?" he asks. "Is, um....is Ares going to help?" I see his eyes widen, the wonder so clear within them. The greatest of all Neoroman warriors has become a man of legend here now. Word of his exploits, his wondrous feats, have spread far and wide among the people, excitedly discussed among the city's younger population, in particular. And among the younger recruits of the City Guard, he has become a particular figure to admire.
"He will," I confirm, smiling up at the gigantic teenager. "You see, there's nothing to worry about, Drum. And we've got a few prisoners of our own. If we can, we'll work something out without resorting to violence. It doesn't always have to be the case, even between enemies."
My words clearly help, owing to the look on his face. He nods and, as Secretary Burns moves over, quickly dips his head in a goodbye, and steps away.
"Still a shy one," Burns says to me, glancing at Drum as he bustles off to his fellow recruits.
"He's better than he was," I say, watching him go. "According to Brie, he was meek as anything when he grew up in the orphanage. The soldier's life has given him some strength, but you can't blame him for being a little cowed by the Secretary of Defence."
"And I portray a figure to intimidate, do I Kira?" Burns asks.
"Power intimidates," I say. "Always has and always will."
"I suppose so, whether that is the intention or not. Anyway," he says, turning his eyes towards a set of metal stair ahead, "Mrs Carmichael is this way. Come along now."
We continue forwards as I glance again at Drum, giving him a further smile as I depart. I sense his young companions sniggering in delight, whispering among one another as they nudge Drum in the arm, eager to hear more about how he knows me. I've grown used to that sort of reaction around here. It's strange, really, having grown up anonymous, intentionally living my life as a ghost and assassin. To be famous all of a sudden, both here in my old home, and in my new one across the ocean, is quite a stark change for me.
We move up the metal stair, clanking as we go, and head along a gallery that stretches arou
nd the perimeter of the large cavern. To the side, excavated into the rock walls, are further living quarters, all busily accommodated. They look to me to be storage areas, in truth, simply outfitted for the housing of our people while other areas of the Oasis lie unfinished. Every spare inch of space has an old mattress sprawled across it, nothing going to waste with real estate at such a premium.
After a short walk, we come to another set of stairs that leads back down to the main floor at the rear of the cavern. Descending, we enter into one of the sections partitioned off from the others. It's a simple, functional place, with a large area set up with multiple bunk beds lined up in a grid-like pattern. Burns leads me towards an opening that leads into a smaller, private area. Inside, I find another couple of sets of bunk beds, as well as a couple of desks at the far end.
And behind one of those desks, I see the old face of the woman I've come to visit. Mrs Carmichael, Brie's old guardian, sits with a cigarette dangling from her lips, a pen in her hand, and a pair of horn-rimmed glasses perched at the end of her nose. She's in deep enough thought to not notice us immediately as we enter and walk towards her.
"Mrs Carmichael," says Secretary Burns brightly. "How are things going down here?"
Her eyes move up with speed, started by our sudden arrival. With some deft skill, however, she keeps the end of that cigarette just about clinging to her lips.
"Secretary Burns," she says, coughing the words out. Her spare, non pen-wielding hand, quickly assumes possession of the cigarette, plunging it into an ash tray. "What a pleasant surprise." Her eyes find me, and widen. "Kira..." A smile works onto her lips. "When...when did you get back?"
"This morning," I say, smiling fondly at the old woman. Like with Drum, I don't know her too well, though have found that she isn't the sort of woman you need to spend much time with to feel an affinity towards. She has a kindly, though sometimes strict, way about her that comes from raising kids all her life. A woman of great compassion and caring who, I feel, has earned the right to be informed of Brie's capture firsthand.
