by T. C. Edge
“I guess that’s what they call ‘mercy’,” remarks Zander, turning back to watch. “It’s lucky they got you and not me.”
“How long will they be out?” I ask, wondering just what setting the immobiliser is on.
Zander shrugs.
“It doesn’t matter. We need to go. Come on, help me with her,” he says, standing over the unconscious woman.
I walk towards him and straight past. I hear him sighing at my incessant inability to follow his orders. He probably knows exactly what I’m doing.
I move towards the truck just beyond the underpass, and find the back door unlocked. I slide across the bolt to open it up, pull the door open, and see a collection of unconscious bodies before me, all lying in a bundle of rigid limbs and torsos.
I step inside and reach for the nearest one, set my fingers to his neck, and feel for a pulse. I check another couple just to make sure. They’re alive, just knocked out, most likely temporarily paralysed by immobilisers.
Zander drifts in beside me, looking in.
“There’s nothing we can do for this lot,” he says. “We can take the woman, but no one else.”
“You can’t wake them up? What about that pen-like device you used before, when you de-paralysed Astor? Do you have that with you?”
He shakes his head.
“No.”
He probably does. He just doesn’t care about these people.
He moves back to the woman, refusing to offer any help as I briefly consider how to wake the prisoners up. My mind draws a blank, and Zander’s voice sizzles over on the breeze.
“Come on, Brie! Other Con-Cops, or worse, Stalkers, might be around,” he hisses. “For God’s sake, stop trying to help every damn person you meet!”
He’s getting frustrated, stamping about as he lifts up the woman onto his shoulder. He’s easily strong enough to manage her weight, her frame largely emaciated by her time out there living on scraps.
He starts moving off, disappearing into the mist. I have no option but to follow, sparing a final look at the pile of bodies behind me. Death or worse awaits them. And there’s nothing I can do.
Catching up with Zander, we begin moving off towards the same entry point into the underlands we used last night. Either it’s the closest one, or he’s not yet willing to let me in on another. Maybe both.
With night falling fast, the lights of Con-Cop patrols begin to rise up in the distance. I can see them down the ends of streets, and illuminating the mist above low buildings. We work our way around them, staying silent as ghosts, reaching the safety of the entranceway without detection.
Inside the cluttered room at the rear of the dilapidated building, Zander once more moves the stack of chairs and flicks the switch embedded in the wall. Meanwhile, I pull out the sofa, revealing the hidden tunnel.
As I do so, my brother bends over above the woman, pulls a familiar looking pen-like device from his jacket, and sets it to the girl’s neck. With a click of the end, her rigid form eases up and her white eyes roll back round, blinking furiously as a scream threatens to bellow from her lungs.
Zander’s hand is quick enough on the draw, pressing over it and muffling the sound.
“You had that device all along?” I query angrily. “You could have woken those people up.”
“There wasn’t time. Don’t argue.”
He turns his eyes to the woman. Hers are wide and fearful. With nothing but a look, she calms, and he releases his hand from her mouth.
He glares at me again.
“Don’t give me that look, Brie. We’re here to train you, nothing more. Saving this woman is enough. You don’t agree with my methods? I don’t care. Stop acting all high and mighty…”
“Jeez, alright Zander, chill,” I say. “I’m just saying…how hard would it have been to zap them in the neck? It would only have taken a minute or two.”
“Yeah, an extra minute or two where we might get caught. These people don’t matter. There’s only the mission.”
He doesn’t let me respond. With fresh orders in the woman’s head, she begins crawling through the tunnel. I follow behind, grumbling internally about Zander’s way of looking at things. I mean, I get it, I do, but it just seems heartless leaving people behind like that.
We don’t talk again until we reach the safety of the underlands, splitting as soon as we enter into the grand cavern. Zander goes off to make sure our new friend is processed properly. I head off to find Drum, searching selfishly to find someone to moan to.
When I locate him in his assigned area of the cave, I let off a bit of steam. I find no ally in my giant friend, though. He appears to agree with my brother.
“He’s right, Brie. You can’t save everyone.”
Of course, he has no idea about my mission. If he did, he’s perhaps realise that I can save everyone. To a degree at least.
“But they could be innocent people, just like you, Drum…”
He huffs. “I’m not innocent. Maybe lots of them deserve to go to the REFF. Who knows who you might set free? What if you freed a killer,” he says, his eyes sinking a little. “I mean…not a killer like…me. But a proper killer. Someone who likes it. Someone who kills people to take their clothes or food or money…”
The thought of Linda, Zander’s guardian, enters my mind once more. I suspect my brother’s lack of caring, and trust, of many of these Disposables emanates from that fateful day six years ago. It was a Disposable who killed her, murdered her for her purse. Perhaps Zander looks upon all of these forgotten people with the same eye.
I can’t blame him for that. Not after what he’s seen. And yet, up there, in the wild parts of the city, such a way of life is necessary for some. Perhaps not to kill, but to steal and fight to survive. It’s just the natural order of things for these people, their world far more brutal and unforgiving than mine.
I suppose, above all, this is all new to me. If I ever find someone helpless on the streets over near Brick Lane, or any of the other quarters, my natural inclination will be to help them. That’s just what being human is all about. Helping people in need.
But maybe out here it’s different. Maybe I’m not being fair to Zander, criticising him at every turn. Just looking around this place is enough to show what good the Nameless are doing, and my brother is a big part of that.
Still, I barely know him really. All I’ve gotten are snippets of his life, his personality, his past. I can’t possibly know what he’s been through over the years. How many people he’s helped and saved.
So yeah, I do need to stop acting all high and mighty. I need to realise that this is how it works here. It’s not perfect, far from it in fact, and in the end there’s only so much a single person can do.
And for me, the one thing that can help the most is the one thing I should be concentrating on. Anything beyond that, anything that might put my mission in jeopardy, is rightly considered superfluous by Zander.
Because, after all, his job is to make sure I see it through. That’s the directive Lady Orlando gave him. Like Adryan, his task is to clear the path for me, make sure that I’m ready when the time comes. To train me, open my mind, prepare me for what’s to come.
And looking at things like that, he’s doing a great job. In no time at all he’s changed me, fashioned me into a force I could never have imagined. He’s doing his job brilliantly.
And maybe it’s time I did mine.
So I go to find him, and I pull him silently into a hug. And with his tense limbs around my back, I say sorry. I tell him that I won’t question him anymore. That I’ll do as I’m ordered, and nothing else.
Because at the end of the day, it was him who saved Drum, not me. I was just there. I just supplied the most basic of information about what had happened to him.
From that point on, he located him inside the holding cells. He tracked the trucks. He took out the Con-Cops and freed my friend, and the rest of them too.
That was my input, to force him to let the rest go
. Something that almost got us all caught or killed. My participation nearly brought the entire house of cards crashing down. Without my brother, Drum would be dead or worse.
And most likely, I would be too.
I struck a bargain that night. I told him I’d do whatever he wanted. I told him I’d kill whoever he told me to kill. Take a life to save a life. I’d do it all if my friend was saved.
He’s held up to his side of the bargain, and more. And me…I’m still here, questioning him, undermining him, prodding and probing when I should be listening to every single word, every single order, that flows off his tongue.
And so I will. From now on, I’ll put my mind to the mission and nothing else.
I’ll pay my debt to him.
I promise I will.
70
I spend the evening being assaulted.
Assaulted by Zander, by his mental intrusions, by his relentless attempts to creep into my mind and read my thoughts and memories. For hours and hours, he works on me in a quiet little chamber away from the rest, the two of us sitting in darkness and silence.
I defend myself with everything I have, using everything I’ve learned. Using all the training Zander has put me through to shield my cognition from him, his attacks becoming increasingly direct as the evening grows late and my mind and body grow weary.
He puts me under stress and duress, making me tired, forcing me to continually focus to weaken me. As he does, his ability to infiltrate my memories and thoughts grows stronger, old memories of mine being mined from somewhere deep inside my consciousness.
Memories I barely recall are brought to the surface, dug up and shown to my eyes. He works to read my thoughts as they occur, telling me each time exactly what I’m thinking.
Yet it’s under stress that I begin to fight back too, to strengthen myself, to grit my teeth and block him from holding dominion in my head. Like when I battled him away earlier outside the underpass, I do so again that night, again and again, becoming more adept as the minutes and hours pass.
He teaches me other things. Not only am I tutored on how to shield my thoughts, but to hide my memories too. He tasks me with pushing the memory of that day, of all my activities, to the depths of my mind. To cloud them and cover them in other thoughts of the academy, of my home, of Adryan, of anything that my normal life still contains.
Anything that needs to be hidden has to be continually shrouded. Anything involving him, anything involving my powers, or my mission, or my knowledge of the Nameless and the Fanatics and the Consortium. Any memories or thoughts that might prove indicting have to be protected behind a barrier in my head, replaced by regular thoughts and memories that aren’t so incriminating.
I work to muddy the events of the day, to hide them deep. Then Zander enters my mind again and probes, looking on the surface for them. He searches deeper, and eventually discovers the truth, but only after some thorough exploration.
“Good,” he tells me. “Very good. Now this time, when I try to find the memories, actively try to block me.”
I nod and soak up the order. I open my eyes wide and he does too, and together we enter into the battleground of my consciousness.
This time, each time I sense him creeping deeper, searching for the hidden memories, I try to block his course. To waylay him with different memories. To prevent him or slow him from discovering the truth.
Much of it is his training, but a lot is instinct. My ability to shield him has been inside me this whole time, waiting to blossom, to turn me into the person I was always meant to be.
He withdraws again, and a smile of approval lifts his cheeks.
“That’s enough for now,” he says. “You have the basics, and you’re quickly mastering them. Lady Orlando will be delighted. I need to report back to her.”
I find the good feeling inside me receding a little at the name. I’m not doing this for Lady Orlando. Frankly, her insistence on not seeing me is actually a little insulting. Since our first meeting, when she set me on this path, I’ve had no direct contact with her. She should realise that I’d feel a little more valued if she gave me some personal time.
Having said that, if Zander were to say to me right now: “Brie, Lady Orlando would love to debrief you,” I’d probably find the idea rather unappealing.
So, yeah, I don’t actually want to see her, but I’d like it if she invited me for a chat. I guess I’m just a little confused…
Having confiscated my watch prior to our session, Zander hands it back to me before he departs. It’s nearly 4 in the morning, the dawn not too far away. As my brother disappears off to the north, I find myself curling up in an exhausted ball of freezing flesh in the same spot I spent the previous night.
Despite the cold, I soon drift off, my head praying for the respite of sleep. With trembling bones I disappear into my dreams, waking to the brighter light of the campfires dotted around these communal caverns, and with my body having been warmed by their glow.
It takes a little while for my eyes to crack fully open, and for my mind to fully wake. Then Zander appears before me once more, his face paler than usual, the sight of dark shadows lurking beneath his eyes.
It doesn’t look like he’s slept.
“Morning, Brie,” he says. “It’s time for you to go.”
I arch my back up against the wall, dragging off the loose rags that acted as my blanket for the night.
“Why? What’s going on?” I yawn.
“You’ve spent enough time here. Lady Orlando has been in contact with Adryan. You need to see him again tonight.”
My body wakes a little more at the thought. I blink hard and yawn again, covering my mouth.
“Tonight,” I say, nodding. “Um, right, OK. I need to get some new shoes…”
“Shoes?” he asks.
“Yeah, long story. What time is it,” I ask, searching the rock floor for my watch. I have the habit of taking it off when I sleep.
“It’s nearing 8. It should be safe enough for you to travel back to the academy now.”
Four hours sleep. I feel like I’ve had about four minutes…
“OK, sure. So, when will I come back here?”
“That depends. This will be your third date with Adryan. He’s informed us that he should be able to arrange for you to be tested and approved after that. I’m no expert, obviously, but as far as I know things can go quite fast from there. Regarding…your marriage.”
My marriage. It still sounds kinda ridiculous to me. Although not quite as scary as it once did…
I nod.
“Good. That’s good. The sooner we get hitched, the sooner I can get my mission done, right?”
I inject my words with some optimism, and brighten my eyes too. Zander attempts to imitate my smile but fails. Apparently he’s too tired to pretend.
“Right,” is all he says. “If you wanna go and say goodbye to Drum, he’s over in the main chamber. I’ll take you back to the surface after.”
I rise on aching legs, and do as my brother suggested. The main chamber is already lively, fires blazing and people eating breakfast. I find Drum in his assigned spot, munching on a meagre amount of dried meat and bread leftover from the previous night’s dinner.
He appears in good spirits, even when I tell him I’m leaving. I think having me down here for a couple of nights has helped him relax a little, his determination to join up with the Nameless and become a soldier turning his mind to more positive things.
I still don’t like the idea, but it’s not for me to dissuade him. Seeing him with an upbeat disposition is so rare, and certainly better than the alternative. If joining the Nameless is what he needs to do to put his demons to rest, then who am I to stop him?
Instead, I leave him with a nod of consent and support, and promise that I’ll see him soon.
“Say hi to Mrs Carmichael for me,” he says. “And Tess as well...”
He says it without thinking, without realising that, other than me, no one can know where he
is. Such a thing would only put them in danger. I decide, right there and then, not even to inform Mrs Carmichael of our reunion.
Of course, I don’t tell him that. All I say is: “Sure Drum, I’ll tell them,” before hugging him as best I can and leaving him there among the rest of the refugees.
I travel back up to the surface with Zander, covering the same ground that I’ve passed over several times now over the last few days and nights. Up on the streets of the northern quarter, a mist remains, still clinging to the air as we work our way south towards more populous parts of the city.
Once we’ve arrived at the inner districts of the northern quarter, Zander feels confident to leave me. He turns me to face him and departs with a few final words, designed to both keep my spirits high and my mind focused.
“Your abilities are building fast, Brie,” he says. “Keep practicing on anyone you can trust, but always be mindful of your surroundings. Be careful. Be vigilant at all times. Things will be moving very quickly for you now, and the deeper you go into the world of Inner Haven, the more difficult it will be for us to see each other.”
“Why? Can’t I come across to Outer Haven once I’m married to Adryan?”
I don’t like the thought. Without Zander’s training and guidance, as well as the support of Mrs Carmichael, I’ll be lost out there.
“It’s not as easy as just crossing back and forward through the gate. You’ll be under greater scrutiny once you join the ranks of Inner Haven. They’ll want to know you’re committed, and you’re settling in well. Returning to Outer Haven won’t help that.”
“So…when will I see you again?” I ask, a surge of concern passing through me that I may not see him for a while.
“Soon, dear sister,” he says, smiling comfortingly. He taps me on the temple. “But remember, I’m always here. We can always talk, no matter what.”
The thought gives me some relief. And now, with my mental capabilities developing so fast, I suspect our telepathic conversations will be clearer and more elaborate.
With a kiss to the forehead, he leaves me, disappearing again into the fog. I watch him for a moment, staring northwards towards the deserted streets, where the secret war continues to brew. Where the Nameless operate in the shadows, constantly fighting for the people’s rights, even if they don’t know it.
