JANET EDWARDS
BORDERLINE
Hive Mind 4
Copyright
Copyright © Janet Edwards 2019
https://www.janetedwards.com/
Janet Edwards asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events or localities is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of Janet Edwards except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Design by The Cover Collection
Cover Design © Janet Edwards 2019
Table of Contents
Copyright
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three
Chapter Forty-four
Chapter Forty-five
Chapter Forty-six
Chapter Forty-seven
Chapter Forty-eight
Message from Janet Edwards
Books by Janet Edwards
About the Author
Preview of Scavenger Alliance
Chapter One
Our Hive city was busy with New Year festival preparations when the problems with Blue Upway started. I was in my unit park, sitting on a bench under a maple tree, when the warbling of an alarm sounded from overhead.
“Unit emergency alert,” said a calm, computerized voice. “Unit emergency alert. We have an incident in progress. Operational teams to stations. Strike team to lift 2.”
Rather than run along the winding path to the nearest park exit, I took the shorter route that involved sprinting across the grass, jumping a stream, and zigzagging between a scattering of dwarf oak trees and the structural pillars that held up the park ceiling.
The standard computerized announcement was followed by the voice of my Strike team leader, Adika. “Alpha team, you have the strike.”
The alarm began warbling again, the urgent sound making me conscious that I was tired and running slower than usual. Everyone else in my unit must be exhausted too. We’d just spent an intensely stressful week dealing with a case at the Hive’s sea farm that had pushed us to our limits. We desperately needed to rest for a few days before we went out on a new emergency run.
We couldn’t indulge ourselves with long rest breaks between cases though. Not when there should ideally be at least eight Telepath Units protecting the hundred million people living in our many levelled underground Hive city, but there were only five. Not when the situation would soon get even worse.
We only had seven weeks left before Morton’s Telepath Unit would shut down to allow him to have lifesaving surgery. After that, there’d only be four operational Telepath Units to maintain order during the months it would take him to make a full recovery.
I thrust that nagging worry out of my head as I reached the park exit, and concentrated on sprinting as fast as possible through the corridors of my unit, heading for my apartment. Other people were running down the corridors too, but they all leapt aside when they saw me coming, pressing themselves against the walls to let their precious telepath through without delay.
When I arrived at my apartment door, I saw the spectacular figure of my counsellor, Buzz, waiting for me, her face almost as dark as her wildly curling hair, and her lipstick matching the dress in her favourite red. She gave me one of her typically generous smiles and waved madly.
“Go and save the Hive, Amber!”
I waved back, tumbled through the door of my apartment, and looked around hopefully for Lucas. He was both my Tactical Commander and my partner. We always tried to share a swift hug and kiss before I headed out on an emergency run, but there was no sign of him this time.
I thrust my disappointment aside, dashed into the bedroom, stripped off my clothes, and turned to grab the body armour that was hanging next to the sleep field. Once I’d put on the lightweight mesh, I pulled my clothes back on over the top, then snatched my crystal unit from its place on my equipment shelf.
When I put the crystal into my ear and switched it on, I heard Lucas talking in the deliberately reassuring and relaxed tones of his official Tactical Commander voice.
“I’m currently both in charge of the emergency run and completing a critically important Joint Tactical Meeting conference call. My apologies if I speak on the wrong comms at any point.”
That explained why Lucas wasn’t here. He’d already been in the Tactical office, taking part in the conference call with the Tactical Commanders of the other Telepath Units, when the emergency call came in. He couldn’t abandon that to come charging over to kiss me goodbye.
I sighed, collected my gun and wristset light from the shelf, checked my dataview was in my pocket, and ran out of my apartment again.
When I arrived at the bank of express lifts, panting for breath, Adika and the crowd of other men standing inside lift 2 all took a step back to give me space to join them. Adika instantly closed the lift doors behind me and started the lift moving downwards.
My Telepath Unit was right at the top of the Hive on Industry 1. The rate the lift was accelerating told me that our destination wasn’t on any of the fifty industrial levels. We were carrying on down to one of the hundred accommodation levels of the Hive.
I became aware of an odd atmosphere in the lift. The Strike team were always tense when we set out on an emergency run, bracing themselves ready to face an unknown situation where lives could be at stake. There was something strange about the tension this time though, and I noticed Adika’s dark face held an expression of rigid disapproval.
I was about to read Adika’s mind to find out what was going on, when he spoke in tones acid enough to etch his words on the side of a structural pillar. “Would Tobias care to explain why he isn’t in the lift with us?”
That explained the strange tension. All of my Strike team members except Adika had come out of the 2532 Lottery with me nearly nine months ago. This was the first time that any of them had committed the deadly sin of failing to reach the lift ahead of the telepath.
“I’ll be with you in thirty seconds,” gasped Tobias’s voice on the crystal comms.
I pictured Tobias’s face when he discovered we’d gone without him, and felt a pang of guilt that I’d reached the lift so quickly. Then I remembered I’d been in our unit park when the alarm sounded, and had to run all the way to my apartment to get my equipment.
This situation didn’t make any sense at all. The Strike team always carried their equipment with them, so Tobias should have reached the lift well before me.
“I was nearly at the lift when I realized I’d left my gun at the shooting range,” added Tobias.
Rothan, Adika’s deputy in charge of the Alpha Strike team, was standing next to me. He groaned and buried his face in his hands, so only his light brown hair was visible. The rest of the Alpha team members just shuddered and stood in absolute silence, afraid that even breathing would bring Adika’s wrath down on them. For a Strike team member, the only sin worse than reaching the lift after the telepath was to forget your gun.
“I assumed the reason for your absence was something at least marginally forgivable like being dead, but no.” Adika moved from ordinary sarcasm to saying each word singly in withering disgust. “You. Forgot. Your. Gun.”
“Yes, but I’ve been back to get it, and I’m literally two seconds from the lift now so …” Tobias let his sentence trail off. “Oh, you’ve already gone.”
“Yes, we left as soon as Amber arrived at the lift,” said Adika, in a dangerously friendly voice. “Please explain a mystery to me, Tobias. When you went through Lottery testing and were selected as a Strike team candidate, did some dreadful error make you miss the imprinting stage?”
“Uh, no,” said Tobias’s voice.
“Did the Strike team candidate information imprinted on your brain somehow miss out the fact that you’re expected to arrive in the lift ahead of the telepath?”
“No,” muttered Tobias.
“Did it fail to mention that you should keep your crystal unit, gun, and body armour with you at all times?”
“No, but it wasn’t my fault that I forgot my gun,” said Tobias. “Rothan had sent me to the shooting range to …”
Adika made a contemptuous noise. “Tobias, you’ve a bad habit of blaming other people for your mistakes, and you’ve been performing below the standard of the rest of the Alpha team for months. When this run is over, we’ll discuss you moving to the Beta team.”
“Moving to the Beta team,” repeated Tobias. “You can’t move me to the …”
Lucas’s voice interrupted him. “We need to focus on the emergency run now. Liaison, please block Tobias from speaking on the crystal comms so we can start the checklist.”
“Tobias has been blocked from speaking on the comms,” responded the voice of Nicole, my Liaison team leader.
“Alpha Strike team, with the obvious exception of Tobias, is moving,” said Adika bitterly.
“Tactical team ready,” said Lucas.
“Liaison team ready,” said Nicole. “Tracking status green for all Strike team present on the emergency run.”
I’d already taken my dataview from my pocket and tapped it to make it unfurl. The screen was correctly showing the glowing dots of the Strike team, all crowded tightly around me in the lift, so I hit the circuit button.
The display changed to show the team assignments for this run. The five men on the left were assigned to be my bodyguards. My priority would be checking the safety of the men listed on the right, who had the more hazardous duty of chasing down targets.
I rapidly skimmed through the names on chase duty. There would normally have been sixteen of them, including both Adika and Rothan, but today there were only fourteen. Zak was still recovering from a recent injury, and we’d just left Tobias behind.
“We are green,” I said.
The lift was braking to a halt now. As soon as it stopped, the doors opened and Adika led the way out. The dedicated lifts of our unit were close to major belt interchanges on each level of the Hive, so it was only a minute or two before we were travelling along an express belt. The men on chase duty stood in twos and threes between groups of ordinary travellers, while my bodyguards and Adika clustered protectively around me. An overhead sign told me that we were on Level 1, the highest accommodation level of our Hive, and heading north.
“The Joint Tactical Meeting conference call has now finished, so you have my full attention,” said Lucas.
“It’s nice that we finally have our Tactical Commander’s full attention,” said Adika disapprovingly.
Lucas sighed. “When I said the Joint Tactical Meeting conference call was critically important, I meant exactly that. Amber, I’m afraid we’ll need to hold a team leader meeting immediately after the run to discuss some new developments.”
I wrinkled my nose. Telepath Units had a mandatory twenty-four hour recovery period after emergency runs. While other people sometimes did essential work in that time, Lucas was always adamant that I should rest as much as possible, quoting grim statistics on how overworking a telepath led to soaring casualty rates among the Strike team. If he wanted me to join in a team leader meeting immediately after this run, then something serious must have happened.
My instinct was to link to Lucas’s mind and find out what was wrong, but he was fifty levels above me on Industry 1. There would be tens of thousands of other minds between us, so reaching him was impossible. Lucas was briefing us on the emergency run now, so I forced myself to concentrate on his words.
“We’ve had a call reporting blood dripping from an air vent in a Level 1 corridor ceiling. A maintenance worker could have suffered an accidental injury while in the vent system or crawl ways, but this area was already flagged for a check run because of recent non-specific warning signs.”
I frowned at the unfamiliar phrase. Our Hive didn’t risk damaging the unique abilities of telepaths by imprinting information on their minds, so I had to learn everything for myself. Even after months of emergency and check runs, I was constantly hitting things that I didn’t understand.
“What do you mean by non-specific warning signs?” I asked.
“I mean that there’ve been reports of something wrong in our destination area,” said Lucas. “People can’t explain precisely what’s worrying them though.”
“They’re just complaining for no reason at all,” grumbled Adika, obviously still in a bad temper over Tobias missing the lift.
“They may be complaining for no reason at all,” said Lucas calmly, “but they could be subconsciously observing signs of a problem. One example might be a neighbour’s behaviour or speech patterns subtly changing as they progress along the path to becoming violent.”
I nodded. Virtually all of the hundred million people in our Hive city were what I thought of as tame bees working contentedly for the benefit of everyone, but there were a few who had the potential to turn into a dangerous wild bee. I could see how people might pick up signals that worried them.
“Non-specific warning signs are especially significant when they come from such a high level of the Hive,” continued Lucas. “The people living on Level 1 aren’t just the most vital to the Hive, but include a high proportion of intelligent and reliable witnesses. They’ll think carefully before making reports to Health and Safety.”
He paused. “We’re therefore assuming the blood is the result of an attack rather than an accidental injury, and Liaison is evacuating the area. We expect you’ll be dealing with a single target. This person has been gradually escalating their behaviour for some time, and has suddenly been triggered into violence.”
“I assume we’re expecting this target to be armed with a knife,” said Adika.
Lucas usually kept his voice calm and relaxed during emergency runs, to build our confidence in our ability to handle whatever crisis we were facing, but now he allowed it to take on a harsh edge.
“Yes. This target has already seriously injured at least one person and will attack anyone else who approaches them. You should attempt to shoot the target on stun, but be prepared to use deadly force if nec
essary to save other lives.”
I wasn’t actively using my telepathy, but I still felt a shift in the mood of the Strike team as they responded to the warning grimness in Lucas’s voice. Tobias was forgotten now as they concentrated on the challenge ahead of them.
A distant rhythmic chanting sound caught my attention, and Adika groaned. “Lucas, there’s a nosy squad at the next belt interchange. You’ll have to wait until we’ve gone past them before finishing your briefing.”
I could see the five figures of the nosy squad ahead of us now. Four guards in the blue uniforms of Health and Safety, and the nosy in its grey costume and mask.
I’d assumed the chanting was coming from a crowd at the belt interchange, but it wasn’t. A major interchange should be busy with people changing between express belts, but the nosy squad must have been standing there for several minutes because the place was almost deserted. Most travellers would choose to stay on their existing belt and make a lengthy diversion, rather than go too close to what they believed was a telepath checking minds for criminal thoughts. Only those completely uncaring of their mental privacy were still stubbornly walking past the nosy patrol.
The chanting was actually coming from people riding on our express belt, all reciting tables to try to block the nosy from reading their minds. As we neared the nosy patrol, the groups of travellers scattered among my Strike team members started reciting tables too.
“Two fives are ten.”
“Two sixes are twelve.”
All through my childhood, I’d believed the grey-clad nosies were genuine telepaths. I’d been taught in school that we should be grateful to have them keeping the Hive a perfectly safe place, but my whole family had loathed and feared the creepy things, with their all-enveloping grey robes, and inhumanly shaped whole-head masks.
When I came out of Lottery as a telepath, I learned the truth. The nosies were just ordinary hasties like their guards, dressed up in deliberately intimidating costumes, and patrolling the Hive to deter people from even thinking of committing crimes.
Borderline (Hive Mind Book 4) Page 1