by Jay Aspen
‘Thank you,’ Fin whispered softly to the snake, releasing its jaws from Jac’s hand with skilful fingers before setting it down to slip back into the shadows. Almost in the same movement she pricked her finger and put a drop of blood on each of Jac’s burning puncture wounds.
Jac looked up hopefully. The venom had a vicious sting to it. ‘Does that work as antidote?’
‘Catalyst. Vaccine. Just enough to guide your own immune system to neutralize the poison more quickly than it would on its own. You told me before that your grandfather taught you to work with psychoneuroimmunology techniques. This takes it a bit further. Don’t try to ask questions. Focus on what’s happening.’
Jac found it difficult to obey this time, her mind recoiling from the sickly pain, unwilling to engage with it. She desperately wanted to focus elsewhere until it was all over but the presence of Fin’s willpower in her consciousness was compelling as an armlock.
It’s making it worse!
Keep going.
Jac no longer questioned leaving behind the need for words and let herself fall into the poisoned darkness, the clash of chemistry stinging in her veins.
And then it was over. Somehow she’d crossed the tipping point and the chain reaction spread through her body like cool water. Fin was supporting her, preventing her falling off the tree trunk, steady and reassuring.
‘Body-learning. Can you remember how it feels?’
‘I––I think so.’ Jac absently wiped beads of sweat from her face as she paused for a few moments to go over the microscopic sensations of the catalyst change before they faded. ‘But what’s it for? If they catch up with us tomorrow they’re going to be shooting at us, not injecting us with snake venom!’
Fin finally allowed herself a smile and Jac started to relax, sensing or maybe just hoping the painful part was over, at least for now. Fin checked she was steady enough to stay on her perch without collapsing before releasing her shoulders.
‘You just fast-tracked the way priestesses in some ancient cultures accustomed themselves to increasing doses until they were immune. They used it to see visions of the future.’
‘Is that what I’m supposed to do with it?’
‘No. Unreliable hallucinations aren’t much use to us. It’s the process of transmuting that develops your focus and control for other purposes. And it makes it easier to deal with each new poison.’
‘Oh great. You mean I’ve more like that to look forward to?’
‘It gets easier.’ Fin led the way back to the jeep.
‘Hmph. I remember Kit saying that about getting shot at. Hasn’t happened yet.’
Fin just laughed.
It wasn’t a restful night, haunted by strange dreams and images. Jac woke suddenly at dawn, terrified and sweating, forcing control to her breathing, calming the panic.
I’m glad she told me the visions were unreliable. Wouldn’t want some of those incidents to look forward to.
She filled the water bottles at the stream and gave one to Kit. He didn’t look any better, leaning his back against the front wheel of the jeep. Fin had taken first and last night-watch and was standing motionless, bow in hand, outlined against the dawn light creeping through the tree canopy far above. She made one last check for any movement beyond the camp before walking over to Jac.
‘We need to move on soon. This logging road has been used recently otherwise it would be completely overgrown.’
Jac checked Kit’s pulse. ‘All this driving on bad roads is making his condition much worse.’
‘No choice. We have to keep moving. Parry may be able to delay, but he can’t call off the hunt completely. It would help to know what’s happening but we’re well out of transmission range.’
Bel pointed to the largest conifer on the edge of the clearing. ‘Karim showed me a good trick last year. He got extra power by linking four handsets together and transmitting from as high up as the handset will go.’
Kit almost managed a smile. ‘Can’t be possible.’
‘What?’
‘Karim actually climbing a tree?’
‘Come on, you know Karim. I climbed the tree, he issued instructions.’ Bel hesitated. ‘Fin? you know what I’m asking.’
‘It’ll get traced within minutes and only three people have fake-ID handsets.’
‘Are we worth burning a whole fake back-story?’
‘Yes. More than you know.’ Fin offered her own black handset. ‘Soon as you’re done we move out of here fast.’
‘Not as fast as whoever patches us through in the city.’ Bel collected handsets from Jac and Kit. She looked up into the dark pines with a frown of disquiet. ‘They’re brittle. Not like our oaks at home. But it’ll be good to get out of this shadow and into the sun.’
Jac held out her hand. ‘I’m smaller and lighter than you. I can go higher without breaking branches.’ She took the handsets and started to climb, moving easily and swiftly, becoming more cautious as she reached the thin upper branches.
At last she was above the canopy in warm sunlight. Relief. She connected the four unregistered handsets and keyed Mirel’s fake-ID contact.
*
Mirel was walking towards the city centre, dodging patrols to reach her volunteer post at the only surviving food bank in the city. She’d managed to keep up appearances in spite of the danger, long hair pinned back into a cascade of blonde flowing over her shoulders, a pastel contrast to the bright pink stripes of her dress.
She jumped visibly when her fake-ID handset buzzed. These things were expensive to burn and only activated in real emergencies. She took it out of her bag with shaking hands. Jac’s unregistered icon flashed onto the screen.
Mirel stopped dead in a moment of shock and confusion, frantically trying to remember what to do.
The trouble with incidents that hardly ever occur... no chance to develop habits––
She pulled the device apart, glanced anxiously over her shoulder and hurried away from the city centre.
*
Inside the security tracking station, an alarm beeped and two operators snapped alert in front of their screens. One of them saw a signal trace suddenly appear. Then disappear. She keyed frantically, trying to locate it. Her colleague looked over.
‘What’s up?’
‘Some really weird signal came in from nowhere, connected, then went dead.’
‘Where?’
‘Didn’t catch it in time. No, it’s back, connected to something else in sector five. Encrypted signal. Give me some backup here.’
*
The tree was swaying alarmingly in the wind. Jac’s handset buzzed. Mirel must have found a hotspot, plugged in unregistered and keyed both her and the hive, linking the two strands together. Her voice crackled over the distance.
‘Hive, it’s spot fifteen, kill it soon as you’re done. Jac, you’re in, good luck. And be quick.’
Jac heard Razz’s voice come online, his voice deep and clear above the static. ‘Hey, Jac. We wondered where you’d got to. Glad you’re still alive.’
‘We’re okay. Heading north, not sure if it’s the best thing to do.’
‘Jac, it’s the only thing to do. They are really going after you big time. So you cannot try to get back to the Tarn––not for a while, you’ll lead them right to it.’
‘Any other options?’
‘Raine went back to the Warren with a few people but don’t go there either––’
There was rustling and scuffling at the other end.
‘Razz? What’s up?’
‘One of the techs passing me a note. Hold on while I read it. Ah. The geeks here are telling me there’ll be a tracker in that jeep. Could be why staz aren’t too worried about a late start following you.’
‘Thanks Razz. We’ll head north to the Ice Islands.’
‘Good luck, sister. Now, Mirel! Get out of there quick and don’t forget to relocate the trace. I’ll tell the techs to disconnect spot fifteen as a precaution so don’t try to use it again.
Bring the dead bits of both handsets in here tomorrow for replacement. Now, run!’
*
The two tracking station operators were staring at their screens.
‘Damn. It’s gone––but I got the ID for what it connected to first time.’
‘It connected to something else the second time. Illegal encryption, but now that’s gone too it’ll take days to find it––no––the first one’s back, in the next sector.’
‘That’s better. I’ve narrowed it to a few yards now. Get the ground team over there.’
*
Mirel stood in the next city sector counting down on her watch. It seemed an eternity before the prescribed hundred seconds were up, telling her she could tear the handset apart, kill the trace and run for her life.
She promised herself she would never, ever, go out wearing high heels again.
*
Jac slithered back down the brittle branches and walked over to the jeep, wiping sticky pine resin off her fingers.
‘Tracker in here somewhere.’
She and Fin scrabbled around in the grimy under-corners of the military vehicle until they found it. Fin handed her a rag from the jeep with just a hint of mischievous smile. Jac tied the tracker into it and headed back up the tree. By the time she had scrambled down to the ground again the others had loaded their gear and turned the jeep, ready to leave.
Fin looked around calculating angle, distance, and terrain. ‘If staz approach from the south, their line of sight will lead them off-road to the tracker through this lovely swampy bit of forest.’
Jac laughed as she slid into the driver’s seat and eased the jeep back down the rough track towards the main road.
21
‘Congratulations, Colonel. Discovering their base, immediate good result, minimal cost.’
‘And no casualties, Mr President.’
‘Yes of course, I was about to say that. No casualties. Another TV interview this morning? Time slots are arranged, agree the text on your way out.’
Parry shifted his feet on the deep pile red carpet, trying not to notice how hideous it looked against the heavy gold pearl-glass walls of the oversized office. It was a distraction he didn’t need during his current priority of concealing the signal-tracking incident from Moris until the perpetrators had time to get clear.
‘There was one more thing, Mr President. I think I’ve demonstrated the value of the approach I recommended so perhaps I could increase the new military unit to one hundred? Save money in the long run.’
Moris’ eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘That’s a significant increase. And your record isn’t unblemished. You did lose the prisoners.’
‘With all due respect, I left them with Burton’s second in command under his original system. I can’t reform the entire security service on my first day.’
‘You sacked the person responsible? Court martial? Jail?’
‘I don’t believe it was the fault of the individual. It’s the system. Which is why I intend to reform it.’
‘How?’
‘With this new unit.’
Moris considered. ‘Very well. But I want results, Parry. Results. You will recapture those prisoners, particularly the older woman. Not just a bystander at a first aid clinic. She is Magdalene Mareschelle, a known Resistance leader and Pendrac associate. I saw the photographs.’
‘I have all their information now. It’s not cost-effective to pursue them further––’
‘You will recapture them. Soon.’ Moris looked sharply at Parry and frowned. ‘And incidentally, the photos and DNA samples from the arrest went missing. I only have images from the market camera––Mareschelle and the other woman, before they were arrested at the clinic. I’ve nothing for the other two.’
Parry kept his expression blank. I was hoping he wouldn’t notice. No chance now of erasing the market footage. Fin and Bel will have to stay well out of sight from now on.
‘As I said, sir, the whole system needs reform if I’m to prevent filing accidents like this in future. I will of course deploy reasonable measures to recapture these people, but I’m reluctant to divert resources from F2 paramilitaries. They’re a more serious threat.’
‘Why?’ Moris gave the question the tone of being rhetorical rather than genuine.
‘Seems they’re behind the bombing campaign.’
‘F2 is a small group of extremists that makes citizens dependent on us for protection.’
‘Are you sure food banks and clinics are a bigger threat than bombs?’
‘They give the resistance the attraction and power to recruit large numbers of people.’
‘Had you thought of instructing government to provide health and food security? Might solve the problem.’ Too late, Parry saw he’d overstepped the mark by a long way. Moris’ power was dependent on enforcing his section of Avarit’s global military-political hegemony and no amount of talk was going divert him from their profit priority.
Moris slammed his tablet onto the desk, glaring furiously at his new head of security.
Parry searched hurriedly for a way to defuse the mistake. ‘Is your press secretary ready now? I’d like to get this interview out of the way.’ He walked out, but not before he’d caught a glimpse of Moris staring at the grainy image of Magdalene Mareschelle, the light of a long-held vendetta in his eyes.
*
Smith was in the lead jeep with two transporters following, wrestling with conflicting sensations of satisfaction and frustration. Satisfaction that he’d managed to persuade Parry to let him lead this next stage of the hunt––and frustration that he’d only been allocated three vehicles and twenty personnel. With heavy automatics and grenades, but even so...
They’d been following the tracker signal north for several hours and it didn’t make sense when it suddenly veered off to their right. The jeep driver slammed to a stop, staring at the tussocks and rocks stretching uphill under the conifer forest. At Smith’s barked order to advance he resignedly picked up his weapon and followed the rest of the heavily armed and armoured team on foot up the steep slope.
The ground was muddy, boggy and uneven and they had a fairly horrible, ankle-wrenching time slogging uphill through the mess, following the tracker signal. When their scanners got a final fix on the thing far above their heads Smith learned, fuming, that he was now several hours behind his quarry.
He requisitioned more vehicles as backup.
22
Jac checked the map tablet before turning onto the cracked remains of the north-south motorway, relieved to get off the overgrown twisting roads that crossed the hills of the northern forest. They’d have to detour round all the wrecked bridges, but even so the going would be easier.
‘How much fuel have we got left?’ Bel leaned over, trying to read the screen.
Jac glanced at the readout. ‘Twenty minutes at most. We need a place to recharge.’
Bel said, ‘I wonder why Raine went back to the Warren? Because communications are better? It’s risky now staz know about it.’
Instinctively, Jac knew. ‘I think Raine just feels good when he’s there.’
‘I think we all do. It feels safer when you know every inch of the area, even in the dark.’
Fin interrupted. ‘Turn right here. The house is a couple of miles further down the next dirt track.’
Jac swung the jeep through a gap hacked in the barrier and steered it down the steep embankment to the remains of a narrow road.
‘Fin? How do you know about this place?’
Fin checked the map tablet again. ‘It’s part of the network the rangers use to take refugees north, but I haven’t been here for a while.’
The house was set in a stand of maple and ash, a squat sandstone building with a few brick sheds around it. Jac parked at the edge of the gravel drive. The trees seemed sparse and leafless for the time of year and the ground was bare except for occasional clumps of couch grass and fireweed.
‘Something’s different about this place. Wai
t here.’ Fin approached cautiously and knocked. The door opened and a broad-shouldered man in his sixties stepped into the yard.
‘Fin? We didn’t expect you to be here.’ He sounded surprised and curious.
‘Neither did I. Good to see you again Hennek, but for your sake we’d better not stay long. Have you got enough electric for a recharge?’
‘Sure.’ He glanced beyond the jeep, scanning the access track. ‘Bring it closer. How far behind you are they?’
‘Don’t know.’ Fin signalled Jac to move while Hennek went to fetch the cable. He plugged in and waved them to come inside the house.
‘You’ve thirty minutes to eat something while it fills. I sent Sasha to keep a lookout at the junction in case they’re closer than you thought.’
‘You’d better drive up and down the track a few times to take out our tyre marks. Military vehicles have distinctive treads.’
Hennek’s grey eyebrows registered amusement. ‘They are going to be annoyed with you if you’ve pinched one of their jeeps.’ He led the way to the kitchen and started laying food on the table. ‘No bread I’m afraid. Grain’s scarce since the last wet harvest. The other outlanders don’t have spare and we can’t grow anything since the sanitizers got us last September. Potato cakes with wild leaves and salted mutton?’
His broad face smiled a welcome and Jac wondered how long he’d been running a safe house for refugees. She took the offered plate gratefully.
‘A feast after pack rations for two days. How badly did the sanitizers get you?’
Hennek seemed gloomily resigned to the devastation wrought on his home and livelihood. ‘Three years’ debt slavery to pay off the fine. We got careless. I thought they wouldn’t come so far north and we needed more food with extra refugees coming through. I hoped we could grow again this spring but nothing germinated.’
Jac paused between heavenly mouthfuls of fried potato. ‘Where we are further south, it’s two years for the poison to leach out.’
Hennek nodded. ‘I asked Prasad in the next catchment and he reckoned it took him two years––I just thought we might be lucky. The neighbours gave us insurance food and sapling chestnuts. We’ll be back in crop in another five.’