by T. C. Edge
I can hear the rising passion in his voice, see it in his eyes. This is clearly a fight he’s been waging for many years, ever since he was a boy.
But for me…for me it’s all new. Despite my curiosities and doubts, I never considered that such a plot was being perpetrated from within. Living in my blissful ignorance, I’ve spent my entire life in Outer Haven, knowing nothing of the truth.
Until now.
And tentatively, my voice rises into the cold, dark passage with another question. Yet another part of this puzzle that I need to solve.
“And…why am I here?” comes my whisper.
Zander spreads his eyes down the passage again, right towards the deep blackness. Then he reaches forwards once more, and pulls the goggles back over my eyes.
“You’re here, Brie, because you have a part to play in this,” he says. He takes my arm again, and continues to lead me on. “Now come…she’s waiting for us.”
26
Our path continues for quite some time. My knowledge of this area is so lacking that I have no idea how far away the boundary of the city truly is. And hidden behind these goggles, my perception of distance is most certainly hampered.
Eventually, the air begins to grow less stale, and the earth appears to rise a little. I consider that we must be nearing the end of our path, rising back up to the city streets and a new secret hideout.
When Zander stops me and removes my goggles, my suspicions are confirmed.
“Are we here?” I ask.
He nods, placing the goggles in his jacket pocket and drawing out what appears to be two gas masks. I frown as he passes me one, before drawing his own over his face. It’s small and practical, covering only his nose and mouth and, presumably, allowing him to breathe in toxic environments.
“What’s this for?” I ask.
His eyes dart towards a ladder next to us, leading up towards a little trap door.
“You’ll see,” he tells me. “Now put it on. It’s more precautionary than anything.”
I do as I’m told, hooking the mask to my nose and mouth and taking a breath. Then he moves straight for the ladder and climbs to the summit, disappearing through the trapdoor as I follow.
Emerging from the top, I look to see that I’m in what seems to be an old, wooden barn of some kind. The walls are broken down and cracked, the air carrying a light tinge of green to suggest its toxicity.
We move towards the barn door, and Zander pushes it open. As I follow him out my heart almost bursts from my chest, my eyes popping wide and stinging a little from the air. I tighten them up, but still look upon my surroundings with a gormless, slack jawed gape.
I’m outside the city.
In the distance, I can see it, shining like a beacon, the High Tower visible above it all and stretching skyward to the heavens. Around me are old derelict buildings, simple structures: little houses and barns and, ahead, an old church that looks to be more sturdily constructed.
It’s towards the church that Zander leads me, my eyes now narrow to prevent the air from stinging too much. I suppose it can’t be too damaging, otherwise we’d be wearing goggles. More dangerous to our respiratory systems, I guess, than anything else.
I continue to stare in all manner of directions as we press on, the moonlight casting down its glow upon this strange, ancient world. A village where people once lived, so long ago, before the world crumbled into the ash. Before vast swathes of it became uninhabitable.
Here, people must have lived simple lives, the world open for exploration, for travel. I often think of such times with no small amount of envy, when people could visit far flung lands and explore wild, untamed environments.
No longer.
Now, the only people who move beyond the boundaries of the city are those tasked with clearing the air of its toxicity, of making other lands safe for habitation.
I’ve heard many stories of workers dying from the toxic fog. Even their protective suits can fail to offer full protection from the mist.
Naturally, the concern boils up in me as we approach the church.
“Are we safe here?” I ask. “In this toxic air?”
“Perfectly,” replies Zander casually. “This particular area is largely cleared.”
His confidence settles my concerns as we reach the church door. He knocks loudly and with a distinctive pattern, the banging sound echoing out into the misty night. Then, moments later, the door creaks open and a man appears, dressed in lightweight armour and carrying a pulse rifle.
Stepping back, he opens the door wider, revealing the reinforced interior of the church, its windows barred and any old cracks and fissures in its façade sealed. Inside, various other guards sit or stand around, a force of hybrids most likely with all manner of special gifts. None wear gas masks, suggesting the church itself is fully sealed from outside.
As we enter, Zander pulls away his own mask, and I do the same, noting the many eyes watching me curiously as I advance.
“We heard the market was attacked,” says the guard who gave us entry. “Did we lose many?”
“I don’t know,” answers Zander. “But it seemed to be worse than more recent attacks. I need to see her immediately.”
The guard nods and continues to guide us towards the rear, where a second guarded door awaits. We’re given passage inside, and enter into a short corridor with a third door at the end. As the door behind is shut off, leaving Zander and me momentarily alone, I feel a keen sense of nerves brewing.
“Who is this woman?” I ask. “And why was everyone staring at me?”
“They’re just on high alert, think nothing of it. And this woman is one of the leaders of our cause.”
“Leaders?! And why am I meeting her?!”
“Because she requested it,” comes his swift response. “Don’t look so nervous. If you can handle standing up in front of all of Inner Haven, you can handle this…”
He presses on and knocks on the door ahead. I wait, trying to control my breathing, but thinking myself completely unprepared for this and completely out of my depth.
So, sure, maybe I am a hybrid, and maybe a few abilities will manifest in me, but there appears to be dozens of hybrids around here. Maybe more. Hundreds, I don’t know.
Why am I so special?
As my mind whirls, the door opens, and a warmth spreads from inside. I see a crackling fire giving off a comforting orange glow, the room carpeted in a warm maroon and far more inviting than the main part of the church behind us.
Zander steps in first, and I follow right behind, searching for this woman we’re here to see. I turn to the window, and see a shadow looming, staring out over the cityscape beyond, at the High Tower soaring high and illuminated with a pale glow.
We stop before her, and a cool voice drifts towards us, calm and measured, her words deliberate.
“This must be the girl you’ve been telling me about, Zander.”
“Yes, Lady Orlando. This is Brie Melrose.”
The shadow turns, the light of the fire revealing her features. Dark eyes look upon me, searching and yet distant. Her face is pale and narrow, cheeks hollowed out and gaunt. There’s a frailty to her frame, and yet a conviction in her face. I can’t tell if she’s welcoming or not, a smile rising on her face that leaves me confused.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Brie,” she says, stepping away from the window towards me. “Your performance at the ceremony was rather good, I thought.”
“Um…thank you,” I say, as she extends a bony hand.
I grip it and after a formulaic double shake, she slips her fingers from mine.
“I do apologise for interrupting your segment up there,” she continues. “However, it was quite fortunate that you happened to appear before us all like that.”
My confusion remains absolute. Now’s the time for answers.
“Was it you?” I ask. “On the screen?”
“Oh…good God no, child. That was one of our many faithful warriors. The message, how
ever, was something we all believe in.”
“That the Fanatics are actually under the control of the Savants,” I say.
“I see Zander’s been informing you of things already.”
“Well, actually Lady Orlando, she largely drew the conclusion for herself.”
“I see. It’s clear, however, that you remain in the dark about a great many things, Brie. I can see that your main question is simply…why are you here?”
I nod, and watch the smile continue to settle on her face, unmoving.
“Well, you, dear girl, are in a quite unique position among our ranks.”
Our ranks? It’s as if she’s already assimilated me right in…
“How so?” I ask.
“You are a unique mix, and potentially a special talent,” she answers. “You have a power inside you that few have, as well as a position among the Unenhanced that presents a unique opportunity…”
“I…don’t understand? What do you want me to do?”
She hovers over to a little side table by the fire, and pours herself a glass of whiskey. Clearly a favourite drink amongst the old ladies of this city.
In fact, the manner in which she’s delaying reminds me a little of Mrs Carmichael. It’s obvious that what they want from me isn’t going to be easy.
Sipping her whiskey, she directs a question at Zander.
“Are you absolutely sure it’s her?” she asks.
He looks at me, his endless gaze working its way right through me.
“I’m sure, Lady Orlando,” he says.
She pours another two glasses of whiskey, and hands one to Zander, and then one to me.
“Take a sip, it’ll calm you,” she says. “I can see the concern in your eyes, Brie. But know this…you’re not going to be forced to do anything you don’t want to do. If you so wish, you can return to your academy and continue as you have been. If you choose to join us, however, you will need to know what you’re getting yourself into.”
Her words, and the sip of whiskey, do their job. I feel my body settling, my nerves being doused, the fire of fear and worry inside me slowly quenched.
These people killed my parents. I have no choice. I can’t turn back.
I won’t turn back.
My silence and the sudden calm in my demeanour draw a fresh smile onto Lady Orlando’s face.
“Good,” she says. “Now, I’m sure by now that Zander has informed you that the world you live in isn’t quite what it seems. The Court have been working towards suppressing the liberties of the Unenhanced for many years. Truly, your visit to Inner Haven will have opened your eyes to the world they have created for themselves, and the Enhanced. It is their aim to make all lands under their rule as such…”
“Zander told me,” I say, nodding. “I never knew it was so bad.”
“Well, it is. However, we have no true idea of what their full intentions are. There are things that go on in the High Tower that none of us are privy to, and we’ve been looking for someone who can go to Inner Haven as a spy…”
As she speaks, my eyebrows descend lower and lower, and my features curl up with utter confusion.
“A spy,” I find myself cutting in. I can’t help it, despite who I’m talking to. “You want me to be a spy! How can I do that?!”
“I understand your doubts, Brie. So let me explain. We have a man on the inside, a man who is currently unattached. He is due to attend a bachelor ball in the coming days, and with the impact you made during the ceremony, I’m sure we’ll be able to get you to attend as well. As far as they know it, you’re just an exceptional Unenhanced. It’s the perfect cover.”
“But…attend a bachelor ball…for the Enhanced? You have to be kidding me! So you want me to have a relationship with this man?”
“It will be nothing but a sham,” comes Zander’s voice. I find my eyes narrowing as I look at him. This is why he brought me here. “You’ll be able to operate undercover in Inner Haven, and can help us from the inside. You’d be doing a world of good, Brie…”
“But why me?! I mean, what can I offer? How could I possibly get into the High Tower?!”
A million other queries and concerns materialise in my head as Zander and Lady Orlando share a look.
“Settle yourself, Brie,” says Lady Orlando. “Take another sip of whiskey. It helps, it really does.”
I do as ordered, taking a moment to compose myself.
“Now, we understand this is all a bit of a shock,” she continues. “That is only natural. However, as you well know, it is common for Unenhanced to marry into the ranks of the Enhanced, and live in Inner Haven. With your profile as it is, and the hidden abilities inside you, we consider you a prime candidate to take on this mission…”
“But I’m no spy, and I don’t even know what abilities I’ll have, if any! And, what if they find me? What if they discover that I’m a hybrid? I’ll be killed…”
Once more, my voice quickens, forcing Zander to slide in beside me and offer me a comforting arm. As he does so, I hear Lady Orlando whispering quietly to him.
“Tell her, Zander. She needs to know. I’ll give you some space.”
I raise my eyes again to see the old lady shift towards the door. Before she leaves, she offers a final few words to me.
“You are compelled to do nothing, Brie. Remember that. You can forget all of this, if you want, and return to your world. The choice, really, is yours.”
With that, she opens the door and slips out of the room, leaving Zander and me alone once again. I find the whiskey glass back at my lips, my desire for a refill quickly growing stronger.
Zander seems to sense such a thing. The bottle is sought and a fresh supply emptied into my glass. After returning the bottle to the table, he wanders slowly over towards the window, his eyes set on the distant shape of the High Tower, glowing in the darkness.
A short silence follows, before his voice registers in the room once more, softer this time, more calm.
“My mother once lived there,” he says, gazing into the night.
The words take a moment to register.
“Your mother…was a Savant?” I ask, still standing by the fire.
I see his head nod, his body so still. I wonder how far his eyes can take his gaze, whether he can make out the details of the High Tower, see the shadows of shapes moving within.
“My mother had strange powers that she passed to me. I can see into people’s minds, Brie, read and manipulate their thoughts. For a long time, I was like you, hidden in Outer Haven, my abilities suppressed. Then, my life changed one day, and I found myself on this path. It’s one I’ve trodden since I was just a boy…”
I find myself moving towards him, drawn in as he speaks. There’s a melancholy to his words, a suppressed sadness and simmering anger, locked down below the surface.
As I come, nearing his side, I whisper into the now quiet room: “You’re a Mind-Manipulator?”
“I’m many things,” he says. “Many things, like you…”
I reach him and turn my eyes to his, still fixed to the distance and refusing to blink.
“But how do you know? How do you know what I am?” I ask, my voice little more than a murmur now.
His hand slips into his jacket. His fingers withdraw a piece of card, folded in two. Finally, he turns to me, opening the card up before his eyes.
“I know what you are, Brie…I know what you can do…because you can do what I can. We’re one and the same. And when I saw you, on that big screen, I finally knew…I’d found you…”
His words come out slowly as he opens the card, twisting it around to show me the other side.
My breathing halts. My heart-rate suddenly grows stiff. My eyes lock to the picture, to the image of my parents, looking down at their child.
But not one child.
Two.
Then, slowly, my eyes lift again and meet with Zander’s. Hazel, like mine, deep as an ocean. And a smile forms on his face.
“You and me…w
e’re twins, Brie.”
THE END
The Enhanced will continue in the next book, Hybrid.
Part II
HYBRID
27
There are different depths of silence.
It isn’t merely a single definition of a period of time with no sound at all. That’s what I used to think. No longer.
Some silences are so deep that you wonder if they’ll ever be broken. You wonder if your words would actually interrupt them. Right now, if I were to speak, would my words materialise? Or would they just get swallowed up by the depths of this long, lingering quiet?
Zander stands before me, his own tongue tied up behind his lips, his eyes seeming to lock in place as they search me. Search for any reaction on my face, in my eyes, in the internal mechanisms going on inside me.
My heart rate and rate of breathing and the almost imperceptible shivering of my limbs. All things that Zander can see and read.
All things he can feel.
He awaits my voice, though, and a break to my sudden onset of muteness. I hardly register the passing of the moments that turn to long seconds, and the seconds that turn to minutes.
For several of them, it seems, I just stand there, letting his words settle inside me. Looking at this boy of my age – exactly my age – with the same eyes as me, and the same genes, and the same DNA.
This boy with the same parents.
I look at him and he just looks back, and in my head the reality begins to dawn.
I have a brother.
I have a twin.
I’m not alone after all.
I want to question it. To query this most absurd of revelations. To shake my head and display the most pronounced frown I can manage, and then turn away and await some sort of further explanation.
But I don’t do any of that.
Instead, I just look at him, and let the truth settle. Let it permeate my mind and colonise my thoughts. Let the silence do its job for a time, and hold back my disbelieving, questioning, doubtful self from storming to the fore.