by T. C. Edge
“I don’t like it, but it’s what needs to be done,” I say again. “There’s no alternative.”
“There is,” comes Zander’s voice. We both turn to him. “Brenda’s right, Brie. Your memory needs to be retained, just hidden. I can do that. I can lock it away for only you to access. The agent won’t be able to find it.”
“You can really do that?”
He nods.
“And Brenda, I can do the same with you, if you wish? Or…there are other options. If you’d rather be kept out of all this, I can remove all traces of what you know…”
She firms up her eyes and shakes her head.
“No. I’m part of this now. I want to help Brie, wherever I can. If she’s going to be part of your cause, then I can’t stop that. But I can offer her guidance and support. I’d like to retain my memory if possible.”
“OK,” says Zander. “I’ll lock away everything Brie’s told you.” He turns to me. “And Brie, I’ll have to do the same with you. Everything you’ve been through since we met needs to be hidden. Soon, you’ll be able to do all of this yourself. But for now, this is the only way. Now stand against the wall, both of you, and try to relax. This will take a little while.”
As I stand back, sinking into the shadows, I spare a thought for Tess and feel a sense of vindication. Had I kept her in the loop, she’d be under threat too. Somehow I knew that something like this would happen.
And the fewer people who know what’s really going on, the better.
58
The agent from the SCU doesn’t come until early evening. For me, that’s a merciful gift. After having Zander in my head, searching for and manipulating my memories, I need some time to recover.
Mrs Carmichael does too. Once Zander’s completed his work, we return immediately to the academy and she disappears straight into the bottle. The fact that it’s barely mid-afternoon doesn’t seem to bother her.
Cracking open her favourite vintage – the ‘good stuff’ as she calls it, which she tends to reserve for special occasions – she pours a glass to the brim and sucks down a long gulp.
Letting out a sigh, she shakes her head and mumbles: “That was unpleasant.”
She’s right. It was. Although I’m beginning to get used to it.
Sitting in her office, I silently try to recall the memories he’s hidden. It takes a little effort, but all appear to me, murky and shrouded. I’m well aware of what’s been happening to me these last few weeks, and yet somehow I feel less anxious about everything, my mind not quite seeing things as clearly as before.
It’s exactly as Zander said it would be. He told us that we’d be able to access the memories, but only with a bit of focus, and that we should feel some relief from the stress that the recent days have brought.
In a sense, it’s actually quite liberating. I can only assume that Zander performs such mental surgery on his own memories, locking them away a little deeper so they don’t have such an impact on his day-to-day thoughts.
Perhaps that’s what he’s done with our parents? Perhaps that’s why he’s appeared disinterested in finding out more about them?
I suppose it makes sense. He’s locked them away somewhere deep, refusing to bring them up in order to maintain his focus. I remember back a few days, to when he told me about the first man he killed, the man who murdered his guardian, Linda.
After telling me his story, he became subdued. Perhaps such a memory had been kept sealed from his thoughts for some time, only to be opened up so he could share it with me.
In the end, there’s something quite attractive about suppressing painful recollections.
Naturally, Mrs Carmichael’s wariness and distrust of what she doesn’t understand roars to the fore as she settles into her drink. She doesn’t appear to believe that Zander’s efforts will work, and considers that the agent of the SCU will simply be able to recover our memories as easily as we can.
“Trust Zander,” is the only advice I give her. “He knows what he’s doing.”
I only wish that he could have suppressed her deep-set cynicism. She could certainly use a bit of personality adjustment on that front.
Before evening arrives, bringing the agent along with it, I turn my mind to Adryan. There truly is no rest for the wicked – and once I’ve committed murder, well, I’ll certainly be that – and I’m expected back at the western gate to Inner Haven by 7PM.
The letter that Mrs Carmichael snooped on gives that instruction, but little else. It merely states that I’m to go to the gate, as before, where Adryan will meet me. Any details of what will occur during our second ‘date’ are not included.
I prepare my exit before the SCU agent arrives. I shower, put on the blue dress that I first wore at the ceremony in Inner Haven, and set about searching for a pair of suitable shoes. Given how I had to throw away my adjustable heels last time, I don’t exactly have anything appropriate myself.
If I had time, I might just call on Sophie to help, but I don’t. Instead, it’s my guardian who supplies the aid, passing me the only set of suitably coloured shoes she has – a fairly bland pair of sky blue flats that really don’t suit the dress or properly fit my feet.
I suspect that I’ll have some fresh blisters tomorrow, this time on my toes.
By the time the agent turns up, I have my sparse makeup on and have done the best I can with my hair. I hardly look like I did after my trips to the beauty parlour, but it’s a start.
At the agent’s behest, all the residents of the academy are told to gather downstairs in the foyer. Going down dressed as I am, I get plenty of funny looks. I’m used to that by now.
However, most of them already know that I’m courting an Enhanced, and so aren’t overly surprised to see me dressed as such. Still, the sight of me descending the spiral staircase looking like something out of a low budget fairy-tale is plenty to garner a few staring eyes. I know I must look ridiculous, but right now there are far more urgent matters for me to worry about.
As I come down, my eyes find the agent for the first time. I’m surprised to see that it’s a woman, tall and thin and dressed in her light grey suit with the city badge emblazoned on the front.
Her hair, too, is similarly coloured, which I find odd considering she doesn’t look that old. In her late thirties, perhaps. Too young in my mind to have a full head of grey hair.
The look is striking, though, and as I get closer, I notice that her eyes are so dark they’re nearly black. She stares around the room with a shark-like glare, surveying all of us gathered before her. Unlike the rest, she offers no reaction whatsoever to my choice of attire.
She isn’t alone. To her flanks, two other officials have come with her. It’s immediately clear from both of their faces that neither are Savants, but regular members of the City Guard sent along with the agent to offer their aid.
The agent addresses us, her tone as unappealing as her physical appearance.
“Good evening, boys and girls, my name is Agent Woolf of the SCU. I am sure you are aware that some criminals escaped into the city a few nights ago. These people are very dangerous, and need to be apprehended immediately. Among their number was a resident from this academy, Joshua Brent. It is my duty to make sure that none of you are hiding any information about his whereabouts, or who helped him escape.”
Her eyes swing metronomically from one face to the next. No one makes a sound.
“I will be speaking with each and every one of you individually, starting with the youngest. If you could please arrange yourselves into order of age, we will begin shortly. It shouldn’t take long.”
I glance at the clock above the reception desk. It’s already growing late, and I have a date I have to keep.
I step towards Agent Woolf as the rest of the kids begin to arrange themselves in order. That alone is going to take some time. I suspect some of these kids don’t even know when their birthdays are. When being taken in by an orphanage, certain details like birthdates can get lost during the tran
sition.
I also note that Tess isn’t present, her work clearly keeping her overdue. I assume, since curfew is about to begin, she must have a pass to get home a little later. If she doesn’t have official documentation with her, I might just find myself having to recruit my brother for another prison break…
As I approach Agent Woolf, she lays her cold eyes on me. Behind me, Mrs Carmichael begins working to get the kids in order. She probably knows their own birthdays better than they do, if at all.
“Agent Woolf, can I have a word?” I say.
She nods me forward as her two guards watch from the sides of the hall.
“What is it, Miss Melrose,” she asks.
I recoil for the briefest of moments as she says my name. Then it dawns on me that she most likely recognises me from the ceremony. After all, I’m wearing the same dress, and she’s a Savant. They’re all rather gifted in the memory department.
“Would you mind doing me first?” I ask. “I know I’m one of the oldest here, but I have an important engagement that I need to get to.”
She peruses my appearance.
“You’re going to Inner Haven,” she surmises. “I assume you’re in the process of courting?”
“Um, yes. I’ve been told to get to the western gate for 7PM.” I arch my eyes to the clock. “I don’t want to keep him waiting.”
“No, I understand. OK, well that seems reasonable to me. I’ll need some privacy and quiet to conduct my interviews. Could you recommend somewhere?”
“The common room would be best,” I say. “This way.”
I move through the crowd of gathered children, stopping at Mrs Carmichael.
“Brenda, Agent Woolf is going to do me first, seeing as I have somewhere to be. We’re going to use the common room.”
She nods, her eyes a little wary. I drop my right eyelid into a wink to say: “I’ve got this.”
Leading the agent on, I feel strangely relaxed. My major concern had been that the agent might be able to sense my abilities, and determine that I was a hybrid. Zander put that worry to bed by telling me my own knowledge of my gifts have been suitably hidden, and should be perfectly well protected from any mental intrusions.
I went on to tell him about Titus, and how he quickly worked out what I was, suggesting that a Mind-Manipulator would have no such trouble. Again, he didn’t seem concerned.
“Titus knew because of the way you were looking at him. It’s a dead giveaway for all Hawks. And given how he found you, he clearly just worked it out from a situational standpoint. As long as you relax, and don’t use your Hawk or Dasher powers, you’ll be fine.”
I had to defer to his superior knowledge and experience. All I have to do is open my eyes, let this woman quickly examine my memories, and then be on my merry way.
Simple, right?
Reaching the door to the common room, I open it up and step to one side, allowing Agent Woolf passage within. She glides through as I follow, shutting the door tight and inviting her to sit.
She turns to me, shaking her head.
“No need, Miss Melrose. This shouldn’t take long. If you’d stand over here, please, and stay as still as you can. Keep your eyes open, and try to relax.”
They’re the same instructions as I’ve heard before. From Deputy Burns, from Zander. She won’t know it, but I’m becoming a seasoned pro at having my mind examined like this. Soon enough, the shoe will be on the other foot…
I move to the location she assigns, right in the middle of the room, and stand before her feeling almost entirely calm. There’s only the slightest shuffle of nerves inside me, just a ripple on an otherwise tranquil pond. It’s nothing really, fading quickly as it skims through me.
Agent Woolf moves in right ahead of me, just as Zander did earlier. Her black eyes begin to open a little wider, and she fixes me with a stare that will almost certainly give some of the younger children here nightmares.
“OK, I’m just going to inspect your memories for any knowledge of Joshua and his possible location. If you have nothing to hide, then there’s no reason to be anxious.”
I nod and then turn as still as a statue. Her pupils, barely visible within her dark eyes, begin to dilate, spreading wide as they search me.
As always, the sensation is unpleasant as she begins to creep inside my head. For the other kids, it’s going to be even more so, although will make for plenty of gossip later on.
This experience is new, however. In the past, having someone examine my memories had tended to bring them back to the surface. As they sift through them, they appear before me too, playing out like a highlights reel of my recent life.
Only this morning, when Zander quickly caught up on what had happened to me over the last couple of days, I saw it all once more. It came in flashes – the Stalkers, the river, the waterfall and toxic woods. As he saw it all, so did I once again.
But right now, it’s different. My memories of the last few weeks have been locked away, hidden and replaced. Instead, counterfeit memories have been implanted, false records of me performing the regular, boring duties that I’d otherwise be doing.
Working. Doing chores. Helping Mrs Carmichael keep the kids in order. All the normal things that populated my world before Zander came on the scene and revealed who I truly was.
Yet, naturally, such false memories can never be as convincing as real ones. Instead, they’re murky and clouded, blurred re-runs of my old life. Once again, Zander had told me exactly what would happen, and how such fake memories would manifest, calming my concerns that the agent would see right through the lies.
“Don’t worry,” he’d said only hours ago. “Not everyone develops clear and distinct memories, especially when relating to hum-drum activities that they perform on a daily basis. A lot of the time, people can barely remember what they had for breakfast. They flow through their lives on autopilot, and when you try to read their minds, the image can be dulled.”
“But won’t it look suspicious?” I’d asked.
“No, it shouldn’t. It’s perfectly normal. And in any case, the agent will be looking for specific memories relating to Drum. She’ll find nothing, don’t worry. Everything that happened is safely hidden.”
As always, Zander’s confidence helped give me strength. And now, as Agent Woolf concludes her inspection, and slowly draws back, I have further reason to never doubt him again.
“OK, Miss Melrose, thank you.”
“That didn’t take long,” I say, rubbing my temples and pretending as if this is my first experience of such an invasion.
“No, there’s no reason for it to do so. It’s obvious that you have strong feelings for Joshua. I’m sure I’ll get the same with many of the residents here, with this being such a unique community. But my initial conclusion is that you have no knowledge of his whereabouts.”
“Initial conclusion?” I ask, frowning.
“Yes. I may require further examination after I’ve reviewed the rest of the residents. That will provide a clearer picture to ensure that all memory threads line up.”
“Right,” I say. “So, I can go?”
“Yes, of course, Miss Melrose. I won’t keep you from your engagement. Please send in the next child on your way out.”
I nod, and creep away from her. Her eyes stay with me as I go, showing absolutely nothing. That’s the problem with Savants. She might be entirely suspicious of me and I’d never even know it.
I leave the room and take a breath. It seems as though Zander’s manipulations held up. They’d better. If they don’t, then it’s game over for me. And, more importantly, my mission too.
Returning to the foyer, I find Mrs Carmichael awaiting me. Behind her, the kids are all neatly ordered, many of them looking rather sheepish under the watchful gaze of the two Enhanced sticking to the corners of the room.
“You can send the next one in,” I say as I reach her.
She turns and nods to the first child in line. He’s new here, perhaps only 4 or 5 years
old, blessed with big blue eyes and a mop of curly blond hair.
“Liam, off you go to the common room,” says Mrs Carmichael.
The poor boy wanders forward, looking like a frightened mouse. The kid’s only just lost his parents and now he has to suffer this. I doubt whether he even knows who Drum is.
“Surely he doesn’t need to go through this,” I say, watching him tremble as he moves to the corridor.
“Orders are orders,” says Mrs Carmichael. “It won’t take a minute for him. He’ll be alright.” She leans a little closer to me. “But how about you?” she whispers. “Did it go…OK?”
“Fine, as far as I can tell. She didn’t give much away, but seemed satisfied.”
“Good,” says Mrs Carmichael, nodding. “The sooner we get past this little episode, the better.”
I’m thinking the same thing. Sometimes you don’t realise just what consequences your actions will have. Saving Drum, while something I had to do, has almost derailed everything.
Yet I’d do it again.
I’m not a Savant, looking at things logically. They’d probably work out the possible repercussions of an event and then determine the proper course of action based on that. I can’t imagine that any of them would conclude that breaking Drum free was the sensible move.
And I suppose, that’s exactly what we’re fighting for. When it comes to friends and family, and those you care about, sometimes you just need to follow your heart, logic be damned.
And that, after all, is something that Savants will never understand.
59
With curfew imminent, I speed my way to the western gate into Inner Haven. By some stroke of luck, I manage to arrive just before 7PM, finding a typically colossal Brute standing guard at the border.
As I approach, I try to work out whether it’s the same man as before. Hidden behind his armour and helmet, he’s more or less indistinguishable from the rest.