by T. C. Edge
I didn't really have an answer. I'd been taking it liberally most nights since Ford gave it to me, and sometimes during the day as well. "Er..."
"And this drug?" interrupted my mother, freeing me from having to answer. Perhaps on purpose, I couldn't tell. There was something in her eyes that suggested it was. "What is it exactly?"
Carson's attention was drawn to her. "It's designed to give us more energy, Patricia," he explained. "Too much over a prolonged period of time, however, can be harmful. My son shouldn't be peddling it without fully explaining its effects, or proper usage."
"He did tell me to be careful with it," I said, stressing that point. "And, I've only been using it so I can be effective here. I've had lots to do, after all." The comment was intentionally pointed.
Carson nodded. "And for that, we are hugely grateful, Paige. Your after-hours activities with my son, however, aren't so important right now. He shouldn't be training you. It's as though he does it intentionally just to spite us."
"He's training you?" My mother's eyes harshened. "But...why? You don't need to fight, Paige. That isn't your responsibility."
I was closed in, getting it from both sides. The last thing I wanted was to discuss this right now, fraught as we all were.
"He's just...giving me a few pointers," I said, trying to cover the reality of what we were doing. "And, why shouldn't I learn to protect myself? I'm good, mother." I looked at Carson. "I can be a soldier, Mr Carson. I can..."
"No," he said firmly, shutting me down. "This isn't about how capable you are, Paige. It's a simple matter of value. We have dozens of highly trained and capable soldiers. But there is only one of you. Your mind is far more valuable than your soldiering skills. It should be protected, not put at risk."
My mother was nodding in fervent agreement. It seemed the two had found some common ground. "Something we agree on, Carson," she said. "I'm quite happy for Paige to continue working with the VLA, so long as her duties keep her here. There is no reason for her to risk herself as a soldier."
"No, there isn't," Carson agreed. "It is my son's fault for leading her on."
"And don't I get a say in this?" I asked, looking at both of them angrily. "Doesn't my opinion count for something?"
"Of course it counts for something," Carson said. "But we all have our specialisms, and it would be foolish for you to ignore yours. I know you want to be more actively involved, like your father was, but that isn't where your talents lie."
"You don't know that," I countered. "Maybe I have multiple talents."
"There's no maybe about it, as far as I've heard," Carson said. "You clearly have much of your father in you. That speed, that keen soldiering instinct. You would probably make a fine soldier and asset in the field, Paige, but that doesn't change the fact that your mind is unique. I know you're smart enough to see that."
He turned to my mother, taking a breath. An expression of historical weight, of nostalgia, seemed to form upon his face. He looked at her with a measure of fondness, and then turned his eyes back to me with the same. Within the short silence that fell, I felt myself eager to hear what he was going to say next.
"Your father," he began, speaking more slowly, "was a dear friend to me. When he left, I was the last person to see him. I travelled south with him, out of the city, right towards the coastal wall. He was intent, absolutely intent, on making it through. He was desperate to reach the lost continent, to get help, to save you." He looked to my mother. "To save you both. Save us all."
A sigh drove from his lips. I looked to my mother, and saw the tears glinting in her eyes.
"He made me promise that I would protect you," he went on. "That I would watch over you, and make sure you were safe. I have held to that promise, and have kept an eye on you both for years. I never wanted you joining our cause, Paige, but Harkin convinced me that we needed your help. I sent Ford to bring you in, thinking he was the best person for the job." He shook his head. "I should never have done that. I should have taken it upon myself."
He turned again to my mother, her shoulders closed in tight, tears beginning to trickle down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Patricia," he said gently. "I know we never knew each other well, but Max was my closest friend, and I've betrayed him by exposing both of you to all of this. I...Harkin...both of us - we have made promises that we haven't kept. But I will do what I can to rectify that." He turned his eyes again on me. "I will not have you put in harm's way, Paige. I am going to assign someone else to you from here on out. My son can no longer be trusted."
My chest began to tighten at his words. "No, I..."
"I'm sorry, but I cannot allow you to become a soldier with us. If I had it my way, none of this would have happened. We should never have exposed ourselves to you."
"And...the T-Chip?" I asked, holding my emotions together. "I spent all of last week making sure it was completed. And now, I'm what, just to be discarded?"
"No," he said. "That's not up to me."
"Then who? Harkin?"
"No, Paige, only you can decide whether you will continue to help us. Harkin wishes for your aid, but no one can force you to give it. I know it's hard to believe right now, but we only want what's best for you."
I stopped myself from huffing derisively. It was a cliche, but an earnest one. I had no real reason to doubt him, no matter how much I disagreed. "And how do you know what's best for me?" I asked, staying calm. "You can't possibly know what's in my head. Ford understood me, and now you're, what, going to stop us from seeing each other? Do you really think that's the best course of action?"
"It is the only course of action, at this time," he responded. "Things are more fraught than ever out there, and none of us need distractions."
"So that's what I am? You think I'm a distraction for your son?"
"I do not think it, Paige, I know it. That isn't intended as an insult, but a fact. He has been neglecting his duties to spend time with you, training you against our ruling. We cannot have that right now. He needs to keep his mind on the job."
"And this job?" I said. "This mission to take down Mantis. When will it be?"
He looked at me straight, his eyes flattening out. No answer spilled from his lips.
"I don't deserve to know?" I asked. "After all I've done?"
"It isn't about deserving or not..."
"Then what?" I cut in. "What is it about, Mr Carson? I have stockpiled T-Chips for you to use in this mission, and I don't even get to know when it's going to occur?" I shook my head. "I don't need to know where, Mr Carson. I just..." I put on a softened, upset tone, the sort I'd practiced plenty with Mr Beecham. "I just want to know when it's going to happen, that's all. It'll be a weight off my mind. Won't you give me that?"
My words were breaking through. I could sense him weakening, giving in. His lips let out a sigh and he nodded. "OK," he said. "I know Ford will have told you certain things, so I won't keep this little detail from you, Paige." He glanced at my mother and then straightened his eyes on me. "The deal will be happening this Saturday night, three days from now. I will make sure you are told once it is done."
I held back my grin. It was the first piece of the puzzle I needed.
"And Ford?" I asked. "If something happens to him..."
"You'll be told," he said. "I promise you that, at least."
A silence fell, as I collected my thoughts. I turned my eyes to the ground and nodded, holding an expression of mild distress on my face.
"Thank you again for coming, Mr Carson," I said eventually. My voice was calm and composed.
I knelt down, pulling out a drawer in the bed, where I'd stashed the work tools and parts. In there, were the T-Chips I'd completed. I grabbed them with one hand. With the other I took possession of the untraceable tracking bug, and concealed it in my palm.
I stood and turned around. "Here are the chips I've been stockpiling, as requested," I went on. "Just fix each one to any piece of tech - weapons and such - and they won't be traceable by the scanners. I hope
they will serve you well on Saturday."
I reached out with the small pack. Carson nodded gratefully as he took it.
"Well...thank you, Paige," he said. "They will be of great aid to us."
"I hope so."
He turned to my mother, preparing to say goodbye.
"Actually," I added quickly, playing my role well, "I should probably just test those T-Chips first, before you take them away." I let out a huffing laugh as he turned to me again. "I've been working so hard to get them done that I haven't actually tested them yet. Silly me." My eyes moved to the screen. "I can run a quick simulation. I just need a piece of ill-tech to test."
He considered it a second and then nodded. The idea of returning here if the chips didn't work probably wasn't overly appealing.
My eyes turned casually down to his sidearm, partially hidden beneath his coat. A man like him would have a favourite pistol. It would accompany him everywhere he went, I knew.
"How about your gun," I suggested casually. "It's ill-tech, I assume?"
He looked down at his hip. "Yes, of course," he said. He reached in and drew it out. "All right, then." He handed me the weapon and then the packet of T-Chips. "Go ahead, Paige. Let's see if it works."
I smiled and took the items to the small bedside table. Placing the pistol down, and with my back to Carson, I quickly and secretly slipped the tiny, untraceable tracking bug into a crevice on the underside of the barrel, completely out of sight. Then I opened the packet and drew out a T-Chip, before turning back to him, with both gun and chip in hand.
"All you have to do is place it on the weapon somewhere," I said, demonstrating. "Anywhere, really. It's small enough that it's almost impossible to spot unless you're searching for it. Just like this." I fixed the chip near the trigger, and then handed the pistol back to him.
He inspected it briefly, pursing his lips. The chip's colouring was almost identical to the weapon. It made it extremely difficult to see.
"Good," he said. "Very good. Even with my eyes, I struggle to see it."
"You have Variant vision?" I asked. "Specialised eyesight? I thought Ford did, but never got around to asking him."
"Both my son and I have enhanced vision," he confirmed, handing the weapon back to me. He seemed satisfied.
The trick had worked.
I quickly ran a simulation using the computer, and the results came up positive. I knew they would, of course, but that wasn't the point. I turned to him again and gave him back the weapon. "You're good to go, Mr Carson," I said. "All the chips should work fine."
He stashed the weapon, and nodded gratefully. "I can see that you are a mature young woman, Paige," he said. "Thank you for being so helpful. And for understanding. Your father would be proud."
"Thank you" I smiled. "I just want to make a difference, that's all."
"You have. And you will." He turned to my mother. "Until the next time, Patricia. Take care, both of you."
As he left the building, and hurried off through the streets, I turned to the screens and watched him go, one camera after another.
I'll be watching you, Mr Carson, I thought, letting a small grin run free. I refuse to be kept in the dark...
27
I stayed with Becca that night, watching her toss and turn after my mother departed.
She left not long after Carson, satisfied to have his support. After years of battling against me alone, to have the VLA's most potent agent on her side, and my father's once-best friend, was a boon she cannot possibly have expected.
"He's not so bad, after all," she said, summing up her feelings on the man before she hurried off home. "To think, he's been keeping an eye on us all this time. It looks like I got him wrong."
I didn't entirely share her perspective, though it wasn't because I thought Carson was being insincere. It was obvious to me that he'd cared for my father, and had kept to his promise to keep his family safe. Unfortunately, that was very much opposed to my own ambitions. One way or another, someone was going to have to give an inch or two.
And there was no way it was going to be me.
Alone in the safe-house, as Becca's light breathing turned inexorably towards heavy snoring - a sure sign, if ever there was one, that she was recovering just fine - I shut down the camera images on the screen and drew up an interactive map of the city. Then, to make sure that my activities remained hidden, I shut down the secret cameras that Ford had set up inside the safe-house too. This wasn't something I wanted him seeing.
Once done, I turned again to the interactive map, and immediately activated the bug I'd placed on Carson's pistol. A second later, a small red light began to flash on the map, indicating his precise position. He was quickly moving in the direction of the Bends.
My lips blossomed into a devious smile. "I see you, Carson," I whispered. "There's no hiding from me now."
I felt a swell of machiavellian pride, my cunning little plan coming together so nicely at the last minute. The tracker had been intended for Ford, a response to his recent elusiveness. I had expected that it would be him, too, who would reveal to me when the meeting between Mantis and Ursula would take place. The fact that it was his father who took his place on both counts was, I have to say, a rather unexpected twist.
Everything that had happened that night, intense though it was, had gradually mutated into a happy coincidence. I had given over the T-Chips. I knew the date of the deal. And now, all I had to do was keep an eye on Carson and watch where he went. I wasn't quite sure what I would do with that information yet, but something told me I wanted to be there, in the area at least, when it all went down.
I wanted to see Mantis.
I wanted to watch him get taken in.
Everything had been leading towards him, ever since I'd found Walter dying in his apartment. He had become my drive and goal, and it wasn't something I wanted to miss out on.
I drew a smile as I watched that little beeping red light move across the map.
It felt good, in a way, to be working on my own again.
I took no Rest-Less that night, choosing to abstain after what had happened. Would I give it up completely after this? It was hard to tell, but probably not. Though Carson seemed to have a particular disdain for it - most likely due to Ford's use and, perhaps, reliance on the drug - it seemed foolish to not take advantage of it at the right time.
Looking back on the past week or so, I felt no regrets over my own personal consumption. It had allowed me to operate on three fronts, and to a high capacity. Tonight, with Becca, was a freak accident and nothing more. I would apologise to her profusely, when she woke, and make sure it never happened again. I hoped that would be enough.
But that night it was off the cards, and the resulting exhaustion began to catch up with me. Sitting by her bed, I mused on things for as long as I could before my mind began to shut down and I found myself dropping off.
I woke up on several occasions, startled from my dreams. They were formless, the sort you don't fully remember, but which leave an emotional impression. I had a vague recollection of sharp bionic limbs and odd, distorted forms. I shuddered against the thought and the cold and checked each time to see that Becca was still sleeping, before turning my eyes up to the interactive map. The beeping red dot seemed to have taken up a permanent position somewhere in the slums. Most likely, it was the location of Lenny's safe-house.
I continued in that pattern for several hours, waking up occasionally, before finally doing so for good. I turned to Becca, as I had many times, and found that she was stirring as a new dawn began to rise. She coughed, sat up weakly, rubbed her eyes, and grimaced against the dim light in the room.
Then she uttered the sort of words that people say after waking from a drunken stupor.
"What...what happened?" she croaked. Her eyes blinked towards me, and I immediately drew her into a relieved and apologetic hug. My mouth flowed with the waters of contrition, gushing out in some incoherent mess.
And within that mess, sh
e remembered what had happened. A frown fell over her eyes and she looked at me sternly. "Don't tell me you're taking drugs, Paige," she croaked. She looked to the floor where she'd thrown up. "Please don't go down that road."
I almost cried at her words. It wasn't rebuke, but concern. Her first thought was not for her, but me.
Oh, sweet Becca...
"No, no, it's all right," I explained, gripping her hand tight. "It's not a drug, really. Not a bad one, anyway. It's just to help me work longer, Becs, give me more energy. I've been using it to be able to do, well, everything I've been up to recently."
She tipped her head back, mouth slightly open, as the penny finally dropped.
"So that's what it is," she said, nodding. "It makes so much sense now." She drew a hand to her forehead, grimacing. I imagined she was probably heavily dehydrated.
I rushed over and returned with some water. It was nice to see that her good humour remained intact when she said, "Are you sure it's safe to drink?"
I grinned as she swilled it down, before explaining a little more about the drug to put her at ease. I told her it wasn't intended for non-Variants, something I had no idea about before. I also told her what had happened after, with my mum, with Carson. I let her in on every little detail in a bid to try to make it up to her.
It seemed to work like a charm.
By the time I'd completed my telling, her trials were all forgotten, and I was all forgiven. It reinforced something I'd always thought about her. That this girl with the mousy brown hair, freckly nose, and two-coloured eyes, was the best damn friend I could ever hope to have.
And I owed her more than I could ever expect to repay.
"So," she said, looking more sprightly after chugging down a litre of water, "what are you going to do about it all then?"
Her eyes were on the screen, looking at the beeping red dot. It was still at Lenny's, but probably wouldn't stay there for long. Morning was rising quickly, and Carson didn't seem like a man who liked to stay still.