by Steve Feasey
‘He does look bad, doesn’t he?’ Melk said. The man was standing at her side and had clearly noticed her reaction.
‘You should be ashamed of yourself, Mr President. This is not the way a civilised society acts towards its own people.’
Melk grunted. ‘If it were up to me, I’d have shipped him off to TS1 some time ago.’
‘Without a trial?’ Tia asked, doing her utmost to hold herself together.
Melk merely waved a hand in the air, the gesture leaving Tia in no doubt as to what the elderly politician thought of the Six Cities’ judicial system. How had things got so bent out of shape so quickly? Yes, the Pure–Mute situation had always been unjust. Yes, the political situation in the Six Cities was known to be flawed and, yes, a number of people inside the Wall pretended that these things didn’t really matter. But this? If a man like her father could be locked away simply because he dared to criticise Melk and his cronies, then nobody was safe. It was a dictatorship, and the man next to her wielded all the power.
Get a grip, Tia, she told herself. Now is not the time to lose your nerve.
‘Let’s get down to the matter in hand, shall we?’ Melk nodded in her father’s direction. ‘You might have observed that your father is wearing a rather snazzy bit of neckwear.’
Tia had indeed noticed the collar around her father’s throat, but had incorrectly assumed that it was some sort of prisoner identification device, due to the red winking lights set into a small screen at the front.
‘When we spoke yesterday, Miss Cowper, you told me of your “insurance policy”, and how, if anything should happen to you, your supposed findings would be revealed, destroying not just me, but my family name. A bold play, I have to admit, and one that forced me to take notice. Well done, young lady – you managed to get my attention.’
Tia waited.
‘Well, the device around your father’s neck is my insurance policy. It’s a variation on something we have been using in a cybernetic experiment I’m conducting. The collar contains an electrical unit that can be remotely activated at any time, killing the wearer instantly. The same thing would happen if anybody should attempt to cut the collar off.’ He paused and pretended to remove a piece of dust from his jacket sleeve. ‘One of my people came up with the idea as an alternative to prison. More civilised in some ways, don’t you think?’ Tia was staring at the thing in horror, and her reaction wasn’t lost on the politician. ‘Yes, I thought you’d appreciate it, Miss Cowper. You see, it’s a perfect counter to your own strategy.’
‘You won’t get away with this,’ she said. ‘The people of C4 will not tolerate this kind of thing. My father has friends in high places, he’ll –’
‘Au contraire, my meddling little friend. Your father is an enemy of the state, and the people of City Four have recently, at first hand, experienced what can happen when such people are not controlled. It was, after all, enemies of the state who detonated bombs here. Towsin Cowper’s so-called friends have, largely, forsaken him – as you would know if you’d been around instead of playing at being a journalist with a bunch of extremist mutants.’ He paused, enjoying himself. ‘I will make an announcement informing the people that I have magnanimously agreed to free your father. He can cover that thing up quite easily and go about his business as he did before. But you and I will know the consequences of betrayal in this matter. Towsin is perfectly safe, as long as you keep your end of our bargain and never release the information you claim to have on me.’
Tia was struggling to control her terror. ‘I gave you my word. That isn’t good enough for you?’
‘I make a habit of never listening to such paltry pledges. No, this –’ he gestured in her father’s direction again – ‘is a much better solution for all concerned. You have your insurance policy; I have mine. It’s not exactly a win–win, but neither is it a lose–lose situation. It keeps both of us … honest.’
Tia placed her hand on the glass as if she might be able to reach through it and touch her father. Of all the scenarios she’d played out in her head, this had never been one of them. She’d thought she was being so clever, but she should have known Melk would not take her threats lightly. That’s what happens when you make a deal with the devil, she thought. Nevertheless, he was offering her a chance to free her father, albeit under terrible circumstances. She glanced at the politician. Melk wouldn’t consider this the end of the matter. The man would, as they spoke, have as many people as he could muster trying to find out where she’d hidden the files. Should he succeed, the stalemate would quickly turn into checkmate, and then both she and her father would ‘disappear’ forever. She was about to say something when another thought occurred to her. ‘Does he know what that thing is?’ she asked.
‘No. I thought I would leave it up to you to decide what to tell him. As far as he is concerned, it’s a tracking device he must wear as part of his release agreement. He does, however, know that any attempt to remove it would be bad for his health.’
I don’t have any choice, she thought. ‘OK,’ she said, doing her best not to let her emotions show in her voice. ‘I agree. You free my father and I will sit on those files.’
‘Not so fast, young Miss Cowper.’
‘But you said –’
‘There are some other conditions that you and your dear papa must agree to for this to happen.’
‘Do you think I’m bluffing about the information I have on you, Mr President? Because if so –’
The older man cut her off again. ‘If you want to dilly-dally, do so. Your father can be returned to the cells and continue to suffer the mistreatment his fellow detainees have been doling out to him during his time here. If that should happen, it would be you, not I, who would be to blame. As I have already said, you’ve played the game well. However, it would be foolish to throw away all your hard-earned advantages now.’
‘What are these conditions?’
‘Your father is to retract everything he has said about me during the last six months and publicly state that my re-election was the right decision for the people of C4 to make.’
She almost laughed aloud. ‘Anyone in their right mind would know that was untrue.’
He shrugged.
‘Is that it?’
‘Nearly. The other condition is that you, Miss Cowper, will remain within the confines of C4. No more little jaunts out to the mutant community. No more “roving reporter”. You will be a model citizen of this city.’ He gave her a cold smile. ‘Now, I find it hard to believe you would deny me these two small requests to ensure the safe release of your beloved father.’
‘I’ll agree if you will reciprocate with a request I have.’
‘Oh?’
‘The collar. It only stays on as long as you are still president. Once your tenure is over, the thing comes off. And I want it in writing. Signed.’
Tia was surprised when he held out a hand, which she stared at for a moment until it dawned on her what he meant.
‘You want to shake on it?’ she said, rolling her eyes in disbelief. ‘My word is considered to be a … what was it? Oh, yes, a paltry pledge, but my handshake is enough to seal my father’s release?’
‘Call me old-fashioned.’
She wanted to call him a whole lot of things, but old-fashioned was not on the list. Instead she bit her tongue and slipped her hand into his.
Rush
None of the three friends had any real idea how long they’d been on the train, but when it finally slowed to a halt and they got to their feet their muscles were stiff enough to elicit groans from each of them. As the doors slid open they stared around them at the other passengers, taking in the happy, excited faces, their expressions making Rush want to shout out a warning for everyone to stay on the train and get back to where they’d all come from, but he bit his lip and hung back with Jax and Brick, waiting for the main body of people to disembark before merging with the crowd.
A starkly different scene to the one they’d left behind
at the other end greeted them. There were no barked commands here, no black looks from the guards. Instead a woman’s warm voice drifted into the carriages from hidden speakers situated somewhere up on the curved walls all along the platform:
‘Welcome to Reservation One, your new and permanent home. Please disembark from the train and follow the green arrows. Your induction talk will commence in one hour.’
There was a short pause and then the message was repeated.
Despite their calculated delay, Rush, Jax and Brick were forced along the platform by the sheer number of people behind them, and there was little they could do but move along with the tide while taking the scene in. The number of guards was significantly less here, and those ARM agents who were in attendance stood at regular intervals along the platform, their sidearms holstered, answering the odd question directed at them. Although Rush could now see Jax and Brick as they really were, he knew how hard the albino was working to get inside the guards’ heads so that they only saw an older mutant boy escorting his two younger siblings. Because of this, Rush didn’t expect Jax to talk to him at all, but the trio had taken no more than four or five steps away from the train when his friend let out a hissing noise. Glancing round, Rush saw that Jax was glaring in the direction of the nearest ARM agents.
‘They know,’ Jax muttered when Rush asked him what was wrong.
‘Who? Who knows what?’
‘The ARM agents here. Look at the smug look on most of their faces. They’re not like the ones at disembarkation. They know what this place is and what’s supposed to happen here.’ His top lip curled in disgust.
Rush stared at the man whose thoughts his friend had just tapped into. The ARM agent was smiling and nodding at an older couple as they made their way past him. When the Mutes’ little trolley got caught in a grille set into the floor, the guard stepped forward to help them to free it, laughing and smiling at them, and giving them a friendly wave once they were again under way.
Rush felt his own anger threaten to boil over. ‘They’re all officers,’ he pointed out. ‘Look at their insignia.’
‘I’m guessing Melk feels he can only trust his most senior devotees to carry out this monstrous task. Perhaps he thought rank-and-file ARM agents wouldn’t be willing to go through with it.’ Jax shook his head. ‘We have to get out of this crowd.’
‘Why? If we stay with it, we’ll get a better idea of how Melk intends to do this thing.’
Jax shook his head. ‘This “induction talk” is simply a means of getting everyone together. Once that’s achieved, my guess is that there will be some kind of lockdown to keep it that way and we might not get a chance to find your black cylinder or the means by which it’s activated. We could all be dead by tonight.’
The crowd was moving relentlessly down the platform, a sea of mutants flowing in the direction of the bright arrows flashing from signs suspended over their heads. Rush and the others allowed themselves to be carried along by it to some extent, all the while edging out away from the train towards the fringes of the human tide. From here, a little way ahead of their current position, they spotted the small, unmarked door set into the wall between two supporting columns. With a nod to each other, they manoeuvred towards it, eliciting harsh words and hisses when they stopped in front of it.
‘Locked,’ Rush said, giving the handle a turn. He reached out with his mind, feeling his way through the mechanism and manipulating the tumblers and pins. There was an almost inaudible click! and the three slipped through, quickly closing the door behind them.
In front of them was a long, straight corridor, numerous doors leading off it on either side.
‘It’s a service way,’ Jax said, staring down the harshly lit passage. ‘It must lead out of here somehow.’ He took a deep breath and shared a grave look with his friends. ‘We have just under an hour. Whatever it takes, we have to find that cylinder and destroy it before then.’
‘Whatever it takes?’
The albino glanced down at the bag carrying the device. ‘I think we all got on that train knowing there was every chance we wouldn’t survive this trip, didn’t we?’ He paused, letting his words sink in. ‘It’s funny, but I keep wondering if Silas would have been able to figure out a better way of stopping this.’
‘And do you think he would? Is there a better way?’
‘I don’t know. All I do know is that if we fail in our mission, all of Muteville dies.’
They were halfway up the long corridor when Rush stopped, nodding towards a door on their left with a sign:
SECURITY. AUTHORISED PERSONNEL ONLY.
He was about to suggest they try to get inside, when Rush’s words caught in his throat as the door opened and the trio came face to face with a burly guard who looked every bit as startled to find them there as they were him.
‘What are you doing here, Mutes?’ the man asked.
‘We got lost,’ Rush replied.
‘Then I suggest you turn yourselves round and go back the way you just came. Go through the door at the bottom and rejoin the rest of your –’
He didn’t get to say any more. At a nod from Jax, Brick hit the man on the jaw and he crumpled to the floor. When Rush looked over at his giant friend, the big man gave him a shrug. ‘Jax told me to do it,’ he whispered, and tapped his temple with a meaty finger. ‘In my head.’
‘He was alone in the room,’ Jax said, the certainty with which he announced this leaving Rush in no doubt that the albino had gleaned the information from the man before he’d been rendered unconscious. ‘Brick, would you be kind enough to drag our friend here inside with you? Oh, and close the door behind you – we don’t want any further surprises.’ He gestured for Rush to follow him, and the pair stepped through into the small dark space the man had emerged from. Having shoved the guard into the footwell beneath a desk, Brick joined them. There were nine screens set into the far wall, each relaying an image from a different camera. The top-left one showed the platform they had recently escaped. Mutants were still following each other and the green arrows, but the numbers were fewer now.
‘That must be where everyone is meant to gather,’ Rush said, pointing to the largest screen, in the centre. It showed a huge octagonal space that looked brand new and unused. Some of the early arrivals were already in there, craning their heads around in wonder. At the centre of the space was a tall tower-like structure with huge screens positioned on each side so everyone would be able to see, regardless of where they stood in the room. Currently being displayed were a series of images, each one blending into the next: a panoply of idyllic vignettes showing what life might be like on the reserve.
Except there would be no life on the reserve, Rush thought. Only death.
He waved his hand to activate the control panel set into the desk, and a screen floated into view before them, nine squares controlling the feeds to each of the screens on the far wall. He selected the central one and was rewarded with a series of options that appeared to allow him control of the cameras.
‘Go down a bit,’ Jax said. ‘To the floor.’
‘What for?’ Rush asked, but did as his friend asked, moving the camera and zooming in.
‘The entire thing is a grate. Like a drain. And look, all about the edges? Those are hoses. To sluice away whatever is left over at the end.’
It was only as the albino uttered these words that the full significance of this set-up dawned on the younger boy. And the realisation made him feel sick to the stomach. This was the killing floor. This was where Melk intended to wipe out the inhabitants of Muteville once and for all. He’d activate the nanobots and let them turn everyone inside that place into a bloody soup. And once that was done, his goons would simply hose down the gory remains, ready for the next batch. A shiver ran through him. He quickly went back to the controls, zooming back out and panning until he found what he was looking for. It was at the top of the central structure, and anyone might have been forgiven for thinking it was merely a part of that edifi
ce. But not Rush; he’d seen it before. Jax and Brick clearly spotted it at the same time, because neither said anything for what seemed an age.
‘Is there a way to get to it?’ Jax asked.
‘There,’ Rush said, moving the camera again and pointing it at a large gantry high up over the floor of Melk’s abattoir. At one end of the suspended walkway was a brightly lit, glass-walled room. ‘That has to be the control point. We have to get up there and destroy that thing before Melk has a chance to switch it on.’ He was already reviewing the images on the other screens. ‘Look.’ He pointed to the image being relayed from camera 7. ‘That skywalk – it has guards halfway across.’
‘It’s also only half there.’
Rush saw what his friend meant. The section of walkway between the guards and the control room was missing – there was no way across.
It took them a few minutes more of studying views from various cameras before they were certain they knew how to gain access to that space. Then, after securing and gagging the still-unconscious guard, they hurriedly made their way out of the room.
Tia
It was clear to Tia that it wasn’t just her father’s physical appearance that had drastically altered during his incarceration. He seemed mentally cowed too, reluctant to talk to her about anything that had happened to him during their spell apart. Back at their apartment, the first thing she’d done was get their housekeeper to fix them both some decent food, which the pair had devoured almost as soon as it had been placed before them. She’d given the woman the rest of the day off.