Hex

by Rhiannon Lassiter

  The group had fragmented and Ali blamed it on the absence of Raven. Wraith and his sister had balanced each other, his private humanity providing a foil for her public ruthlessness. Together they had been the perfect leader. His caution and her daring had carried them through the raid on the lab, but having achieved that end the link had been lost. Ali suspected Raven would have disappeared anyway, whatever had happened; the presence of Revenge disturbed her on a level that made it difficult for her to remain. Unlike Wraith, she had never once called her sister by her old name, a tacit recognition of the change that had overtaken her. But the presence of Revenge was not the only reason for the fragmentation of the team. That had come inevitably with the sense of failure that had overtaken them all, once the media coverage had begun.

  The appearance of the lab records on every main vidchannel simultaneously had stunned the media as much as the general public, and reporters had been immediately dispatched to the alleged location of the CPS facility. The footage they had sent out had appeared within the hour on every major news channel, showing the gutted shell that had been the lab. But before the reporters could examine the wreckage the Security Services had arrived, with a government injunction, forcing the media to leave. The news channels had continued to speculate on the situation over the next day and their persistence had been rewarded with the announcement of an official investigation. The government had stubbornly refused to comment, and despite the inevitable comments from sources, it became clear that officialdom was stonewalling the media.

  The team had watched this from the relative safety of the squat with increasing frustration. Raven had regained consciousness after twelve hours and refused all offers of medical treatment to watch the vidscreen. But she was the first to turn away from the coverage, announcing that she was going to see the Countess and declining Kez’s company on the way. Finn and Jeeva had left shortly afterward, declaring that their part of the operation was over.

  Jeeva had wished them luck, but Finn had departed without a word, impatient to call an end to their association.

  Wraith had lost interest in the coverage in light of Revenge’s continuing vacancy. Luciel had done his best to explain what had happened to her and to assist Wraith in taking care of her. But the girl had retreated into her own mind. Her periods of lucidity were rare and came in the middle of incoherent ravings, so that Ali could never be certain at what point reality began for her. She had nightmares too, and after waking three nights in a row to the sound of banshee screaming, Ali’s own dreams were displaying the same maelstrom of insanity. Flames licked at her, while the screams rang on, sleeping and waking. She would have left too, but unlike Raven and Kez or even the gangers, she had nowhere to go. She and Luciel were trapped there by the simple fact that any of their old connections would refuse to aid them. As far as their parents were concerned, they were dead, and Ali reflected that the way things were going that was likely to come true before very much time had passed.

  • • •

  Wraith could hear the muted sound of the news channel, even through the closed door. He wished Ali would turn the thing off, but she had seemingly taken root in front of the screen and only removed her gaze with reluctance. At least her obsession with the coverage was preferable to her wandering around the squat, mournfully regarding all she saw as if she were interred in a tomb. Wraith sympathized with her situation, but he didn’t feel himself equal to handling it. It was difficult enough to come to terms with the fact that his long search for his sister was over, without the satisfaction of having really found the object of that search. Revenge was an entirely alien creature to him, and he could see little or nothing of what he had lost in the shadows of her haunted eyes.

  She was sleeping again, a natural sleep, if disturbed by the dreams that plagued her, and Wraith took the opportunity to check on Ali.

  “What’s happening?” he asked as he entered the room, gesturing at the scratched screen.

  “There’s going to be an official statement this evening, given by the Prime Minister, followed by an announcement by the Head of the Security Services. Most of the news channels are speculating on what they’ll say, some are rerunning the transmission from the lab, to see if they can detect any evidence of fraud.”

  “Has that been suggested?” Wraith asked.

  “There’s been a lot of claims that the data from the experiments and the pictures of the test subjects were fabricated by Hexes in an effort to gain public sympathy. But people don’t believe that explanation because the government claims that no Hex can get past the ever-vigilant CPS.” Ali’s voice was bitter, and Wraith couldn’t blame her. It hadn’t been that long since her own exposure as a Hex, and unlike Raven she hadn’t had time to come to terms with the revulsion in which mutants were held.

  If Raven were there she might have made it easier for Ali. Wraith was aware of the mutual antipathy between them, but nonetheless Raven might have been able to help Ali come to terms with her new identity as a member of the criminal underclasses. Perhaps she could even be taught how to use her Hex abilities to survive on the streets. Wraith found it difficult to imagine Ali as a hacker, but she hardly had an abundance of opportunities on offer. However, Raven had disappeared, and he didn’t know if she ever planned to return.

  • • •

  Kez crossed the bridge with care. This far down most of them were ruined. The essential base structure of the city was secure, but the government hadn’t spent money on the upkeep of areas inhabited primarily by criminals. The area where the squat was located was further down than the depths where Kez had spent his childhood. He rarely saw gangers, who hunted the poorer suburbs where pickings were better. Instead, the few people he saw wandering the deserted bridges and ruined plazas were society’s unwanted, those who had given up hope.

  He wandered on listlessly, wondering if this was where he belonged. He didn’t know what Wraith intended to do, whether he would go back to Denver or join up with the gangers here. Perhaps he would rely on Raven to provide sufficient credit for him to live in obscurity, taking care of Revenge. If that happened, Kez would have little choice but to return to the streets. He had effectively blocked out the memory of his former life; now he felt it returning to claim him. Everything depended on Raven. He was certain of it. Without her, the team was nothing. Her expertise, her ruthless exploitation of her abilities, had given them confidence in her as the main power of the group.

  Without realizing it, he had come to familiar territory. The building that loomed beside him was the one where the Countess had her base of operations, three levels up. That was where Raven had been headed when she left them. Kez studied it blankly, wondering if he dared. Then, deciding that he had nothing to lose, he began to climb the stairs that snaked around the skyscraper.

  The guards in the foyer looked up warily as Kez entered, and moved to block the door that led up to the Countess’s base of operations. Kez approached with equal caution, but the request he made when he reached them was unexpected.

  “I want to see Raven,” he stated.

  The guards looked at each other, then the woman frowned in consideration.

  “The hacker?” she asked.

  “Yeah, that’s her,” Kez confirmed. “I heard she was here.”

  “Wait,” the woman said coldly, and turned to speak into the vidcom, too quickly for Kez to make out her words. Finally she stepped back from the unit and gestured him forward. “State your name and business.”

  Kez didn’t know if Raven was at the other end of the vidcom or not. But he assumed that the message would be passed on to her and spoke as if she was there.

  “It’s Kez,” he said. “I need to talk to Raven. It’s important.”

  “Is it personal business?” an unfamiliar voice asked, and Kez nodded. “Wait there,” the voice responded and the vidcom clicked off.

  “You heard her,” the male guard told him. “You can wait over there.” He waved Kez away from the door and both guards resumed their
alert stance.

  Long minutes passed as Kez waited. There was no sign of Raven, and the guards were ignoring him. He wondered if he had made a mistake in coming here. But the compulsion to see Raven had been too strong for him to resist. One of the guards shifted and the motion drew Kez’s eyes to the open doorway just as a figure emerged from the shadows. Raven was dressed simply in black, her hair scraped back to reveal her pale face and the dark shadows under her obsidian eyes. She was wearing her duffel bag slung over one shoulder and carrying her long coat, and Kez let himself hope for the first time since the lab had burned to the ground.

  “Hey, Kez,” she said as he approached. “What’s up?”

  “Not much,” he admitted. “Everyone’s just . . .” He shrugged his shoulders, completing the thought with the gesture.

  “Fallen apart,” Raven concluded. For a moment a brief flicker of something passed across her face and was gone before Kez could identify it. “What did you expect?” She shrugged. “Did you think everyone would be on a high because we’d found Rachel? It’s not that easy, Kez. Wraith hasn’t won a war, or even a battle, whatever he might think.” She shook her head. “In the real world no one lives happily ever after; it’s hard enough just to keep living.” Kez said nothing and after a moment Raven adjusted the strap of her bag and began to walk off. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “Back to the squat?” Kez asked, falling into step with her.

  “For now,” Raven answered.

  • • •

  She had been following the news broadcasts when Kez arrived, listening to the speculation about the Prime Minister’s statement. Admittedly, that statement was probably already written and lying in some government database, safe from any but the most electric of hackers. But Raven hadn’t entered the net since the night of the raid. Her time had been spent with the data files she had extracted from the lab’s computer.

  The data on those disks had been collected from the results of sadistic experiments performed over more than fifty years, on thousands of children. But Raven had forgotten that as she read the files. She wanted to know what it meant to be a Hex, what the scientists had discovered. But she learned more about what they didn’t know than what they did. Raven had always known that she was unusual. She had known she was a Hex long before any government agency could have guessed and learned to use her talents before she really understood what they were. But, reading through the CPS’s files, she realized the flaw in their ruthless policy of exterminating mutants as soon as they were discovered. The test subjects had no idea what they were capable of and, consequently, neither did the scientists. Some of the research had yielded useful results, but most of it consisted of dead-end and blind alley projects, which seemed to miss the point entirely. Dr. Kalden’s team had never encountered anyone with abilities that came anywhere near to matching Raven’s; the virus they had constructed within their computer system to catch a Hex hacker had told her that. If she could evade the best defenses the lab had, at her age, a more experienced Hex ought to be able to do far more. Raven wondered if any more experienced Hexes even existed, then dismissed the question. The main concern was that she existed and as long as she continued to extend her skills they would surpass any possible expectation of the CPS researchers.

  Raven grinned silently. Her experience in the lab had been sobering. She’d never suffered the sensory overload of extended connection with the net before. But, once she had recovered from the experience, the realization that she was just as much of a threat to the CPS as they were to her had reassured her. She felt her confidence building as they approached the squat where the others waited, and her grin didn’t fade as Kez opened the door.

  • • •

  Ali glanced up idly as the door opened, and her eyes widened with shock as she saw who it was.

  “Raven!” Wraith said, affection and relief in his voice. “How are you?”

  “I’m chill,” Raven grinned at him. “I see you’ve made yourself comfortable,” she added, glancing ironically around the bare room. “Makes a change from the Belgravia Complex, doesn’t it?” This last was addressed to Ali, who blinked, uncertain whether it was intended to indicate malice or camaraderie. “Have you been watching the screen all this time?” Raven continued, dumping her bag and coat and seating herself against the wall.

  “Pretty much,” Ali admitted cautiously. “Wraith’s been looking after . . .” She hesitated and Raven finished for her:

  “Revenge.” She turned to look at Wraith. “Any improvement?”

  “No,” he stated flatly.

  “I didn’t expect there would be,” Raven replied.

  “I bet you don’t even care either,” Luciel stated from the corner of the room, where he had been sitting, virtually ignored. His voice was just as cool as Raven’s. “You didn’t even see the lab explode.”

  “I’ve seen the news reports,” Raven reminded him. “And I’m not flagellating myself with guilt. Tell me one thing we could have done that we didn’t,” she challenged. “Just one.”

  Luciel met her eyes for a long moment, but he didn’t speak. Raven held his gaze and then turned away toward the door of Revenge’s room. Wraith was the only one to follow her, and as they went inside, he shut the door behind them. Revenge was sleeping, her fragile body collapsed on the bed like a broken doll. Raven studied her for a while in silence until Wraith spoke.

  “Will she recover?”

  “You know the answer to that as well as I do,” Raven replied. Turning her back on Revenge she continued: “Was she worth it? Was finding Rachel that important to you?”

  “She wasn’t to you?” Wraith replied, his words half question, half statement.

  “As Luciel said, hundreds have died. Does the fate of one more Hex make any difference?”

  “If you care about hundreds, you have to care about one,” Wraith said quietly. “How much do you care, Raven?”

  Before Raven could answer him, they heard Ali calling and the sound of the vidscreen being turned up. Raven turned away to join the others and, after a few seconds, Wraith followed her to the next room where the coverage of the Prime Minister’s statement was beginning.

  “Tonight George Chesterton, the Prime Minister, will address the House to make a public statement on the recent allegations concerning the Center for Paranormal Studies, the UK body responsible for the elimination of defectives with the mutant Hex gene.”

  “Defectives?” Ali exclaimed and Luciel hushed her.

  “Get used to it,” Raven said dryly, not looking away from the screen.

  “. . . now we go live to the British Parliament, where Mr. Chesterton is about to make his official statement.”

  The scene shifted to the circular parliament building where a tall man with graying hair was regarding the house with an expression of severe authority.

  “Honorable and right honorable members, I come here tonight to quell the speculation concerning the integrity of this government and to speak out against acts of terrorism such as those inflicted upon the British people last week. The invasion of a CPS extermination facility, the fabrication of records from that facility, the publication of those records and eventual destruction of the facility concerned are all acts of astounding terrorism, perpetrated by a group of criminals sympathetic to the cause of illegal mutants. Rest assured these criminals will be caught. In the meantime I would like to state categorically that I have every confidence in Governor Charles Alverstead, the current head of the CPS, and in his operatives, including the head of the facility, who was hospitalized last night after injuries sustained during a valiant defense against the terrorists. His courage and heroism are an example to us all.”

  The Prime Minister seated himself to cheers from all over the house, and the news reporter broke in on the footage to state that a short announcement by the Head of the Security Services would follow. They all watched the screen in appalled fascination as the cheering continued in Parliament. Kez was the first to speak.

 
“They’re all in on it!” he exclaimed. “It’s all being covered up.”

  “Will the public fall for it?” Wraith asked, turning to Raven, but it was Ali who answered him.

  “I’m sure they will,” she said. “People will want to believe it. Everyone knows that Hexes are criminals and those pictures of the experiments were hard to take.” She swallowed. “Some people might doubt, but not enough of them to sway public opinion.”

  “She’s right,” Raven agreed. “I have a great deal of faith in human nature—they’ll believe it.”

  “Every word of it is a lie,” Luciel said, but no one replied. The uniformed figure of the Head of the Security Services had just appeared on the screen. He began his announcement without ceremony.

  “The Security Services have identified several of the participants in the raid on the CPS facility. Descriptions and artists’ impressions follow. If any citizen has been contacted by these people please inform the Security Services immediately. They are terrorists, known to be killers, and all are believed to be armed and dangerous.”

  Ali’s eyes widened in amazement as the screen filled with pictures and statistics.

  “Suspect One: Wraith, young male with prematurely white hair and gray eyes, about average height. Suspect Two: young male with dyed blue hair, and green eyes, believed to be of Irish descent. Suspect Three: Caucasian boy with blond hair and brown eyes. Suspect Four: Raven, young female, known to be a rogue Hex.”