by TW Iain
“Not that bad, am I?”
She shrugged. “Who said it’s bad? Anyway, I reckon that’s worth a shot—get the Brothers to talk down the locals, diffuse the situation without violence.”
“Sounds good,” Irazette said, and there was a look of admiration in her eyes—not for Rodin, but for Vanya. Did she see the warrior as a role model? She could do far worse.
“Gorrin?” Paskia said. “Your thoughts.”
That struck Rodin—she was getting the buy-in of everyone, ensuring the whole team had a say. Good way to lead. Maybe she was right for this job.
Gorrin nodded. “Worth a shot. Don’t know if it’ll work, but won’t know unless we try, right? I mean, unless Rodin tries. And I reckon he speaks the same language as the Brothers, right? Common ground.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Rodin said, and was rewarded with a smile from the man.
“Uran?” Paskia tilted her head as she spoke to the technical expert—and again, Rodin saw her subtle play in this. She was well aware of the crush the lad had on her.
“Yeah,” he said, nodding far too much. “If it’ll stop Authority killing more people, it has to be good.”
“Always look for the peaceful solution,” Paskia said, bringing colour to Uran’s cheeks. Then she turned to Rodin. “Looks like we agree. You need more hard data?”
Rodin shook his head. “Got enough to go on. Always worth getting more, though.”
“Sure. We’ll do that. Right, team?” Paskia took in the nods from everyone. “And Vanya—you want to follow up with this old boss of yours, see if you can get us some support?”
“Can do. I’ll pester Genna too. Tell her Rodin’s trying to talk the Brothers out of a minor war. That should be enough to scare her into doing something.”
“And this from the one who was talking up my diplomatic style.”
But Rodin smiled. It was good to have a bit of banter. It was good to feel part of a team, each with their own roles but all pulling together. He had to admit, Paskia was doing a good job.
That didn’t dispel the churning in his stomach, though. Facing Authority, they couldn’t afford to settle for merely good. Vanya had been right, calling this situation a potential war.
And the last place Rodin wanted to be, even if it was beside Paskia, was in the middle of a war against Authority.
- 17 -
There were four lower levels to the Factory, containing fifty warriors and all the facilities they required. There were eleven other workers—five meditechs, a couple of trainers, a nutritionist, a pair of maintenance workers who also looked after weapons, and a tech. As Therick introduced them all, Cat stored their names, studied them with sideways glances and innocent-sounding questions. None of them gave him major cause for concern.
The whole area was well-organised, and the training tight. Records were thorough, with a methodical filing system. Cat had to admit he was impressed—the lower levels outclassed the bulk of the factory with ease.
This was worrying. It showed a clear hierarchy—the warriors were of more importance than the products—the other products—the Factory produced. And that meant the warriors were of more importance to Authority than anything else in this place.
Of course, the warriors were important resources. Authority had ploughed time and effort, along with funding, into their development, and they expected to see a return on their expenditure.
It was troubling, all the same. And if, as Cat was led to understand, other Factories around other Domes were also working on the warrior project, it was clear that Authority was creating a vast army. These warriors were living weapons, and Authority wouldn’t undertake something of this scale unless there was a very real purpose behind it.
There was always the murmur of threats from overseas, either by water or by air. Even in a couple of Domes, Cat had heard rumours—often from those outside the main thrust of society, but present all the same. Yet he also understood that there were defences already in place. He’d scoured archives, both through official access and through more suspect methods. He’d read about the automated barriers, the long-range sensors that shouldn’t be possible with the kind of systems existent in the Domes. He’d seen schematics of weapons, and had viewed ancient footage of testing, the quality flat and washed-out.
There was enough in place—at least, as far as Cat understood—to keep attackers from the shores. And so, there was no need for an army to drive them back into the water. Which meant…which meant the warriors were to be deployed for local reasons.
A weapon to use against the people of the country itself.
There had always been those who argued for the eradication of the districts, just as there were many arguments for their continual existence. Even over the last ten years Cat had felt the pendulum swing one way then the other, but never too far from the middle. Most people—at least, people who considered these arguments, who knew something of the reality of the districts and so knew what they were talking about—considered them a necessary evil, something to be loosely controlled rather than removed.
But what if Cat had read the signs wrong? Maybe Authority was preparing to wipe out the districts. It was possible, but without further data he pushed it to one side. Such a move felt too blunt for Authority.
Therick’s manner changed when they entered the lower levels. He was no longer so friendly to his workers, and was dismissive toward the warriors. In their mid-morning debrief, alone in the office adjoining their rooms, Iralla suggested this was from a combination of factors. He was fearful, she said, of the power of the warriors, very conscious that they could kill him with ease. But he also saw them as less than human, as just another product of the Factory—and there was no need to be friendly toward something that would one day be shipped out.
“So he suspects they’ll be called on for work elsewhere?” Cat asked.
“He must be cognisant of the possibility. How much that hinders his work is unclear.”
“But worth investigating.” Cat glanced down at the tight top she wore. “He appears taken by your attire today. Maybe he’ll talk more freely if I was otherwise engaged.”
That was a risky move, but Cat had read Iralla well. She smiled. “I had noticed. You have another avenue you wish to explore?”
Of course he did—but he had to be careful. “I’d like to gain a better understanding of the warriors’ training. So far, there’s been a distinct lack of weapons work in evidence.”
They continued with their tour of the lower levels, following Therick’s lead—both physically and in conversation—and then to a brief luncheon in a small office, one of the workers bringing in covered platters of food. Cat sat and reached down, massaging his ankle, digging his fingers between his sock and the tough material.
Iralla frowned, and Therick asked if anything was the matter.
“I should have worn these boots in more thoroughly,” Cat said. “It’s frustrating, as I never normally have issues with this make.”
“If you tell me your size, I’m certain I can obtain a new pair for you,” Therick said, keen to help.
Cat waved him away. “That would defeat the discomfort I’ve already experienced. No, the pain will serve as a reminder that none of us can claim to be perfect. But I appreciate the offer.”
After they’d eaten Iralla spoke to Therick and the meditechs while Cat concentrated on the trainers.
“The programs are all personalised, naturally,” the female trainer told him, in the manner of one who would rather be running the warriors through their paces. “We work as a team, and the tests run by the meditechs directly feeds into our programs. Kellor has automated some of the process, but we like to verify any changes personally.”
“That sounds sensible,” Cat said, and he made a mental note to speak to Kellor, the tech, later. “And you subdivide the training programs in a number of ways
, I see—cardio-vascular, development of muscle groups, various combat training programs. But I don’t see much in the way of weapons development.”
The woman nodded. “Our instructions were to focus on unarmed, but we’re pushing into weapons. Blades, obviously, as well as improvisation.”
“As in the demonstration earlier on.” And Cat had to admit that had been impressive, watching five warriors take part in a last-one-standing scenario, free to use any implements within the combat area. Even with the protective clothing they all wore, Cat had heard enough grunts to know that real injuries were sustained.
“They performed well.”
Performed—like they were automatons, or pets. Or animals.
“But you have an armoury within these levels, don’t you? I’d like to inspect that, if I may.”
It was large, next to a wide, long firing range that would provide a challenge to even the best shot. Eyes ran along the edges of the walls and ceiling, providing detailed analysis tools to work on individual shooters’ technique.
The armoury itself was well-stocked. As the trainer opened storage units, Cat saw just about every type of weapon he was familiar with, and a few he’d never seen before.
“Is there an inventory?” he asked, and the trainer brought him over to the small table by the door, woke the screen with her hand. With a few deft taps, she brought up a database.
“That’s impressive,” Cat said. “If I may, I’d like to take some time to digest this information. It will show splendid areas for future development—which will dove-tail into your expansion into weapons training. And I must admit there is some personal interest, too.” He smiled, and let his gaze drift admiringly over the open storage units.
He’d read the trainer well. She smiled, and a hand reached out to caress the closest gun—a G-43, an old model with a modified trigger and grip.
“It’s good to have someone here who appreciates the artistry of shooting,” she said. “You want me to leave you to it?”
Cat shrugged, eyes never quite leaving the database, fingers already swiping. “I can’t imagine it will be that exciting watching me salivate over the screen, but I wouldn’t like to think of you being reprimanded for leaving a guest alone.”
“It’s not a problem. You have deeper clearance than me, anyway.” She tilted her head as if daring him to contradict her. “If you have any problems, you can always call. Or signal to the Eye over the firing range door.”
“Of course. And thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
She left, and the door closed.
Cat looked up from the screen, glanced around, and satisfied himself that there were no obvious Eyes within the armoury, only in the range itself. Then he pulled out his personal screen and ran a scan in the background as he pulled up his report and entered a few thoughts.
He reached down to rub his ankle. There was no discomfort from his boots, but the pretence was important. He even managed a slight grimace as he felt the loose thread that would reveal the secret pouch where he’d hidden the chip.
Cat was finally alone, with access to a screen connected to the Factory’s system.
- 18 -
That evening, they shared a meal in Therick’s suite, the Factory owner, Cat and Iralla. Therick’s assistants attended, standing by the door when they weren’t serving food or clearing plates. The meal was a subdued affair, and in Cat’s opinion Iralla gained a twisted satisfaction from Therick’s shuffling as the man attempted a breezy nonchalance throughout.
“I realise you will require time to consider all you’ve seen and heard,” Therick said after they’d retired to the sofas. One of the assistants placed a coffee pot and cups on the low table. “But I wondered if you’ve reached any conclusions yet.”
Cat didn’t look to see if Iralla agreed before continuing. “There have been no reasons for concern in your output figures, and no reports of anything untoward,” he said. “Overall, our inspection confirms that this facility is running well. There will undoubtedly be one or two small areas where work is required—although we all strive for perfection, that can only ever be a goal, not a destination. Personally, I’d like to see the warriors’ training programs intensified, and there are a few small issues with living conditions for your workers, predominantly around the inconsistencies between the different levels—as you move workers around, this could well lead to unwelcome resentment. But your research program in the food level is intriguing, and I’m sure that will feature prominently in our report.”
The man half-closed his eyes and sighed.
“There is one more thing I’d raise,” Iralla said, as she accepted a cup from the assistant. “Not something that is necessarily in your direct control, and could well be argued is not a part of your remit, but is something that could impact production if it remains unchecked. I see from your expression you know what I refer to.”
Therick nodded. “The district. Yes, I’m very aware of the rise in incidences up there, but I have every confidence in our security. I’ve increased patrols in the area, although that is not without its own risks—I don’t want to become a known presence, for obvious reasons. I had considered utilising the warriors for this, though.” There was a questioning note in his tone, one that could be read as a request for permission.
“If it is framed as a suitable training exercise,” Cat said, “then that’s most sensible.”
“It’s still something we should consider in our inspection, though,” Iralla said. She placed her cup down. “I’d like to see the surrounding area for myself.”
That caught Cat by surprise. His cup was to his lips, and he held it there as if waiting for the surface layer to cool a fraction more. When he blinked, that could have been down to the steam.
“But won’t that be dangerous?” Therick said.
“Oh, my colleague here has experience of this kind of investigation. And, as he suggested, this could be an ideal opportunity to see what your warriors are capable of.”
That wasn’t quite what Cat had said, and he wasn’t pleased about her comments regarding his experience, especially the subtle tone of accusation in her voice.
He smiled. “It might take some planning, though.”
“But there’s no training going on right now, is there?” She tilted her head and frowned, as if trying to recall the schedules they’d both seen. “The trainers appear competent, so they should be able to put something in place before the morning.”
Was she testing the facility or Cat? This sudden shift in her was troubling indeed.
Therick looked from Cat to Iralla and back to Cat, a grin fixed on his face, a useless attempt to hide his confusion.
Cat nodded. “As with your techs nearer the start of our inspection, it is always instructive to observe actions rather than listen to descriptions of procedures. The skills of your trainers are vital to the success of your facility’s more clandestine operations, and so it makes perfect sense to test these individuals in more extreme situations. I’m sure you can appreciate that, Therick?”
“Yes. Absolutely, yes. And I have every confidence that my trainers will rise to the challenge.”
That was the second time he’d used the phrase ‘every confidence’ in a minute, and Cat had to wonder how much it actually meant. But he nodded, appearing to accept the man’s words.
“And I’m sure your trainers will select the appropriate warriors for the task,” Iralla said. She leaned back and brought her arms up, draped them over the back of the sofa. She’d unbuttoned her jacket during the meal, and the material of her top left a smooth plunge of skin open beneath her neck.
Therick nodded enthusiastically. “They know their warriors intimately,” he said, and colour rose to his face. “Not only their bodies but also their personalities and temperaments. But how many would you require to ensure your safety?”
“My colleague is more knowledgeable in such areas,” Iralla said, turning to Cat.
“I’d venture we’d only require the protection of a handful, possibly as few as a couple. If our purpose is to observe, we have no desire to draw attention to ourselves, do we?”
He watched Iralla closely but saw no hint of her motive. She simply nodded.
“You only require two warriors?” Therick asked—and Cat noticed that he deferred to Iralla over Cat.
“I’m sure you cannot fault my colleague’s logic,” Iralla said, reaching a hand across to brush the man’s knee. “The smaller our party, the less opportunity there will be for any unwanted incident.”
But her words were barbed, even if Therick missed her hidden meaning.
The districts were dangerous places, where anything could happen. And nothing happened without a reason.
- 19 -
This time, the Brothers kept Rodin waiting outside the gate for a full twenty minutes. He stood in the hazy morning sun—a few clouds building to the south, probably rain later—and faced the metal bars, all the time conscious of his surroundings, ready for an attack.
The two guards who finally opened the gate—they appeared from the right of the building again—stood aside, and the taller one waved his gun to the main door. By the time Rodin reached the top of the old stone steps the door was open, and he entered. A couple of guards waited inside, and after having him remove his weapons and jacket one of them pointed up the stairs. As he climbed, another couple appeared, and they escorted him to the same office as before. They took positions inside the room, either side of the door.
Rodin studied them. One male and one female—the previous two in the office had both been male. Was that sloppy, or did the Brothers trust all their guards equally? Both these specimens stared straight ahead, stood tall, guns at rest but in both hands. The female was shorter by a head, her downturned mouth distorting her face. His mouth was hidden by a beard that reached the top button of his jacket, and Rodin knew that would be a weakness in a fight.