Defender (Hive Mind Book 2)

by Janet Edwards

  “Other zones have been continuing to report new fuel rod failures,” said Melisande. “I intend to let the sequence complete, sort out the deadly embrace situation in Green Zone, and then rerun Operation Rainbow Cascade using the fully functional reserve fuel rods from storage.”

  “Since this has turned into a nosy publicity exercise, I suggest that Amber tells Power Controller Sajjad about the deadly embrace now,” said Lucas. “If she’s suitably cryptic about the issue of the faulty fuel rod, then it should create some interesting new myths about the mysterious powers of nosies.”

  “A good plan, Tactical Commander,” said Melisande. “I shall give no explanation of the faulty fuel rods at all, and let rumours run wild across the Hive.”

  Sajjad was looking expectantly at me. I wasn’t sure if I’d missed him asking a question or not. It didn’t matter if I had. Nosies often stood in silence without speaking.

  “Power Controller Sajjad, check your systems,” I said. “Your power supply nexus has a deadly embrace.”

  “What?” He shook his head. “That’s impossible. We’re still waiting for the power surges to die down, so we haven’t removed the old fuel rod yet, but we can’t have a deadly embrace. If two fuel rods were connected to the nexus at once, then the power would have already overloaded the buffering system.”

  “We protect the Hive,” I said. “We protect the loyal members of the Hive. Power Controller Sajjad, check your systems.”

  He gave me a bewildered look that turned to panic, ran to one of the wall displays, and started tapping at it. The calm green lights on it suddenly changed to flaring red. A second later, Sajjad’s magnified voice rang out across the power supply nexus.

  “We are in deadly embrace. Gareth must have sabotaged the links, so the old fuel rod hasn’t disconnected from the nexus. The nosy has somehow made the new fuel rod fail, so we haven’t had an overload yet, but we need to get that new fuel rod disconnected fast. Commence back out sequence now, while I report to the Gold Commander.”

  There was frantic activity around the nexus. A couple of minutes later, I heard a musical laugh from Melisande. “I’ve just had a somewhat hysterical Power Controller talking to me about a nosy and a deadly embrace. I told him that something mysterious had been happening throughout the entire cascade sequence, with every new fuel rod failing in turn.”

  She paused. “I’m not sure if the man thinks Amber made every new fuel rod fail by herself, or if he thinks this was a mass intervention by nosies across the Hive, but he’s sure that the nosies prevented a great disaster.”

  “Time for everyone to head back to the aircraft hangar,” said Lucas.

  I turned and left the power control centre, with my hasty squad following me. When we stopped outside gallery 1 to wait for the others, I closed my eyes and searched for Forge’s mind. I was worried how he’d feel about failing to save Gareth, but I found his thoughts untroubled by guilt.

  Forge had been faced with a simple choice. He could either prevent Gareth from jumping or save the man he’d thrown from the gallery. His own certainty about the right decision had been reinforced by the rule imprinted on his mind. If you ever had to choose between saving a destructive target and an innocent bystander, then you saved the faithful citizen of the Hive.

  I left Forge’s mind, and let my thoughts reach out across the power supply nexus for one last time. The minds there were filled with a mixture of awe and fear. Lucas was right. This had turned into the greatest nosy publicity exercise of all time.

  Gareth had made his choice between life and death. Forge had had to choose which man to save. Now I had to make a decision too. I could walk away knowing that I’d made the lies about the nosies stronger than ever, or I could go back into the power supply nexus, take off my mask, and shatter the myths forever by telling the people there the truth.

  I didn’t like the way the Hive lied to its citizens, making them believe that the patrolling nosies in their disturbing masks were telepaths, using that sham to deter everyone from committing crimes. I felt those lies were morally wrong, but right now I was deeply aware what could happen if people learned the truth about nosies.

  Mercury had learnt the truth. He’d started a fire that led to eight deaths including his own, and he’d intended it to be far worse. Everyone in that Security Unit was supposed to die. Rothan was supposed to die. Lucas was supposed to die.

  Mars had learnt the truth. He’d killed Fran and tried to blow up a power supply nexus. I’d no idea how many people would have died or been injured in the explosion, and how many more in accidents caused by the following power failure. There’d have been a host of incidents like the one where the hangar doors closed on Aerial seven, injuring Buzz, Kareem, and Hallie. The death toll could have been tens of thousands.

  The Hive was home to a hundred million people, all packed closely together and hugely vulnerable to attack. I had ethical doubts about the nosy myth, and the grey-masked figures had been the focus of my personal childhood nightmares, but the system worked. It saved lives.

  I opened my eyes, the Strike team gathered around me, and we headed back to the aircraft hangar. For a telepath like me, who felt the emotions of others as if they were her own, lives would always be more important than ethics, especially when they were the lives of people I loved.

  Chapter Forty

  Six days later, there was a vote on whether Olivia should be reset. Melisande, a few other Gold Command staff, the Telepath Unit Tactical Commanders, and all the other telepaths were included in that vote.

  I hated the idea of tampering with someone’s memory and identity, but I’d experienced what it was like to have Mercury entrenched in my mind. I could imagine how Olivia had suffered as more and more invading echoes moved into her head.

  So I’d voted in favour of the reset, because it seemed the only hope for the unhappy, tortured remains of Olivia. Lucas voted in favour as well. It was a secret ballot, so I didn’t know how the other telepaths had voted. None of them contacted me about it, and I felt it was too soon for me to try contacting Sapphire again.

  The majority voted in favour of the reset, so it was carried out that evening. Lucas and I spent the crucial few hours watching a random set of bookettes, but I couldn’t focus on any of the storylines. My mind was too busy picturing Olivia lying unconscious on a table, while an expert worked on the delicate process of unravelling eight years of her memory chain.

  The good would go along with the bad. Moments of tears and laughter, despair and hope, would all be wiped away. I realized I’d only been thinking of how a reset would affect Olivia, and not about the people who’d loved her.

  Olivia was losing all her memories since before Lottery. There’d be friends she’d made since then. There might be someone who cared about her the way Lucas cared about me. What were those people thinking this evening, knowing that all knowledge of them was being erased from her mind? I should have thought about that earlier, but if I had, then would it have changed my vote? Olivia’s friends, and the possible lover, would surely want what was best for her.

  The message finally came that the process was complete. Olivia would be allowed to wake up naturally. It would take time to establish two significant facts. Whether her personality was that of the old Olivia, or Jupiter, or someone entirely new. How her telepathic abilities had been affected by the reset.

  Lucas and I went to bed, and I slept surprisingly well, but I had another ordeal to face when I woke up. Fran’s memorial service was being held in a park on Level 20. I felt I should attend. I couldn’t have avoided firing Fran, and I wasn’t responsible for the decisions she’d made after leaving us, but my actions had set her on the path that led to her death.

  Lucas and Buzz chose to come along to support me. Buzz was still using a powered chair after her leg injury, and Forge said he’d accompany her to help if she had any problems. Nicole and Megan decided to join us as well. Nicole said it was her duty to represent the Liaison team, while Megan gave no expla
nation at all.

  I expected Adika to insist on me taking at least four bodyguards with me. I was startled when he announced he was coming himself, and bringing the entire Alpha Strike team as well. I suggested that was excessive protection, but Adika, worried by memories of our last trip to Level 20, remained adamant.

  So it was a large deputation that arrived in the memorial area of the park. We found it totally deserted. For a moment, I wondered if we’d come to the wrong place, but I couldn’t believe Lucas or Nicole would make such a basic mistake. Besides, there was a black podium at the centre of the grassy circle, and the flowers in the surrounding borders were all white, so this had to be the memorial area.

  A minute later, two people arrived and stood at a slight distance from us. One of them was Richar, the man who’d been friendly with Fran. The other was Mika, the incident coordinator for the Security Unit fire. I noticed Mika put her hand on Richar’s arm, with the nervous air of someone unused to making physical displays of affection. Richar looked down at her hand as if startled, but significantly didn’t move away.

  It seemed as if the Security Unit fire might have had one positive result in bringing these two together. I wondered if I should go over and say something to them. I’d never been to a memorial service before, so I didn’t know the correct behaviour.

  I’d just decided that I should leave talking to them until after the service, when a woman in a white robe arrived. She placed a large, silver-lidded cup on a special stand in front of the podium. I looked at it uneasily. That cup would contain Fran’s ashes.

  The woman went to stand at the podium. “We are gathered here for the memorial service for Fran 2489-1276-993. Records show that no petition has been lodged regarding the nature of this service. As a Law Enforcement Ministrant, I am permitted to authorize such petitions myself provided they are not of a nature disrespectful to the Hive. Does anyone wish to present a petition now?”

  She looked round hopefully. I had no idea what she was talking about. I cheated by briefly reading her mind.

  … no petition, no information, no contact from anyone at all. I like to make every service as comforting and fulfilling as possible for friends and family, but it’s hard to do that with no information about their religious preferences or …

  … decent number of attendees at least. I was afraid that no petition meant …

  … the large group has to be from the Telepath Unit where Fran worked. The records show the telepath fired Fran, so she won’t be here herself. Pity. I’d have been interested to see …

  … just have to do the standard service, with a few added details from her work record, unless …

  “Does anyone wish to speak during the service and share their special memories of Fran?”

  The Ministrant looked round at us again. I hastily stared down at the grass. I felt my memories of Fran were highly unsuitable for a memorial service.

  The Ministrant sighed. “In that case, I shall honour Fran with the standard Hiveist service.”

  She paused before speaking in a deeper, more solemn voice. “From the Hive we come.”

  I’d never been to a Hiveist service. Megan and several of the Alpha Strike team obviously had because they instantly responded. “To the Hive we will return.”

  Megan’s voice sounded oddly shaky. I glanced across at her, and was shocked to see she was crying. I hadn’t realized that she’d felt that level of affection for Fran. No, I was sure she hadn’t felt that level of affection for Fran. What was going on here?

  The mere thought of the question was enough to link me to Megan’s thoughts. She was crying because she was remembering her husband’s memorial service, and because her medical treatment yesterday had implanted her with the embryos of his twin children. She was moving on to begin a new life with Adika, but her husband would be part of that life too.

  The tears were happy not sad, so I left Megan’s mind. The Ministrant was talking about Fran’s life now, listing the positions she’d held and the many years of work she’d done for the Hive. I tried to think positive thoughts about Fran, but I kept remembering moments of petty spite, like the time I’d been praising Hannah and Fran had interrupted to scold her.

  Eli had seemed worryingly subdued on our way here, so I checked his thoughts next. I found he was brooding over his last counselling session with Buzz. They’d discussed the follow-up operation on his leg, and decided it would help if he talked to his surgeon. If Eli knew exactly why the operation was needed, what would be done, and how long it would take him to recover, then he’d feel more in control.

  The problem was that Eli hadn’t just developed a fear of surgery, but a fear of surgeons as well. The obvious solution would be for me to talk to his surgeon myself, and ask the questions that were troubling Eli.

  I moved on to Forge’s mind next, worried that the memorial service would be an unpleasant reminder of Gareth’s death. I found Forge wasn’t thinking of Gareth or Fran. Like Eli, his thoughts were centred on Buzz. Forge’s only previous relationship had been with Shanna on Teen Level, and she’d made it clear from the start that she demanded regular public displays of affection and commitment from him. Buzz wasn’t laying down any rules at all. It occurred to him that Shanna and Buzz were total opposites, both in appearance and character.

  The Ministrant had stepped down from the podium, and was looking expectantly round the group from our unit. “Who wishes to release Fran’s spirit so she can return to the Hive?”

  I pulled back into my own head, but avoided meeting her gaze. Nobody else moved or spoke. The Ministrant turned to look at Richar and Mika.

  “No!” Richar said the word in an explosive tone of rejection. “After the things she did, Fran’s spirit should not be allowed to return to the Hive. Cast her ashes Outside, so the hunter of souls can take her to join his demonic pack.”

  Shocked by Richar’s words, I instinctively checked his thoughts. He’d been told that Fran had conspired with the people who’d burnt the Security Unit, seriously injured him, and killed several of his colleagues. He was angry about that, but it was his bitterness over the birthday present that had brought him here today. He’d been stunned when Fran had handed it to him. No one had remembered his birthday in decades. The thought of a present, however trivial, had meant a huge amount to him, but Fran had just been manipulating him.

  Let Fran’s spirit know that I answer betrayal with betrayal.

  Mika had drawn her hand away from Richar’s arm, and was looking disgusted by such behaviour at a memorial service. Richar flushed, turned, and strode away. Fran’s bitterness against me had led to her death. Richar’s bitterness against Fran had just destroyed his fledgling relationship with Mika.

  I understood Richar’s feelings. I understood Mika’s feelings. The problem with reading the deeper levels of people’s minds, was that I sometimes understood and sympathized too much. The embarrassment on the Ministrant’s face sucked me into reading her thoughts.

  … the time when two men started fighting over who should release a woman’s spirit, the person who slipped off the podium and dropped the cup, but never anything as disastrous as …

  I moved forward to pick up the cup, and was rewarded by the wave of relief in the Ministrant’s mind. I saw the image in her thoughts of what to do, stepped onto the podium, opened the lid of the cup, and held it above my head.

  The Ministrant slipped her hand into the pocket of her robe, took out a small sphere, and pressed its button. I felt a sudden gust of wind from overhead that sent the ashes blowing across the park. When the park breeze went back to normal, I lowered the cup, handed it back to the Ministrant, and returned to my place at the front of my unit.

  The Ministrant scattered the last of the ashes among the flowerbeds, and turned to face us. “Fran’s spirit has returned to the Hive, as we all will return in time.”

  She hesitated a second, before turning and walking away. I got the impression that she’d normally wait in case anyone wanted to speak to h
er, but she felt that it was safer to let this ceremony end as fast as possible.

  “You didn’t have to release Fran’s spirit,” said Lucas.

  I shrugged. “If I hadn’t, then the Ministrant would have had to do it herself, and that would have been even more painfully embarrassing for everyone.”

  Lucas took his dataview from his pocket and tapped it. “The preliminary report on Olivia has arrived.”

  “Yes?”

  “They don’t want to stress her too much, so they’ve just done basic tests. The brain activity is similar but not totally identical to Olivia’s brain activity test during Lottery. The other tests suggest that Olivia is now only a borderline telepath.”

  Lucas sighed. “That’s an unfortunate result for the Hive. We know there’s a genetic factor involved in people becoming borderline telepaths. We hadn’t understood what makes someone move beyond that and develop into a true telepath, but now it seems as if individual personality could be important.”

  If Olivia was now only a borderline telepath, that was an unfortunate result for the Hive, but I felt it might be the best result for her. I pictured her as almost but not quite the same person as the girl who’d gone into Lottery, free to live without being troubled by the echoes of target minds.

  Lucas’s dataview gave an urgent chime. He stared at the screen and frowned. “Morton and his Beta Strike team are on an emergency run, and their target’s taken refuge deep inside the wave machinery on Level 67 beach. Morton can’t go clambering around in there, so his Tactical Commander is calling for emergency handover to another telepath.”

  “Tell them we’ll take it,” I said.

  “You’re sure? I know the funeral was difficult for you.”

  The life of a telepath involved dealing with an endless series of cases. Most were simple, some complex, while a few hit us with the totally unexpected. Fran’s case had been one of those. It had pushed both Lucas and me to the limit, but it was over now.