by Edge, T. C.
“Because I know, all right. You know what it's like, Link. You can tell when it's a vision.”
He nods his head without much conviction. “Mostly, but not always. Maybe you were just seeing what you wanted to see?”
Ellie is off the bed now, her eyes brightening. She comes towards me and leans down to my level, taking my hand. “You're shaking. Are you sure you know what you saw?”
I pull my hand away from her. Why won't they just believe me?
“Look, I know it sounds crazy....but I know what I saw. I saw him. It was him.”
Link and Ellie share concerned looks with each other, like two parents worried about their out of control daughter. Is that really how this looks? Do they really not believe what I'm saying?
“Cyra, I think you should go back and get some more sleep,” says Link. “It's still late, maybe you're not thinking straight.”
I shake my head. “No. I know what I saw!”
Now I'm standing, moving back past them towards the door. I hear them calling for me to stop, asking where I'm going, but don't listen.
As soon as the door slides shut behind me, I'm rushing once more. Back to the lift, down to the ground floor, and out of the main doors onto the street. Lights hum around me, glowing dimly as the city sleeps. A few lights are on inside buildings, rooms of early risers and those with duties that begin in the early hours. Yet the streets themselves are dead. No cars hover past. No snake-like trains glide overhead. No people hustle towards the perimeter wall, ready to descend into the belly of the city to begin another day's work.
But that's where I'm going. I rush forward, alone in the night, and under the huge opening into the wall. Inside, the trams are lying dormant, inactive until the morning rush begins. I move beneath the tracks and onto the other side. Then into the lift, hitting the button for Underwater 5, and down beneath the surging sea.
When I step out into the perimeter wall I'm standing in almost pitch darkness. The only glow comes from a few security lights set at points along the tram tracks. It doesn't bother me. I've walked this journey enough times to do it with my eyes closed, and the darkness has never troubled me.
I keep going, under the tracks, through the wall, and into the large passageway that wraps around the boundary of the level. I walk along it for a few moments before turning in, along the long corridor towards the Grid. In the distance, I can see the faint light of the door, several hundred feet away.
I'm still pacing, still rushing through the darkness. I reach the door and insert my arm into the scanner, which turns from red to blue before the door hisses open. Beyond, the Grid is still set out in stations. I move through them, past the various equipment we use for combat training and weapons training, and to the door at the end.
I knock hard when I reach it, my loud pounding disturbing the eerie silence of the huge hall. It takes no time for the door to open, Ajax's stark face staring back to me. He's so quick it's like he knew I was coming, as if he was out of bed and waiting by the door for me.
“What have you seen?” he asks quickly.
“Jackson. I've seen Jackson.”
He steps to the side and ushers me in, before closing the door. His room is as bare and empty as always.
“You haven't seen Knight's Wall?” he asks, guiding me towards a seat.
I shake my head. “No....I told you, I saw Jackson.”
“That can't be, Cyra. Are you sure it was a vision?”
“Yes, I'm sure. I saw him, wounded and lying on a mattress. He was being taken care of by a woman...and there was a man, sitting in the corner.”
“What man?”
“I don't know. A cloaked man. I couldn't see his face. Why does that matter anyway? Do you not hear what I'm saying?! I saw Jackson. He's alive!”
Ajax leans in close to me, staring into my eyes. I know how they must look. Longing and delirious, filled with the sight of the boy I loved.
“You can't have seen him, Cyra. He's dead. You saw it yourself.”
“But...maybe he didn't die! Maybe he survived.”
Ajax is still shaking his head, his voice calming but sensitive. “I know what you want to think, what you want to believe. But that explosion killed him, Cyra. What you saw must have been a dream.”
“But I know the difference! It felt real. It was real.”
“During times of emotional trauma we sometimes see things as we want them to be. Our mind wants something so powerfully that it manifests it. Those types of dreams can appear as real as a vision. They can be hard to tell apart. I know it's been hard for you, but you need to accept it and let go. It isn't doing you any good.”
“But I know what I saw...I know it wasn't a dream.”
“It was a dream, Cyra. Nothing else makes sense.”
I can't listen to this any more. Ajax, Ellie, Link; they're all just talking to me as if I'm a child. Looking at me as if I've gone mad. I stand and move back to the door.
“I'm sorry for wasting your time, Ajax,” I say, my tone sardonic. “I shouldn't have come down here.”
I can hear him apologising in the background, but don't wait around to listen to him. Maybe he's right. Maybe they're all right. That it was just a dream, that my mind is playing cruel tricks on me. But, even if it is, I'd hope for more support. Hope that they'd hear me out and not just dismiss me so quickly.
Later that day, I return for training. It's the last thing I want to do. I don't want to see Ellie or Link or Ajax. In fact, right now, Theo is the closest person I have to a friend.
They each come to me, of course, to apologise, but I just wave it off. Maybe I'm being immature, but I find it easier that day to ignore the lot of them. Right now, I don't care if they're just trying to look out for me. Right now, I just need them on my side. I need them to believe me.
Theo must have noticed me being a little off colour, because he asks me what's up that evening. I don't tell him. Frankly, I don't need another person telling me it's just a dream, and Theo doesn't even know about Jackson anyway. In any case, he's got enough on his own plate to worry about, without having to carry any more of my baggage.
For the next few nights my sleep is peppered with cracked images and broken forms. It's like seeing pictures, worn and creased and beginning to fade. They come throughout the night, forcing my eyes open each time. The face of Jackson, eyes closed, mouth fallen slightly open as he sleeps. His body, bandaged and stained with his own blood, lying on top of an old soiled mattress. A room, dingy and dim, its walls and ceiling crumbling, paint stripped from them and showing bare brick.
After several nights, those images form once more into a moving picture. I see the cloaked man again, sitting in the corner. I see Jackson, just as before, and the woman approach him to tend to his wounds. Once more I feel like I'm there. It's so real. Real sensations course through me. The warmth of the air. The smell of rot and decay. The flashing of the light on the ceiling as flies buzz around it.
I speak to Ajax about it once more but he spins the same record.
“They're still fragments of your dreams,” he tells me. “You're thinking about it so much now that your dreams are likely to be dominated by that thought, by that sight. He's dead, Cyra. You saw it yourself.”
By this point I've realised that talking to Ajax about it all is pointless. It seems as though he doesn't want it to be true. It's as if he'd prefer it if Jackson was dead, if only to make sure I keep my focus on developing my abilities. That's all he cares about really. Making sure we all develop into the best Watchers we can be. That's his duty, and little will deviate him from seeing it through.
But I can't let it rest. Not until I know the truth.
It's late that night when I slip out of bed in the darkness. It's silent in the room, the light breathing I usually hear from Theo absent for once. I guess he's sleeping peacefully, which works for me.
I carefully put on my clothes and move towards the door. When I open it, the light from the corridor outside once more spills into the r
oom.
“Where are you going?”
I freeze in the doorway and turn around. Theo's face is now fully illuminated by the bright light, his eyebrows dipped in a frown.
“It doesn't matter,” I say. “Go back to sleep and forget you saw me.”
“I was never asleep,” he says, sitting up. Once more, I see bruises strewn across his body. They're from more than just our training. “So what's going on?”
“I'm just...going for a walk,” I lie. I know he can see straight through me, but I don't care. I make a move to keep going, but once more his voice halts me in my tracks.
“I know about Jackson,” he says.
My interest is piqued. I turn around slowly.
“What do you know?”
“I heard Ellie and Link talking about you. They were saying you saw a boy called Jackson in your dreams. That he's supposed to be dead, but you think he's still alive...”
“Yeah, it's nothing...”
“I've heard you call his name in your sleep too. Like your mother. You cared about him, didn't you?”
“I care about him,” I say, correcting him. “He's still alive.”
“And you want to find out for sure? That's where you're going, isn't it?”
I don't answer. If I say anything, I might incriminate myself. For all the progress Theo and I have made, I still don't trust him not to go and act the snitch and tell on me.
“So, what's your plan exactly? How do you expect to find the truth?”
I still say nothing.
“Look, he was sent for service at the Divide on Knight's Wall, right?” He doesn't wait for me to nod. “Well then, they'll be a record of him in the military archives. All military personnel, previous and current, have records down on Underwater 2.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I've lived here my whole life. I've seen just about every corner of this city.”
“Even the restricted areas?”
He nods. “When your parents are on the Council, you get to see everything. Trust me, if there's a record of this Jackson, it'll be on Underwater 2.”
He stands now and moves towards me, pulling me back inside and checking up and down the corridor.
“Look, Cyra, you're never going to get access there without the right barcode.”
“Well, maybe I'll find someone with one and break in.”
Theo laughs. “Yeah, there's an easier way than that.”
Now I'm really interested. Sure, he may rat me out, but I've barely got anything to lose. “Like what?”
“A keycard for the level.”
I think of Anders and how he had a keycard to gain access to Underwater 4 so he could visit Amir. Ajax arranged that. Maybe he could do the same for me?
“And why are you telling me all of this? It could get you into trouble too.”
“Trouble?” he says. “Like I care. Anyway, I owe you, Cyra. For how I treated you before. If I do this, I'll feel a lot better about myself.”
“Do what?” I ask.
He smiles, a devious look spreading across his face. “Help you find out about Jackson.”
23 - The Archives
“Here it is,” says Theo, passing me the keycard. “It's activated to unlock the archives, or at least it used to be. Hopefully it will still work.”
“Hopefully?”
“Yeah, well, it hasn't been used in a few years. I had to do a project at school so had access for a while. If it doesn't work, I'm all out of ideas.”
“Well then, I guess it better work.”
I slip the keycard into my pocket and turn to the door. “Are you sure Eve isn't hearing all of this? Won't she report us to Ajax?”
Theo appears by my side. “I wouldn't worry about it. She's deactivated right now and won't be activated until we give her an order. She can hear nothing, trust me.”
“And down there? Down in the archives?”
“The same. Although she's not what we need to worry about.”
I look at Theo. “We?”
“Yeah, you're not going alone. Do you have any idea where to find the archives, let alone the information you need?”
“I guess not.”
“Well then, you need me don't you. Like I say, I've got a lot to make up.”
“Thanks Theo,” I say, but he just waves it off.
“Look, what we really have to worry about are the guards. There are always patrol guards down there, so we're going to have to get past them.”
“OK. So how do we do that?”
Theo turns and moves back towards his bed. He slips a couple of strange looking masks out of a bag and passes me one. It looks like a bland, semi transparent, face. No detail to the features. No colour.
“You want us to wear these?” I ask. “Seriously?”
Theo laughs. “Guess you've never seen one before. They're morph masks. Check this out.”
He puts the mask to his face, pressing the malleable material to his skin. Slowly, it begins clinging to his features, altering them slightly to change his appearance. His nose becomes a little thicker. His cheeks grow fatter. The dimple in his chin fills out. Within a few moments, he looks like a completely different person.
“So, how do I look?” he asks.
“Like you've just put on 30 lbs,” I say, laughing. “You look completely different!”
“Yeah, morph masks. Try yours.”
I hesitate a second before pressing the jelly-like mask to my face. Immediately I feel it sticking to my skin, feeling its way around my nose and mouth and eyes.
“Feels a bit weird, doesn't it?” asks Theo.
“I'll say. I feel like my face is covered in warm jelly.”
“You'll forget about it in a second.” I can tell he's trying to stifle a laugh. “Check yourself out in the mirror.”
I turn to the mirror and see a brand new reflection staring back at me. I've lost most of my colouring, my skin now pale and unblemished. My nose has grown round and bulbous, my lips thicker and fuller than before. Everything is that little larger, that little fatter and wider. It's not a particularly pretty look.
“So this is going to help us get past the guards?” I ask. “How does that work exactly?”
“No, this is purely as a back-up in case someone sees us. Trust me, people know my face around here and I don't want to be seen. And, you know, I kinda wanted to see you wearing one. You look great, by the way.”
I know he's mocking me, but it's not like before. There's nothing mean and malicious in it. It's more playful now.
“Right,” I say, still inspecting my ridiculous new look, “so how do we get past these guards?”
“Well, we're going to have to work that out when we get there. We might get lucky and find there's no one around. Or...”
“Or there might be dozens of guards blocking our way?”
“Well...yeah. Like I say, let's see when we get there.”
Looking like a brand new pair of people, we step out into the corridor, both dressed in black. It's dead of night once more, and neither of us expect to see anyone on our journey down towards the perimeter wall. As expected, we move through without disruption, reaching the lifts within only a few minutes.
Theo walks with a sort of sneak to his step. I can tell from the look in his eye that he's relishing this. There's a sparkle there, one which suggests breaking the rules and being mischievous is something he enjoys. I can't say I'm the same. All I want is to find out about Jackson. This is no game for me.
“Underwater 2 isn't like the levels you've seen so far,” Theo tells me as we go. “It's taller and more open. There are some huge spaces in there used for military training. Lots of military personnel live there too, so make sure you keep as quiet as possible and follow my lead.”
I'm starting to wonder just what I would have done had Theo not intervened the other night. He'd asked me my plan and I hadn't told him. Part of that was because I didn't really have one. I'd thought about trying to enter the military level,
but had little idea of what I'd do beyond that. Most likely I wouldn't have been able to get in or would have been caught snooping around and punished accordingly.
We pass under the tram tracks and head straight for the lifts, descending through the surface levels and down a couple of dozen feet below the waves to Underwater 2. Once more, I'm greeted with the sight of the familiar tram tracks and perimeter wall ahead of me. Beyond, however, I have little idea as to what to expect.
It's much lighter down here than it is on Underwater 5, even at this time. I suppose it's down to the fact that people are still on patrol here and live here too.
I begin to wonder exactly where these soldiers are recruited from. Most likely the mainland regions. Stands to reason why they're cooped up down here, just like the manual workers who live on Surface Level 8. No comfortable and modern living quarters for them. Just small rooms side by side along endless passages under the ocean. If I lived and worked down here, I'd go mad within a few weeks. Sometimes just spending the entire day down in the Grid makes my head start to spin.
Theo creeps out towards the tram tracks and I follow, descending beneath them and into the inner perimeter wall. As with the other levels, there are several large doors that head into the interior of the level. We move towards one and Theo tells me to insert the keycard above the slot where you'd usually insert your hand.
It's the moment of truth. If it doesn't work, we're done. For a moment the lock seems to hum, before the red light turns green and I hear a click. It does work.
The door slides up, exposing the interior. As soon as I see inside I understand what Theo was talking about. It's less claustrophobic here, more expansive and open. Ahead is a massive space, stretching as far as I can see into the blackness beyond. In it are hundreds of pieces of equipment and military hardware, stacks of bags and boxes all over the place.
“It looks like storage,” whispers Theo. “Last time I came here, this entire space was empty. Looks like they're stockpiling.”
We scan the environment ahead and see no sign of movement.
“Are there any cameras or anything?” I ask, checking the walls and ceiling.