by Mark Walden
‘Raven down,’ she reported. ‘Clear and stay on station.’
‘Roger,’ the pilot of the Shroud replied as the hatch whirred shut and the Shroud climbed silently to a holding altitude.
Raven checked her surroundings. The surveillance team had reported that her targets had entered the underground parking garage just a few minutes earlier. Targets, plural – that was why she was here. Double retrievals were unusual and difficult. She ran down the ramp and scanned the garage, her lenses instantly adjusting to compensate for the fluorescent strip lighting overhead. She heard the roar of a powerful engine from one of the lower floors and flattened herself against one of the support columns next to the exit ramp. She peered round the column’s edge just in time to see an expensive Italian sports car power-sliding round the corner at the far end of the garage. Raven took a deep breath and stepped out into the middle of the exit ramp.
The driver of the car instinctively swerved to avoid the black-clad figure that suddenly stepped out into the road in front of him. As the car shot past her Raven’s swords flashed and the front right wheel disintegrated. The car went out of control and drove straight into another vehicle parked beside the ramp with a crunch. Both the air bags in the car deployed with a bang and Raven ran for the driver’s door, pulling the Sleeper pistol from the holster on her thigh. The driver was halfway out of the car when there was a zapping sound and the Sleeper’s neural shock pulse dropped him unconscious to the floor.
Raven moved quickly round the car and saw that the passenger door was already open. Suddenly a girl with bright pink hair popped up from behind the car that the sports car had driven into. There was something in her hand. Raven twisted instinctively as there was a popping sound and two darts, trailing wires, shot from the object the girl was holding. The darts struck Raven in the shoulder, triggering the taser’s massive electrical discharge, sending Raven to her knees. She cursed under her breath in Russian as she fought to stay conscious, reaching slowly for the two wires that trailed from the darts embedded in her skin. Fighting to control her convulsing muscles she took a firm hold of the wires, gritted her teeth and pulled. The young girl watched in wide-eyed astonishment as Raven threw the darts to the ground and slowly got to her feet.
‘That hurt,’ Raven said, raising the Sleeper.
chapter four
Otto sat down next to Laura, placing his tray on the table. She was reading a book filled with circuit diagrams and technical schematics.
‘Any good jokes in that?’ Otto asked with a smile.
‘Oh yeah,’ Laura replied. ‘Intercontinental ballistic missile guidance systems are a real laugh fest.’
‘I can imagine,’ Otto said, sticking a fork into the food on his plate. The dining room was bustling with lunchtime activity. All around them students from each of H.I.V.E.’s streams were eating and chatting. It was one of the few times that the streams mixed like this but even now most of the tables arranged around the giant cavern were occupied by groups from just one stream. Nearby a group of Henchman students in their distinctive blue jumpsuits were sitting round a table having a noisy argument about exactly who had achieved the most kills in their latest holographic combat training session. Next to them was a table filled with students from the Science and Technology stream who were having a much quieter discussion about the differing properties of various forms of thermal shielding for reactor cores. They all wore white jumpsuits and would occasionally glance nervously at the Henchman students at the next table. Otto didn’t blame them for feeling slightly uncomfortable. The members of the Henchman stream were notorious for their constant bullying of students from the other groups. They had an unpleasant habit of picking on the SciTech students in particular or as they called them, ‘the nerd stream’. Otto sometimes wondered why Dr Nero tolerated the aggressive behaviour of the Henchman students. He supposed there had to be a reason – with Nero there seemed to always be a reason for everything.
‘I’ve been thinking about our plan,’ Otto said quietly. ‘I think we should do it sooner rather than later. I’m getting nervous about the special attention we’re getting from Dekker.’
‘Aye,’ Laura replied, ‘I know what you mean. If we’re going to do this we’d better do it before she puts us all under lockdown.’
‘I’m thinking tomorrow night,’ Otto said. ‘Do you think you’ll have finished the new code for the device by then?’
‘There’s just a couple of bugs to be worked out,’ Laura replied, glancing around to make sure that they were not being eavesdropped on. ‘We can’t risk hooking it up until we’re one hundred per cent sure that Big Blue won’t feel it.’
Big Blue was Laura’s affectionate nickname for H.I.V.E.mind. He was much more than just a piece of software, acting as he did as a digital guardian, protecting and securing the entire school. He had also become a friend to Otto and the others, saving all of their lives on more than one occasion.
‘Yeah, well, we wouldn’t have to be bothering with all of this if he’d just been a little bit more cooperative,’ Otto said.
‘Oh, come on, Otto, you didn’t really expect him to just give you the exam papers because you asked him nicely, did you?’
‘It was worth a try. He still owes me,’ Otto replied.
‘You know he can’t ignore a direct command from Nero,’ Laura said. ‘It’s not his fault.’
‘I know,’ Otto said with a sigh. ‘Now we’re just going to have to do it the hard way.’
‘I think it’s been more fun this way actually,’ Laura replied with a smile. ‘I’ve really enjoyed us working on the device together. I mean . . . the intellectual challenge of it . . . you know.’
‘Yeah, me too,’ Otto said. ‘It’s been fun doing it the old-fashioned way.’
‘What do you mean old fashioned?’ Laura said with mock indignation. ‘I’ll have you know that this is cutting-edge stuff we’ve been working on.’
‘Cutting edge for you maybe . . .’ Otto said with a grin.
‘Right, that’s it, no more soldering for you, my boy,’ Laura said, folding her arms and leaning back in her chair. ‘I’m revoking your tinkering privileges.’
‘I’m not interrupting anything, am I?’ a voice with an American accent asked from behind Otto.
Otto turned round and saw a tall boy with neatly trimmed brown hair standing behind him. His grey jumpsuit marked him out as a student from the Politics and Finance stream and the pips in his collar indicated that he was in his fifth year at the H.I.V.E. Otto had seen him around on occasion but he had no idea who he was.
‘Hi,’ the boy said with a smile, extending his hand. ‘I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Cole Harrington and you must be the infamous Otto Malpense. Mind if I join you?’
‘Actually we were just having a conversation,’ Otto said, glancing back at Laura.
‘It’s fine,’ Laura said, putting her book in her backpack and picking up her lunch tray. ‘I need to go and do some revision anyway. I’ll catch up with you later, Otto.’ She glanced over at Harrington who was sitting down in the seat opposite Otto and raised a quizzical eyebrow as she left.
‘It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person,’ Harrington said, still smiling. ‘I’ve heard a lot of stories about you.’
‘Most of them not true, I’m sure,’ Otto replied. There were comparatively few people at H.I.V.E. who really knew the precise details of the incidents that Otto had been involved in since his arrival at H.I.V.E. and so the rumour mill had filled in the blanks with little regard for accuracy. If Otto had actually done half of the things that he was supposed to have done then he would have either been expelled or executed long before now. Although, in fairness, at H.I.V.E. they were often essentially the same thing.
‘Maybe, but my sources tell me that you’re still a very useful person to know,’ Cole said, ‘especially with the exams coming up, if you know what I mean.’
‘I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about,’ Otto said, suddenly feeling
slightly uncomfortable.
‘Of course you don’t. Humour me for a moment though and just pretend that you do. Let’s just imagine that actually you have some sort of plan for getting hold of the exam questions. And then, having imagined that, let’s also imagine that there was someone who might be able to reward you handsomely for sharing that information with him. Can you imagine that, Otto?’
‘Oh, I have a very active imagination,’ Otto replied, ‘but what makes you think that I would be interested in sharing any such information with my new imaginary friend? It’s not like there’s anything he could offer that I really need. Not while I’m stuck here at least.’
‘That’s just where you’re wrong,’ Harrington said. ‘There are all sorts of ways that a person’s life at H.I.V.E. can be made easier.’ He paused for a moment, the previous friendly warmth in his expression suddenly vanishing, replaced by something much colder and harder. ‘Just as there are all sorts of ways that a person’s life at H.I.V.E. can be made much, much harder.’
‘Are you threatening me?’ Otto asked, looking Harrington straight in the eye.
‘Of course not,’ Harrington replied, the broad smile returning. ‘I’m just clarifying your options for you.’
‘Good,’ Otto replied, ‘because it would have been really, really stupid of you to threaten me.’
‘Is everything OK here?’ Wing asked as he approached the table and noticed the expression on Otto’s face.
‘Everything’s fine,’ Harrington said as he stood up. ‘We were just discussing a little business. Do let me know what you decide, Otto. I’m sure you’ll make the right decision.’
‘Who was that?’ Wing asked as he watched Harrington walk away.
‘A future President of the United States,’ Otto replied with a frown, ‘and just possibly a really big problem.’
Raven tightened the final strap on the stretcher, making sure that the unconscious boy lying on it was firmly secured. She checked the pulse on his neck and was pleased to feel that it was steady and strong. The Sleeper guns were designed to incapacitate their targets as safely as possible but she did not want to take any chances. She moved further along the Shroud’s passenger compartment and repeated the check on the young girl who had tasered her. She had a small bruise on her cheekbone from falling against the car when Raven had hit her with the Sleeper but nothing more serious than that. Raven had to admit to a grudging respect for the speed and accuracy of the girl’s shot with the taser. It wasn’t often that someone caught her by surprise like that.
Raven headed back to her seat and picked up the tablet displaying the latest reports from the retrieval teams. Everything seemed to be progressing smoothly. The vast majority of the operations had been completed successfully and there had only been a couple of minor injuries. Nero would be pleased. She placed the tablet back on the seat and climbed up the ladder to the Shroud’s flight deck. The two pilots sat in the darkened cockpit, the only illumination provided by the banks of video displays and hundreds of illuminated switches that lined the control panel in front of them.
‘How long until we’re back at H.I.V.E.?’ Raven asked.
‘Three hours,’ the pilot replied.
‘Good,’ Raven said. ‘Notify me when we’re five minutes out.’
‘Understood,’ the pilot replied with a nod.
Raven climbed back down to the lower deck and sat on one of the seats opposite the young girl. She looked like she was simply in a deep sleep, her chest rising and falling rhythmically, her expression peaceful. Raven watched her for a few minutes before she closed her eyes and leant back in her seat. She was too wired to sleep but she had taught herself over the years to use these moments of rest to clear her mind and centre herself. Normally it was easy but for some reason tonight she was finding it difficult. She could not shake off the image of the girl’s face from earlier that evening as she had pulled the trigger on the taser. Unafraid, determined, efficient. It reminded her of something, a place that she had tried very hard to forget over the years. Tonight though, for whatever reason, she could not stop the memories flooding back. Memories of the past. Memories of the Glasshouse . . .
eighteen years ago
‘Natalya,’ the boy whispered, urgently shaking the shoulder of the girl lying on the top of the steel-framed bunk. ‘Natalya, wake up!’
‘What is it, Tolya?’ Natalya groaned as she reluctantly opened her eyes. The boy standing next to her bed was looking round anxiously. They would both be punished if they were caught talking after lights out and she was already physically exhausted by the day’s training without adding punishment exercises on top of everything else.
‘It’s Dimitri, he’s gone,’ Tolya whispered.
‘What do you mean “gone”?’ Natalya asked, pushing herself up in her bed and looking down the dormitory that was only dimly lit by the watery moonlight pouring through the skylights far overhead.
‘I mean he’s gone, not here, vanished, what do you think I mean?’ Tolya said impatiently. ‘A noise woke me up and when I looked across at Dimitri’s bunk it was empty.’
‘If this is some kind of joke, Tolya, I’m telling you now that it’s not very funny,’ Natalya whispered, getting up out of her bunk. The pair of them crept through the room as quietly as they could. It was always cold in the dormitory and the plain cotton pyjamas that they wore did little to keep them warm now that they were out from under the heavy woollen blankets on their beds. They arrived at Dimitri’s bunk and sure enough, it was quite empty.
‘You checked the toilet?’ Natalya asked, nodding towards the door in the corner of the room.
‘No, I suppose he could be in there,’ Tolya replied.
‘Tolya, you idiot,’ Natalya said with a sigh, ‘if you’ve woken me up just because Dimitri needed a pee I am going to hurt you really quite badly.’
Natalya walked over to the door to the bathroom and looked inside.
‘Dimitri,’ she whispered, ‘are you in here?’ There was no reply. She walked down the long line of cubicle doors and checked that none were occupied.
‘See, he’s not here,’ Tolya said, sounding rather relieved.
‘Then where is he?’ Natalya said. ‘He can’t have just vanished into thin air.’
Suddenly something caught her eye.
‘What’s that?’ she asked, pointing into the gloom.
‘What?’ Tolya said, looking in the direction she indicated but seeing nothing.
Natalya walked over to the corner of the room and with a rush of excitement she realised what it was. Hanging down from one of the bracing girders that ran across the space below the skylights was a thin rope. Natalya tugged on the rope experimentally and found that it felt firmly attached.
‘Where’d that come from?’ Tolya asked.
‘The rope fairy must have left it,’ Natalya said.
‘What?’
‘It’s Dimitri, you idiot,’ Natalya said impatiently. ‘He must have found a way out.’
‘Up there?’ Tolya said with a look of disbelief.
‘Only one way to find out,’ Natalya said as she grabbed the rope and began to haul herself towards the ceiling. She stopped halfway up and looked down at Tolya who was standing at the bottom of the rope looking extremely nervous. ‘Come on,’ she said, ‘what are you afraid of?’
‘It’s not what I’m afraid of,’ Tolya muttered to himself as he grabbed the bottom of the rope, ‘it’s who.’
Natalya reached the top of the rope and hauled herself up on to the dusty girder. It was probably only ten metres to the concrete below but that seemed quite a long way down from up here. She could also see the rows of bunks on the other side of the partition wall that separated them from the toilets and she was glad to see that no one else seemed to have been woken by their creeping around. A few moments later Tolya pulled himself up on to the girder beside her.
‘Where did Dimitri manage to find a grapple?’ Tolya asked quietly as Natalya examined the hook that secured the r
ope to the girder. Natalya had no idea but then she rarely had any idea how Dimitri managed to get his hands on the things that he did. He had been one of the first friends she had made when she arrived at the Glasshouse two years ago and without him and Tolya, Natalya doubted that she would have survived the first six months. He was one of the few people she knew who had not had his spirit broken by this place and she loved him for it.
‘We can ask him when we find him, can’t we?’ Natalya said with a smile. ‘Look.’ She pointed over at one of the nearby skylights. The padlock that had secured it hung open and it was propped open, just a crack, with a thin piece of wood. Natalya crept carefully along the girder towards the skylight. She slid her fingers into the narrow gap and lifted it open very slowly as its old hinges creaked in protest.
‘Come on,’ Natalya said, as she stepped on to the roof outside, holding the skylight open for Tolya. He hesitated for a moment, looking uncertain. ‘This could be our chance to get out of here.’
‘OK,’ Tolya said with a slight shake of the head as he climbed out after her, ‘but I must be crazy.’
‘After two years in this place I think crazy is actually pretty normal,’ Natalya replied as she crouched down and crept over to the parapet that ran along the edge of the roof. She peered over the top of the dirty brickwork and down into the moonlit courtyard below. Everything seemed quiet. There were no signs of any unusual activity. Beyond the courtyard was the perimeter wall and she watched as the guards who were supposed to be patrolling it, stood sharing a cigarette and chatting. On the other side of the wall was another fence and beyond that many miles of frozen forest. They wouldn’t make it more than a couple of miles in the pyjamas they were wearing, so their first priority had to be finding warmer clothes. She knew that there was a storeroom on the east side of the courtyard that held just what they needed. Now all she had to do was figure out how to get down there.