Elite (Citizen Saga, Book 1)

by Claire, Nicola

  I went to storm across the room and demand she be taken from here and dropped off in the middle of Broadway near the Cardinals' hub, when she reached up and slipped her fingers inside the collar of her dress. Into her bra.

  I stilled. The room fell deathly silent.

  And she said, pulling a flash-drive from beneath her clothing, "I propose a trade. These codes for an identity scrubbing."

  Oh, this had to be a trick. Why the hell would she want to be Selena Carstairs again? It wouldn't solve a damn thing.

  "Do we have a deal?" she asked, running the thumb-drive through her fingers like a card sharp.

  "Oh, yes, little zebra," I replied, uncaring that the room had frozen at my familiar and admittedly too cute moniker for her. "We've got a deal."

  It was the first time in days that I'd acted as I was supposed to. Ruthless. Hardened. A true revolutionary leader putting the good of all before himself.

  I should have been elated; I'd broken her spell.

  But all I could think as she swallowed obviously, doubt and uncertainty flashing in her eyes, is that I'd just made the biggest mistake of my life.

  And I was going to very much regret it.

  Chapter 26

  He Knew

  Lena

  This was not how it was supposed to go. But I couldn't stand here any longer. In front of the people who'd brought my father his death. I'd thought I could. I'd been wrong. Even whatever strange and inexplicable thing it was that Trent and I shared couldn't override my desperate desire to get out of here.

  But I couldn't revive Selena Carstairs. I knew that now. I couldn't go back to that life. I needed Lena Carr, and Wáikěiton, and a world so far removed from who I had been that even Wang Chao couldn't find me, despite having already visited there.

  I looked toward the long haired guy in front of the vid-screens, instinctively knowing he was the one Harjeet had referred me to.

  "Simon Richards, I presume," I said, holding his surprised stare. He nodded, then flicked uncertain eyes towards Trent.

  I couldn't look at Trent. He saw too much when he stared into my eyes. I had to stay strong.

  "How good are you at scrubbing?" I asked.

  "Good," he replied, and then swallowed. His Adam's apple bobbing nervously in his throat.

  "This one will be tricky," I advised. "Already on the Cardinal radar. I need it cleaned enough for them," I paused, sucked in a deep breath and forced myself to say it, "for Cardinal Chew-wen Wang Chao to be convinced she was the wrong person all along. Can you do that?"

  "You're General Chew-wen's god-daughter," he replied, looking completely flummoxed. "How the hell do you think I can convince his son that you don't exist?"

  I smiled and watched his eyes widen.

  "It's not Selena Carstairs I need scrubbed."

  "Then who?" Trent demanded from over my shoulder. I still refused to turn around.

  "I need to know you can do it, before I divulge that name," I said, directing my words to Simon Richards.

  "I could do it," he said slowly, eyes over my shoulder, obviously holding Trent's gaze.

  "Everyone out," Trent said in a low, dangerous voice.

  The room evaporated down to just Simon in front of the vid-screens, the guy at the back of the room with headphones on, which didn't fool me at all - he could hear every single word spoken - and Trent and myself.

  I felt his heat before I saw him. Appearing at my side and purposely placing himself within my personal space. The need to step away was crushing. But I raised my eyes to his and held my ground.

  "What name?" he asked me, unaffected by my actions.

  This was it. Why I was here. I looked down at the flash-drive in my hand, turning it over.

  "What are the codes for?" I asked, stalling.

  "Is it relevant?" Trent replied. "You're giving them away. Trading them."

  "You must want them greatly," I commented. "You went to a lot of trouble."

  "Do you think that's the only reason why I met with you?"

  "Yes, of course."

  He chuckled. Shook his head and stared off into space, as though remembering something.

  "Bring up the video footage of Wántel, Si," he finally said.

  I was completely caught off guard when an image of me flying off the top of Arthur Chen's Wántel building filled the main vid-screen. Just what the hell was this about? I didn't dare look at Trent, but I could tell his eyes were on me and not the video playing; as I swan-dived off the high-rise, flight-suit fully engaged. The landing on the lower Káitech Industries building wasn't my best, but it paled in comparison to the disaster that was my impromptu somersault from there when Alan landed at my back.

  For a second or two time seemed to stop, as it was clear I was barely in control and plummeting fast. I held my breath, even though I knew I came out of the free fall alive, if somewhat battered. But still, it was something to witness. Bizarrely like a ballet through the rain and night's heated air.

  When I clipped my shoulder up on the screen, I swear I felt the injury all over again. I rubbed absently at my arm as I frowned in consternation at the footage being played. My wings engaged after a heart stopping few seconds of unconsciousness and even though there was no sound accompanying the video I was sure I heard the scream.

  Then the landing. An embarrassing blush stole up my cheeks, heating my skin to scorching. Humiliation flooded me at just how terrible that moment was. But it was soon replaced with a small smile when I remembered looking up into the night sky, rain pelting down on top of me, crouching on that rooftop as though I hadn't just escaped death itself.

  The footage stopped and no one said a single word. Why did Trent want me to see this?

  "It wasn't my most impressive effort, I must admit," I said into the silence.

  "Don't you see?" Trent whispered. "You're everything good about this city. Or everything Wánměi wants to be."

  I turned finally to face him, unsure just what it was I would see. He was still, so statue still, as though afraid to move an inch and make me retreat. His eyes held mine, the deep blue getting deeper by the second. His mouth pressed in a thin line; I had the impression it was to stop himself from saying anything else. I wondered if he regretted his words.

  "I am Elite," I reminded him. I was nothing that this city should be.

  "Lena," he said in that soft voice he had started to use with me. "You're wrong. You walk amongst the Citizens of Wáikěiton as though you know them."

  He'd picked that up? I thought I'd hidden it well.

  "You spurn your rations," he went on. "Which means you've been taking replicas for a while, so know the black market as well as the high streets. You speak all our languages fluently; I could hardly pick up an accent with your Wáitaměi. You break rules as though you have to, as though it's part of who you've become. You jump off sky-rise buildings, break into secured facilities. I don't know what you do with the money you make from your... acquisitions, but I'm guessing it's not give it to Chew-wen. Your Shiloh unit goes on and offline at will and isn't detected. You stole something we'd been after for two months. Right out from under our nose." He took a breath, sighed and then added in a low voice, "You tried to sacrifice yourself for me."

  I could feel the stares from Simon and the guy at the back of the room, as though they hadn't been aware of our Rahroh Tohah track confrontation. I couldn't look at them to see their expressions, though. I was too busy being sucked into Trent's deep, mesmerising blue.

  "It seemed the right thing to do," I managed, and he burst out laughing, making the two guys suck in surprised breaths of air. Had they never heard him laugh before?

  "The right thing to do," he murmured, still chuckling. "Do you do that often?"

  "I'm Elite," I repeated. "It's what model Citizens are meant to do."

  He stopped laughing and looked right at me. Too intense, I couldn't hold his stare this time and looked away.

  "Is it what you do, Lena?" he asked carefully.

&n
bsp; "Not all the time. I'm not a very good model Citizen," I admitted.

  "I know," he replied as though it was old news. "And that's why you're exactly what Wánměi needs. What we need."

  Not what I need.

  I lifted my eyes and flicked a glance towards him, trying not to get sucked in too deeply. It was impossible to avoid. Trent had me trapped and I wasn't sure how he'd accomplished it. I wasn't sure I wanted to fight back.

  "You could do so much if you joined us," he pressed, leaning closer as though he wanted to step into my space but was restraining himself.

  "I'm not a revolutionary," I pointed out.

  "You're not? Could have fooled me."

  A beep sounded out in front of Simon interrupting Trent's and my staring match; him as lost to the moment as me.

  "Incoming message from Harjeet," Simon announced, making my heartbeat speed up and my attention snap to the screen.

  Trent moved forward, but not to block my view or order Simon to hide the message until I left the room. He simply came alongside me, giving in to the earlier urge, as though feeling my apprehension and wanting to offer what comfort he could.

  I didn't understand him. He was clearly attracted to me, but also fiercely protective of those in his team. The way he had looked earlier, though, when he'd agreed to the deal I'd set out, I was sure he was ready to use me and be done with me.

  And then the video footage came out and everything flipped one-eighty again. I couldn't make him out, but worse still, I couldn't make out how that made me feel.

  "Trouble at the Palace. Cardinals called in from the fringes," Trent read. "What does that mean?"

  "God knows, Harjeet always talks in code," Simon said.

  "Or famous quotes," I added and both men flicked amused glances towards me, but didn't correct the statement.

  I hadn't missed the obvious, though. The fact that Harjeet worked for the revolutionaries. Had Zhang Yong? Did Aiko and Tan? Any of my other contacts used to sell my acquisitions, as Trent had called them?

  I suddenly wondered if I'd been walking with blinkers on. If I'd been as complacent as a ration dosed Citizen. It made me feel a little ill.

  "At least it'll reduce the numbers in the suburbs," Trent mused.

  "The numbers of what?" I asked.

  "Drones."

  I stared at him for a second, feeling a sense of clarity fold around me and squeeze tight. For a moment breathing was difficult. I'd noticed the increase in Cardinal drones, but it had taken a near death experience at a Rap-Trans station to bring home just how many had suddenly appeared on the streets. It couldn't have had anything to do with the celebration, Chew-wen had never increased numbers like this in the past. So why? What was the trigger? What was the Overseers' endgame?

  And did the revolutionaries know?

  I didn't get a chance to voice that question, because Simon suddenly said, "Another message."

  Both Trent and I moved closer to view the screen.

  "Celebration moved forward to tomorrow," Simon read aloud. "Now why would the General move such a significant event by one whole week?"

  Trent turned towards me, his eyes an intense deep blue.

  "He's looking for Lena," he said quietly. "Be prepared," he warned. "This is only the first act."

  First act? What exactly did Trent suspect?

  And then an image flashed on the screen. It looked like a news report. I couldn't tell if it came from Harjeet or if Simon had just surfed to Wánměi's main info channel. I couldn't think. I couldn't reason. I couldn't breathe.

  It's not that it was overtly ominous, or that something nefarious was obviously displayed - Trent and Simon weren't even overly affected - but it was personal.

  To me.

  And Trent had been right. General Chew-wen was speaking directly to me.

  He stood in the video clip, the presenter offering a voice-over announcing the change to Wánměi's annual celebration date, as he smiled for the cameras, waved his free hand, and looked the epitome of fatherly love.

  And as his other hand clutched that of my dearest friend.

  Aiko looked stunned. Scared. Desperately unsure of what to do. Tears glistened on her long black eyelashes, a bruise was masked by her make-up, but still obvious on her tanned left cheek. Her bottom lip trembled ever so slightly.

  I made a sound. It was pained, agony personified. I reached out a hand to steady myself, to stop from collapsing where I stood, and found Trent. Clasping back, gripping my fingers, his other arm already wrapped around my body, holding me up.

  Aiko. Oh, no Aiko.

  He knew. General Chew-wen was calling me home.

  And I'd come running.

  He knew.

  Chapter 27

  And I Only Had Myself To Blame

  Trent

  "Who is she?" I asked, but Lena wasn't capable of talking.

  It surprised me how the fear I saw in her eyes made me feel.

  Desperate.

  I wanted to comfort her, but if this was what I suspected - a friend held at the mercy of that madman to get to Lena - then there was little I could do to assuage the terror. I was well aware of what Chew-wen could do.

  How had she survived him for so long?

  I glanced back at the image, catching one final look at the woman on the Chief Overseer's arm before Si killed the feed, trying in his own way to protect Lena. She was beautiful. In that utterly perfect, made-up to please, way. If I didn't know better I'd think she was a courtesan. My eyes darted back down to the woman clinging to my frame and I tried to see if Lena fit that bill.

  Is that how she survived?

  A rumble of anger spread through my chest. The thought of Lena doing that made me mad. I purposely didn't spend any effort on trying to figure out why I reacted so viscerally to that notion, I was in enough trouble as it was.

  I helped Lena into a chair Kevin had hurriedly brought over. Then held the glass of water Si had provided out to her. In different circumstances I'd be amused. My entire inner circle was enchanted with this woman. All we needed was Alan and we'd be set.

  I sighed, as Lena dutifully sipped from the glass, a tiny tear trickling down her porcelain cheek.

  "Get Alan in here," I instructed Si. If anyone knew who the courtesan on Chew-wen's arm was, it would be him. And sadly, I didn't trust Lena to tell me the honest truth. She'd protect this woman with her dying breath. I could tell. I recognised that conviction I could see on her face. I saw it on Kikri's when he looked at his sister.

  The woman wasn't Lena's sister, I knew that. But blood does not a sibling make.

  A few minutes later Alan strolled into the tech room, having been replaced by the Mahiah twins at the front door.

  "What's up, boss?" he asked, flicking intelligent and assessing eyes over Lena, then the room at large, noting the lack of people besides us.

  Alan took in everything at once, he prided himself on his ability to sum up a situation in two seconds flat. No wonder he was so peeved at being bettered by Lena at Wántel. He hadn't even known she was there until he'd opened Chen's office door.

  "Do you recognise this woman?" I asked, waving a hand at Si for him to bring up the image again.

  Si used a smaller screen, one that wouldn't slam the picture of her friend in Lena's face. A courtesy she hadn't yet earned, but my tech whiz automatically gave. And it had nothing to do with her being Elite.

  "Aiko Tan," he said and Lena jerked. So hard, I thought she'd fall off the chair. As it is, water sloshed over the side of her glass and I had to reach for it, before it smashed to the floor at her feet.

  "How do you know her?" I pushed, reluctantly taking my eyes off Lena's shell-shocked face to see the expression on Alan's.

  He blushed. Which was perhaps the greatest surprise of the day. Alan Ng did not embarrass easily.

  I raised two very interested eyebrows at him. He cleared his throat before he spoke.

  "Spent a memorable night and day in her bed last month," he finally declared.r />
  "So she is a courtesan," I confirmed. He nodded his head, then scratched at the back of his neck looking away.

  Everyone knew Alan frequented the brothels, but for some reason this particular engagement meant something to him. His eyes darted back to the screen and he walked, as though on auto pilot, closer.

  "What's she doing with Chew-wen?" he asked, fists beginning to ball as the repercussions of what he was seeing started to sink in.

  Lena had again bettered him; he'd not been as observant as quickly as usual.

  "At a guess, she was hired," I offered, my eyes back on Lena now to see her response.

  "She wouldn't work for him," Alan argued over my shoulder, rather loudly I thought. "She's Citizen through and through."

  Lena lifted emotion-filled eyes to the screen, purposely avoiding looking at me, I think.

  But still she said nothing.

  I contained my sigh of disappointment, but did what I had to do.

  "Lena knows her," I said, and you could have heard a pin drop.

  Her eyes flicked to mine and held, as Alan said, "What the fuck?" Then appeared at my side, looming over the Elite.

  "Easy," I warned, not breaking eye contact with Lena. "Why don't you tell us all about it?" I asked her instead.

  She lifted her chin defiantly, her eyes losing all the fear of before and turning chilled.

  "What Aiko does is no one's business," she declared, the Elite back in her tone.

  It almost made me proud, for some reason.

  "But she's there because of you," Alan challenged.

  Lena slowly turned that frosty gaze on Alan, who growled low and took a step toward her. My arm came up halting his progress, but I was fascinated in the challenging growl Lena threw back at his face.

  Lioness.

  "So, what are you going to do about it, Elite?" Alan demanded, his voice rough with his rage.

  I watched as Lena's eyes returned to the screen, calculation and determination gracing her beautiful features. There was absolutely nothing complacent about this woman. She may be Elite, but she was every inch a Citizen of Wánměi.

  "I'm going after her, of course," she announced.