Adam doesn’t seem to have noticed, though. He is in lecture-mode. Again.
‘The Families were constantly terrified of getting trapped in their own fortresses, in the event of an invasion. They always built in secret escape-passages. But the operative word was secret. If they were easy to find, they wouldn’t be a whole lot of use, now, would they?’
‘You’d think they’d’ve written down the location somewhere, though.’
‘They probably did, but the Citadel was built before the Fall. That’s a lot of years to hold on to things. Probably got lost over time. Or else they’re in Hartman’s private possession. Either way, there’s not much chance of our getting our hands on them.
‘In our Fortress, the passage was hidden behind a cupboard. All the cupboards on this level should back onto solid walls. Try tapping the back wall, and listen for a hollow sound. That’s how I found ours.’
Another hour of tapping, and Armin is about to give up.
‘Are you hungry?’ he asks, hopefully.
But Adam doesn’t answer. He has his head inside a cupboard deep in a corner of the room.
‘Listen,’ he says, and Armin can feel the excitement in him.
He taps again, and there is no doubt. A hollow drumming sound. He stands up straight, and looks back at Armin.
‘This is it, Min. We’ve found it.’
Two minutes later, they uncover the release mechanism and the cupboard swings silently away from the corner, revealing the entrance to a passage. Adam reaches into his bag and takes out a glo-light, slides open the cover and steps through into the darkness.
As the cupboard swings back into position, Armin feels the weight of the Citadel bearing down on him and for a moment panic swells in his throat. Adam hands him the second lamp, and the feeling subsides.
The passage is about two metres high and three across, a domed tunnel of smooth Plascrete. The sound of their footsteps echoes ahead of them, as they make their way north. At intervals, they come upon the entrances to other tunnels – four, in all.
‘We can check them out on the way back,’ Adam whispers. ‘But I’ll bet they all lead to other escape doors. When you’re building for survival, you don’t limit yourself to one option, just in case it’s blocked off.’
‘Why are we whispering?’ Armin looks pale in the glo-light, like a twelve-year-old ghost.
Adam shrugs. ‘No reason – seeing as I doubt that anyone’s been down here for centuries.’
They move along without talking further, until the passage begins to slope upwards.
Berra
Central Region
February 5, 3384ad
LEANA
The psychic shriek of fear tears through Leana’s mind, driving all thought before it. Wordless unfiltered emotion – a raw wave of incoherent feeling, powerful as instinct, intense as a knife to the brain.
A baby –
The notion has barely formed, when she hears the scream. A woman’s anguish, translated into sound, as the terror she is feeling overwhelms every other function.
‘No!’ she cries. ‘Leave her.’
Leana stops dead in the street, searching for the source of the distress.
She does not have far to look.
At the corner, a woman of maybe twenty is struggling to escape the grip of one of the Citadel soldiers, while a second soldier looks on, laughing.
‘Two for the price of one.’ The second soldier laughs, as he picks the baby up from a basket that the woman has dropped. ‘These Espers breed like rabbits. Do they pay the bonus if they can’t even talk?’
‘A catch is a catch. Even the sprats get to grow up – if you let them.’
The woman struggles again, and the first soldier hits her hard across the cheek with the back of his hand. She fights and he twists her arm cruelly behind her, then pulls her towards him, so that their faces are almost touching.
‘Feisty bitch.’
His hand is raised and he pauses to allow her a moment of fear, then he slaps her hard across the face and pushes her away with such force that she crashes against the wall, banging the side of her head on the corner of the brickwork with a sickening crack.
Leana lurches, as the pain explodes briefly, before shutting off with a sickening finality.
The young woman has slumped to the floor, her limbs limp, her eyes staring, blood seeping from a wound over her temple. There is no life in her. The thought-stream is empty.
Then the child screams again, as it experiences, for the first time in its short life, her total absence.
‘Idiot!’ the second soldier yells, pushing his companion hard with his free hand. ‘We don’t get the bonus if they’re dead. Check her pulse. Now!’
As the first soldier kneels beside her body, he places a finger on her neck. Then he looks up at his friend and shakes his head.
‘Shit!’ The second soldier stares daggers at him. ‘Shit! How we gonna explain this?’
The first one stands up and looks down at the woman’s body.
‘Resisting arrest. No big deal. Saves the cost of a spike.’
‘You owe me, Dog. That was half a month’s salary you just offed.’
‘Look, we still got the kid. It’s not a total—’
He never gets to finish the thought.
Swinging a half-brick that she has picked up from a rubble pile nearby, Leana connects with the side of his head, and he drops like a dead tree.
Her anger still at boiling point, she holds the makeshift weapon out in front of her, turning on the remaining soldier.
‘Put the baby down. NOW!’
He complies, but not through fear. He drops the basket at his feet and in the same motion, he straightens up and swings a clenched fist at her head with all his strength.
He has sadly underestimated her.
The years of Seeing for the Tribe have trained Leana’s reflexes to perfection and she had read his intention before he was aware of it himself. She sways backwards to avoid the blow and drives the half-brick down hard against his wrist, snapping the bone and sending a tidal wave of pain up through the nerves of his arm, to flood his brain and send him staggering backwards.
But he is not finished. He recovers his balance, reaches for his knife with his good hand and draws it from its sheath. With a practised flourish, he brings it up into a triple-threat position.
Again, he is one thought too slow.
In a single movement, Leana drops the brick, and grasps the silver-chased handle of her own knife. She avoids his thrust with a spinning motion, as her dagger slides free of its sheath, and continues its arc to slash his exposed throat.
Thomas has honed the blade to perfection. For a moment, there is no pain. The cut is so fine, there is hardly a line in the skin.
Then the first pulse drives the crimson flood out through the opening, and the pain hits with delayed vengeance.
He falls to his knees releasing a liquid scream and grabs for his throat to stop the flow, but it is too late. With every beat his heart pumps life from the breach and within seconds, he can feel the faintness rising like a tide.
The last image that passes through his brain, before it goes dark, is Leana’s face, staring down at him without pity. And the last sounds he hears are her words.
‘Even sprats grow up – Dog.’
‘Get her!’
The shout brings her back to herself, and she turns to see a squad of four or five soldiers running towards her – perhaps 20 metres away.
She grabs the basket and its precious cargo, and sprints down the street, sliding around a corner and into a narrow alleyway, not daring to look behind, as a bullet ricochets off the brickwork, showering her with dust.
She can read their thoughts as clearly as a shout. Anger, hatred – ugly revenge.
She is fit, but so are t
hey and they are not carrying her burden.
Rounding another corner, she finds herself in an unfamiliar street. It is almost deserted, and there is little cover. They are gaining on her and she is not sure that she can outrun them.
Then, as she passes another alley, a hand reaches out to stop her. She swings around, ready to strike, but the face that meets her belongs to a girl about her own age and the thoughts that she reads hold no threat.
‘In here, quick!’
She disappears into the alley, just moments before the soldiers burst into the street.
The girl holds open a small camouflaged trapdoor, and seeing the ramp, Leana hugs the basket to her chest, as she slides down. The girl is less than a second behind her, barely clearing the doorframe, as the trap slams shut.
Focusing on the soldiers’ thoughts, Leana watches through their eyes, as they stop at the entrance to the alley. A swift glance along its length and they move off down the street, watching for movement and checking all doorways.
Soon they are out of range and she breathes again.
The girl is staring at her, shaking her head.
‘You got nuts, girl. Got the moves, too. Y’ain’t from ’round here, are you?’
The words are accompanied by a wave of authentic admiration.
‘No.’ Leana tries to catch her breath. ‘Down South. Old Bourne.’
‘You’s a damn long way from home. They all as tough as you down there?’
Leana is beginning to feel the adrenalin rush subsiding and the reaction is setting in. She places the basket on the floor, and looks down at her hand. It is shaking uncontrollably.
‘Not so tough,’ she says, trying to smile.
‘Tough enough. Down two soldiers, rescue the kid, escape from the patrol—’
‘With a little help. Thank you, Gaia.’
The girl looks at her with surprise.
‘You know my name? How? Oh, shit, girl. You ain’t—’
‘Gifted? ’Fraid so. You save my life, you get to know my secret. Does it trouble you?’
Now, Gaia beams.
‘Hell, no, girl! Never met an Esper before, but.’
‘At least, not that you knew.’
‘True. And not one that tol’ me up front. ’S kinda cool.’
A quick reading of her thoughts confirms the truth in her words.
Leana studies her and the closer examination reveals that Gaia is younger than she at first appeared. Fifteen perhaps.
‘How did you know I’d be – you know – How did you know where to wait?’
‘You don’t reach puberty ’round here without some – survival skills. Saw your little stunt at the corner and cut down the alley. You was just lucky you didn’t turn right. Couldn’ta done a whole lot for ya, if y’d gone that way. Cute baby. What’s his name?’
‘Her name. And I don’t know. Never saw her, or her mother, before.’
‘But you risked your life to save her?’
‘What else could I do?’
‘You could do what everyone else in this sorry-arse excuse for a town’d do. Stand by and watch. Stay safe. Don’t rock the damn boat.’
‘Not everyone else. I didn’t see you standing by and watching.’
A slow, proud smile spreads over the young girl’s face.
‘That’s cause I’m “incorrigible”. Ask my father’s wife.’
‘Your mother?’
‘Not my mother. My mother was incorrigible too. At least that’s what the Guard thought, when they arrested her. She died in the cells and he remarried before she was cold.’
‘I’m sorry, Gaia.’
‘So’m I.’
The words run out, and they stand in silence.
The baby is still scared. Though she is quiet, she lies staring up at Leana and her thought-stream is a turmoil of emotions. Holding her gaze, Leana crouches down and slips gently inside, releasing a tide of calm and holding the child’s chaotic emotions at bay. Slowly, the waves of fear subside and the heaving surface of her thoughts becomes smooth. Her breathing slows and she begins to lose focus.
– Sleep, Baby. Sleep, now. You’re safe, now. Sleep.
Finally, the lids slide closed on those huge hazel eyes and the child slips away into a healing sleep.
Leana stands, facing Gaia, and takes her hand.
‘I need to meet your friends,’ she says.
‘Which friends?’ A trace of wariness has crept into Gaia’s mind-tone.
‘The ones in the Scarlet League. We need their help.’
Gaia smiles.
‘Man you’re good! I gotta get me some o’ what you got.’
BRAN
– Where is she?
He stands looking down from the window, with his back to the noise of the customers. The eating house is full, even on the second floor, and the table they have managed to secure has only three chairs.
Not that he could sit down, anyway. Pacing keeps the stress under control. Almost.
Leana is an hour overdue and the level of Guard activity on the street has them trapped in the eating-house.
– She’s probably hiding out somewhere, until the coast is clear. They’re certainly riled up over something.
Bran turns and marvels again at Erin’s ability to remain calm. All he can think of is Leana, stranded out there in the middle of a massive Black Guard crackdown. If she is captured –
– Someone killed two of the Citadel garrison. Reggie comes back to the table, carrying four plates of something vaguely resembling meat and vegetables. They’re all talking about it. Cracked one’s skull with a brick and slit the throat of the other one. They said it was a dark-haired girl. She ran away from a squad of soldiers, and disappeared into thin air.
Bran leans across the table.
– Leana?
– Could be. They’re blaming the Scarlet League, but it doesn’t feel like one of their stunts. They don’t tend to be so aggressive – or open. They like the hit-and-run at night. Maximum effect, for minimum risk. This was in broad daylight in the middle of town. It doesn’t feel like it was planned.
In the street below, the soldiers stand in groups, watching for movement, but the people of Berra know better than to venture outside at such a time.
Bran is still watching from the window and trying to remain positive.
– Look – Erin interrupts his thoughts again. If it was Leana, she’d have had a good reason for whatever she did. She’s not impulsive. You know that. And if they’d caught her, they wouldn’t still be out on the streets. So, I suggest we just sit tight and wait for them to give up and go back to the Citadel. She’s a big girl and she’s survived far worse than anything Hartman’s goons can throw at her.
They eat in silence, Bran standing beside the window and the others sitting at the small table.
But despite her calming words, Erin is worried.
The town is a new and complex environment and there are too many unknown factors waiting to trip them up. She thinks of Leana, alone out there and the food loses its taste.
ERIN’S STORY
It was after midnight when Leana finally returned to the meeting point we had arranged – and she wasn’t alone.
We were sleeping under a bridge near the lake, with some of Berra’s hundreds of homeless outcasts. At least, Reggie and Alek were sleeping. Bran had first watch and I– well, I couldn’t sleep.
In the end, it was my fault.
We’d agreed that wherever we moved, we would move in pairs at least – and preferably as a group – and when Leana had suggested a short solo trip to the marketplace for supplies, I’d initially said no. But she could be persuasive, when she wanted to be. I’d given in, against my better judgement and, for that, I was responsible.
It’s the first lesson you learn in Officer Prep. No
discussion. Take advisement, then step back, view the situation objectively and make a decision. I hadn’t done that, Leana was missing – and I couldn’t sleep.
Technically, she wasn’t crew. I didn’t have the right to order her to do or not to do anything. But Bran and I had assumed a sort of de facto leadership of our rag-tag rescue mission and that made me responsible for all our decisions.
So watching Leana walk back to us, as if she had just been for an evening stroll, the weight lifted from my shoulders.
I stood up and took a step towards them, but Bran was quicker.
– Where’ve you been? We were frantic, he began. Was it you they were looking for?
– I’m fine. Thanks for asking. And yes, I’m afraid it was. Sorry about all the fuss, but it was unavoidable.
Then she switched into wordspeech.
‘Erin and Bran – I’d like to introduce you to Gaia. She saved my life and introduced me to the members of the Scarlet League.’
I reached out a hand and Gaia responded.
‘Then I am honoured to meet you,’ I said – while Bran exploded in mind-speech.
– The League! You nearly get yourself killed and you just happen to stumble onto a member of the League?
‘There’s no need for mind-speech, Bran. Gaia knows all about us. You can talk freely in front of her.’
Gaia reached out to shake his hand.
‘So, you’re Bran. Leana has told me all about you.’ Then, turning to Leana, she affected a stage whisper. ‘’E’s better lookin’ th’n ya said, girl. I don’t think ’is nose is all that big at all.’
‘My nose?’ Bran had taken the bait and the two girls just laughed.
‘Okay,’ I said, trying to get things back on track, ‘about the Scarlet League. When can we get to meet them?’
‘As soon as we get the okay from Blakeney,’ Gaia said. ‘Nothing happens without his say-so.’
‘And how do we contact him?’
‘We don’t. He keeps his identity secret. When he’s ready, he will contact us. Until then, we wait.’
And wait we did. But not for long.
43
The Most Dangerous Man in the Land
The Citadel
February 7, 3384ad
Dreams of the Chosen Page 27