Threader

by Rebekah Turner

  ‘Sorry for the ride, I wanted to check where they got out,’ Cora mumbles as she hits a lower button. ‘I’m pretty sure that pass wasn’t legit. Lucky for them I’m in a forgiving mood.’

  Exiting on the third floor, I follow Cora to a large dormitory room, set out with ten bunk beds. I spy eight women my own age, sprawled about on the lounges and beanbags scattered in between the beds. Some heads are bent over slates, and others wear net-glasses, eyes elevated to stare at the digital readouts. I’ve seen these glasses advertised everywhere, but even the knock-offs are crazy expensive.

  I follow Cora over to a wall of lockers and watch as she taps on a holographic keypad. One of the doors near me swings open.

  ‘Getting your own room at this stage of the year will take a little time,’ she tells me. ‘Until that’s organised, you’ll stay here. Some of these girls are late starters, like you, while others just kind of lucked out on the single room score. Bunking with a handful of strangers is no fun, so hopefully you’ll get one soon. You can leave your stuff in this locker. I’ve set the programming and now you just need to enter your print.’

  I press my thumb against a small pad on the door and a red light scans it before beeping green. Cora takes out a small functional looking slate from my rookie pack and passes it to me before stuffing the bag into the locker and swinging the door shut. There’s a click and the keypad flashes red once. The slate in my hand is tiny, with a small academy logo at the bottom of the handle. When I pull the screen out, it’s crystal clear.

  ‘Is this mine?’ I ask.

  ‘While you’re at Helios, you betcha it’s yours. All your schedules should be loaded on it by now.’

  Cora checks her slate, then walks over to an empty bunk bed, indicating the bottom cot. ‘This is where you’ll sleep for now. You don’t have a bunk buddy yet, but that could change. I’m sure everyone here will make you feel welcome.’

  A girl in a nearby beanbag lowers her net-glasses, gives me the once over and then snorts, as if the sight of me is pretty darn funny. Thumbing the glasses back up, she leans back without a word. Cora gives me an apologetic look.

  ‘Well, I’m sure you’ll be fine anyway.’

  I slide the slate into a back pocket and try not to feel nervous at the idea of bunking with total strangers. ‘Where do you sleep?’

  ‘One of the private rooms, a level up,’ Cora says. ‘Room 3F. You ever need anything, feel free to knock on my door. Now, let’s get you a late breakfast. Most important meal of the day, you know.’

  Exiting the dorm, we head towards another level populated with small break-out and quiet rooms. We stop in a large area lined with windows that overlook a sprawling green landscape, dotted with trees. A shiny metallic kitchen sits to the left and a long table sits on the right. A screen takes up one wall, playing adverts for vitamin sodas, and a couple of news-tablets, headlines scrolling across their screens, sit on a coffee table between two couches.

  Two girls and a big guy with a buzz cut loiter in the kitchen, preparing food. The girls are dressed in white tracksuits with the Helios logo and I see they’re twins, with identical pinched features and short hair. Their chatter falls silent when Cora and I enter.

  ‘Help yourself to anything in the fridge or cupboards,’ Cora tells me. ‘Everything in the break-out rooms are communal. Coffee is over there.’ She points to a fancy looking machine beside the window.

  The two girls pause in buttering their toast and stare at me with hostile eyes. The guy just smirks. I try not to feel intimidated as I walk over, while Cora sticks her head in the fridge and pulls out a protein drink. She doesn’t introduce me to the others and I wonder if it’s because she doesn’t know them. I stare down at the coffee machine, feeling a little lost with all the glossy buttons.

  ‘Here, I’ll help you,’ Cora says. ‘You need a six-week training course and an air-car license to operate this thing.’

  She grabs a mug from a cupboard and places it in the machine’s slot, then presses a few of the buttons. I watch closely, trying to memorise it for next time.

  One of the twins whispers something to her sister and they both snicker. Tension scoots up my neck, but I try to ignore them, focusing on my mug being filled with glorious fresh coffee. When it’s ready, I see Cora’s scored a muffin each for us and I follow her to the table.

  ‘You want milk in that?’ Cora gestures to my coffee.

  ‘Yeah, want milk in that?’ One of the twins sneers. ‘Cora should have plenty in those huge breasts of hers.’

  Cora pretends she hasn’t heard them and I do the same. Being a loner throughout school, I suffered through my fair share of being bullied and I know how to defend myself now. But until I get a better feel for the place, I’m going to keep my head down and be a good little cadet.

  ‘I like it black,’ I tell Cora, though I really do want milk. No sense in making things worse. My muffin is nice, with juicy chunks of fruit and a sugar crust on top. Halfway through my black coffee, I start wondering if maybe I don’t mind it this way after all, though my legs are starting to feel restless, my fingers drumming against my thigh. I get up and walk to the window, mug in hand, eager to explore. I’m there all of five seconds before I feel the air shift behind me. The reflection of the window shows me it’s the guy with the buzz cut. I sip my coffee.

  ‘What’s your talent, fresh meat?’ he asks. ‘Price of a coffee is some show and tell. As in, I’m telling and you’re showing.’

  The twins giggle like he’s hilarious. I turn slow, like I’m not bothered that my personal space is being crowded. I’ve got to tilt my head up to look this guy in the eyes. His breath smells like rancid tinned asparagus and his eyes are flat and sneaky looking. I make a big show of blowing on my hot drink. Most bullies back off when they realise they won’t get a rise. Of course, other times they just try harder. The guy shoves a finger into one of my shoulders and I just avoid spilling hot coffee over myself.

  ‘You deaf?’

  ‘Keep your hands off me,’ I snap.

  The twins twitter some more, enjoying the show as they munch on their toast at the kitchen counter. The big guy’s smile widens. ‘You gonna scream for help, fresh meat? You gonna show everyone you can’t fight? This place is only for the biggest and baddest talents. Plenty come here, but not everyone gets to stay. You think you got what it takes?’

  Cora tries to muscle the guy away, but she can barely budge him. ‘Leave her alone, Dutch.’

  ‘Shut up, fatty.’ He throws her a glare and Cora shrinks back, pulling her cardigan around her shoulders.

  ‘You get away from her or else,’ she tries again, but her voice is faint.

  ‘Or else what?’ Dutch sneers at her, then makes a show of preparing to shove a finger into my shoulder again. Unfortunately, he doesn’t quite get there. See, Bobby taught me how to fight against stronger opponents, using one rule.

  Fight. Dirty.

  I pitch my hot coffee in his face and Dutch howls, reeling back. Before he gets too far, I follow up with a swinging kick, his crotch being ground zero.

  ‘Urk.’

  Dutch wobbles about, hands clutching between his legs. Cora stares at me, mouth wide, while the snarky twins hurry over to help their beefy friend up.

  ‘You didn’t have to do that,’ one of them hisses at me. I blink, almost certain I saw a forked tongue flick out between her teeth.

  Someone laughs and starts to clap from the doorway and I realise we have an audience. Two guys stand there watching, looking amused. One is tanned with blond hair and the other has a dark complexion with startling red eyes.

  ‘It’s not funny, Archer,’ Dutch wheezes. His face is red and I’m not sure it’s from my hot coffee or his blood pressure.

  The blond guy laughs. ‘I think it was, Dutch, and I think you might have deserved it.’

  The newcomers shift out of the way as the twins help Dutch limp out of the room. He turns awkwardly at the door, his mean eyes just slits. ‘This isn’t finished betw
een you and me, fresh meat,’ he growls at me.

  Red Eyes barks a short laugh. ‘Let it go, big man. She beat you good and solid.’

  Dutch scowls, then lets himself be pulled out of the room by the twins, limping and muttering darkly under his breath.

  ‘That was amazing.’ Cora grabs my arm. ‘I’ve never seen anyone stand up to Dutch like that before.’

  I shrug like it’s nothing, but my hands shake as I put down my empty mug. ‘I told him not to touch me.’

  The blond guy walks over. ‘You Josephine Ryder?’

  ‘Josie,’ I tell him.

  ‘I’m Luke. Luke Archer.’ He holds out a hand and I take it. Archer’s friend with red eyes comes close to introduce himself as well. He’s appallingly good looking and up close I see his pupils are pinpricks of white. I want to ask whether he’s wearing contacts or did it surgically, but I hold back. If I start asking questions now, I might never stop.

  ‘Cooper Devon.’ He holds out his hand and it feels like shaking a piece of heavy metal wrapped in skin.

  ‘Nice to meet you.’ I let go and absently wipe my hand against my leg, because I’m feeling a little creeped out by the sudden attention.

  ‘I’m giving her a tour,’ Cora says. Her face is all splotchy red and she keeps smoothing down her hair.

  ‘A word of warning. Dutch might come at you again.’ Archer walks to the fridge and pulls out an apple. ‘There’s a rumour you had a special meeting with one of the Helios suits.’ He bites into the apple with a loud crunch. ‘And not just any suit. Director Eckhart’s personal suit. Means you’re something special. That’s the kind of thing that can make other cadets real jealous, you know? Especially when there’s a lot of culling in the first year.’

  I’m about to ask more about Director Eckhart, but Cora cuts me off.

  ‘Of course she’s special,’ Cora says. ‘She’s a threader.’

  Archer’s bright eyes fix on me. ‘A puppet-master, hey?’

  I go cold. ‘Don’t call me that.’

  Cooper joins Archer at the fridge and selects a tub of yoghurt. ‘But you are a threader, aren’t you? You can control other people’s talents?’ he asks, his voice smooth and melodic.

  ‘Give her a break,’ Cora mutters. ‘It’s her first day.’

  Archer chews his mouthful of apple with a thoughtful look. ‘I heard you caught Blake Galloway spying on you and forced him to bring you here. Nice work. That guy is such a zipperhead.’

  They wait for me to say something, but my mouth is bone dry. Years of caution make it kind of hard for me to share. Not to mention I have no idea where to start.

  Archer looks at Cora. ‘Is she shy or something?’

  ‘She just needs a chance to catch her breath.’ Cora glances at the clock display above the fridge and grabs my arm. ‘We’ve got to go. Appointments to keep. People to see.’

  Archer grins and I’m sure he thinks it’s friendly, but there’s a calculating look in his eyes that makes me cautious. ‘You know, Dutch isn’t so bad once you get to know him. He’s the best offensive player on our team.’

  ‘Team?’ I manage to ask.

  ‘The Helios basketball team,’ Cooper offers. ‘You should check out our next game.’

  ‘Hell, you should try out,’ Archer laughs. ‘You could sit on the bench and make the other team let us win.’

  ‘And while Dutch is more or less okay, I’d still keep an eye out for him,’ Cooper says, licking his spoon and I get a glimpse of unusually sharp incisors. ‘I think you hurt his feelings, and primals can be pretty touchy about those kind of things.’

  ‘Dutch is nothing but a bully,’ Cora grumbles to me as we begin to head out. ‘But you showed him. He’ll leave you alone, if he knows what’s good for him.’

  Archer calls after us. ‘If he tries anything again, let me know, okay?’

  I’m not sure if I’m insulted or relieved at his unsolicited offer of assistance. When I glance back, Archer winks at me, like we’re going to be good friends. Cooper is busy spooning yoghurt into his mouth. Once again, I’m struck by how handsome he is. But it’s an odd, dangerous kind of beauty and something about him lights up my internal warning lights, telling me to run.

  CHAPTER 8

  As we head for the elevator, Cora heaves a sigh. ‘Cooper is such a honey, isn’t he? I used to have such a crush on him when I first got here. He’s not as nice as Archer though. He’s actually the captain of the basketball team, the Helios Hurricanes.’

  We step into the elevator and she hits the ground button.

  ‘They’ve won four championships so far,’ Cora continues. ‘I’ve seen one game and take it from me, Archer is amazing on the court. Just too bad he’s a primal. You’d want him medicated to the eyeballs before going anywhere alone with him.’ She lowers her voice to a hoarse whisper. ‘I heard primals are complete animals, but not in the good way, if you know what I mean.’

  I wasn’t sure I did, but really didn’t want any elaboration, so I just nod like I’m on board with the idea of avoiding primals. But hey, I’m not here to find a boyfriend, I’m here to make something of myself.

  ‘Is Cooper a primal as well?’ I ask as the elevator doors open and we exit the building and head down a walkway, both blinking against the bright midday sun.

  ‘No. He’s hydra.’

  I pause to absorb this. I’ve never actually met a hydra in person. Bobby had told me stories of hydra soldiers losing limbs, only to regrow them weeks later. Their regenerative abilities and intelligence not only make them deadly soldiers, but also efficient workers in the terraforming industry, with bodies that can stand higher levels of stress.

  ‘He looked so normal,’ I murmur. ‘Well, except for those eyes.’

  ‘Sure, he looks fine, but catch him on an off day, or if his glucose levels are low …’ Cora says.

  ‘You’re kidding. He’s diabetic?’

  ‘Naw. The meds they take here screw with their blood sugar levels. I once saw Cooper chow through two bags of marshmallows in ten minutes. And I heard at one game, he went on some huge downer and someone swore they saw him grow fangs and try to bite someone.’

  ‘Fangs?’ My voice squeaks a little on the word. ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘You know hydras. All sorts of weird little quirks. And then you get the ones who get body modifications done.’ Cora mock shudders. ‘Tongue splitters are the worst. Remind me of lizards, you know.’

  ‘Wait.’ I hold a hand up. ‘Why was Cooper biting someone? Why would he do that?’

  ‘No idea.’ Cora laughs as we walk along the footpath. ‘I think someone threw him a pack of jelly beans and then he was fine. Levelled him out.’

  ‘I thought only primals needed to take meds,’ I say.

  ‘Dunno. Primals and hydras are so weird.’ Cora points towards our destination, a functional looking tower with large windows, reflecting the outside world and revealing nothing of its secrets inside.

  Cora continued, ‘Cooper only lost it for a second, shouting and punching people like he thought he was a primal reverting. Only if he had been a primal, everybody would have run screaming, as opposed to throwing him sweets.’

  ‘Have you ever seen a primal revert?’ I’ve seen shaky footage of one, all ragged clothes and claws, raging through a street until law enforcement took them out. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

  ‘Never,’ Cora says. ‘But if I ever do, it’s probably too late to run.’

  We enter the building, the front doors sliding open to admit us. Stepping inside, I see we’re in a large foyer with white tiles and clean silver walls. The air is cool and scented lightly and three guards sit behind a smooth clear desk, eyes riveted on the flickering monitors in front of them. Discreet scanners make a buzzing noise overhead, disappearing when we head towards a line of elevators at the far end.

  ‘This is Central, where all the magic of administration happens.’ Cora stops outside one elevator. ‘And we’d better hurry, or we’ll be late for your evaluatio
ns.’

  The doors open and we enter, joining a few cadets who are talking quietly among themselves. Cora presses a few holographic buttons and the doors slide shut. I give a start when I realise we’re descending.

  ‘Are we underground?’ I ask in a hushed voice. The other cadets glance at each other and roll their eyes, but I ignore them. Guess it’s never cool to be a newbie.

  ‘Sure. There are ten levels underneath Central.’ Cora checks out her reflection in the silver panelling, adjusting her pink cardigan. ‘Upstairs buildings are all administration and offices. The sub-levels are where the specialised labs and evaluation bays are located.’

  Not wanting to seem like a wide-eyed hick, I try to act like this information about sub-levels is interesting, but yeah, whatever. But acting blasé is hard, because it’s probably the coolest place I’ve ever been in.

  ‘A techie by the name of Wendell will look after you,’ Cora explains to me. ‘She’s a low-level TK and a bit stuck up, but you’ll do just fine. She called me this morning to check if you were still here, so I guess she’s pretty keen to see what you can do.’

  My mouth goes a little dry at the idea of my talents being tested. What if I wasn’t a strong enough talent for Helios? Or what if I lost control and failed my tests?

  Cora catches my look and gives me a reassuring smile. ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll breeze through it all.’

  We exit into what looks like a warren of medical bays and rooms full of expensive looking equipment. Cora leads me to a large room with beige décor, silver chairs lining walls, and columns of exposed polished concrete. We’re the only ones here save for a girl with blue dreadlocks and lip piercings. She sits with her eyes closed in one of the chairs, her head resting back against the wall.

  Cora glances at the clock display. ‘We’re right on time. I’ll just wait until someone comes to get you.’