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by Rebekah Turner


  Before I can protest, we’re walking off. I’m about to pull away when Olivia murmurs, ‘I want to talk to you about the fundraiser. First time I’m going, you know, and I’m very excited.’

  I glance back at Cora and mouth an apology. She looks momentarily crestfallen, then gets distracted by something Tina says to her.

  ‘It’s so lovely that you’ve been invited as well,’ Olivia says, pulling my attention back. ‘But it must be intimidating to know everyone will be watching you.’

  ‘They will? Is that why I was invited?’ I manage to disentangle my arm from hers. ‘To perform tricks?’

  Olivia smiles. ‘Kind of hard if your talent doesn’t work.’

  I throw my hands up. ‘Does everyone know this?’

  She guides me around a corner where the walkway ends in a high-vis screen that projects a quiet forest grove, dotted with benches.

  ‘I do hope Blake hasn’t been bothering you. I know he was told to keep his distance. But being the eldest of the family, he’s got a nasty stubborn streak. He and Daddy always used to fight after Mother died. He was such a disappointment to Daddy when he joined the army instead of continuing his education at the academy.’ Her gaze sweeps over me, her face a stone mask. ‘What are you going to wear?’

  The question catches me off guard and I hesitate, thinking quickly. Cora has a shapeless black dress in her wardrobe that I have my eye on. Maybe with a nice belt, you wouldn’t notice the material looked a little tired.

  Olivia’s well-plucked eyebrows twitch. ‘Please tell me you’re not letting your cardigan friend dress you.’

  ‘Cora’s taste isn’t so bad.’ I valiantly try to defend my friend, even though today she’s wearing a cardigan with a teddy bear print and ballet shoes with cat faces, complete with buttons for eyes and leather stubs for whiskers.

  ‘You can’t go looking cheap,’ Olivia says crisply.

  ‘I’ll wear something appropriate,’ I assure her in a frosty voice. ‘I don’t intend to embarrass myself.’

  Olivia grabs my arm and pulls me along with her again, walking away from the vis-screen and towards a shop with elaborate pillars standing guard out front. ‘Of course, one never intends to do that. Let me show you this dress that I think will look perfect on you.’ There is a wisp of a smile on her lips, which I find terrifying.

  ‘I can’t just leave Cora,’ I protest.

  Olivia’s grip tightens. ‘Nonsense. Cora is just fine. You should worry more about yourself, because if you show up in a cardigan of any description, no one will take you seriously. From the way Aaron talks about you, it would appear you’ve got quite a bright future with Galloway Industries, once you graduate, of course. This makes you important to my family. I don’t have to like you, I don’t have to be your bosom buddy, but I’d like to make sure you at least look the part. It really is for the best.’

  The shop Olivia drags me into is intimidating, with curtain draped walls, marble flooring and shop assistants in crisp white uniforms. Before I can protest again, I’m being fitted into a sparkly red dress that drops to my knees and doesn’t have a price tag. Olivia sits in a comfy armchair, staring down at her slate. It’s not a flexi model, but sturdy instead, with creamy handles and edges encrusted with what looks like diamonds. I try not to think too long about whether the diamonds are real.

  I turn around, hungrily eyeing the dress in the mirror. Olivia looks up from her screen to run a critical eye over me.

  ‘I think this will be acceptable,’ she says.

  I meet her appraising gaze in the mirror and my fantasy crumbles. ‘I can’t afford this.’

  Olivia’s eyes drop back to her slate. ‘That’s why you’re going to let me buy it for you as a gift.’

  ‘Right,’ I snort. I have enough smarts to know when I’m being played.

  ‘I’m serious.’ Olivia closes her screen and tucks the slate into her handbag. Rising up and stretching like a cat, she prowls across the shop floor to stand behind me. Her eyes run over my hair with a considering look. ‘It’s important to impress. To show you fit in.’

  My fingers skim the soft material at my hips. ‘You think I don’t know that?’

  Olivia purses her lips. ‘How about a trade, then? This dress for a later favour.’

  ‘What kind of favour?’

  In the mirror, her reflection smiles at mine, but there’s no warmth in it. ‘I heard that you’ve met my ex-boyfriend, Archer.’

  I turn to face her. ‘I’ve seen him around.’

  Olivia’s face twists. ‘Sure you have. And I’ve seen him sniffing around you. Let me tell you, he’s a mangy dog who’ll chase anything in a skirt. Especially a skirt who he thinks might help his status. Then once he’s got you, he gets bored and just like that—’ she clicks her fingers, ‘—everything you had together is gone. Like you never existed.’

  She spins me back to face my reflection and leans over my shoulder, eyes locked with mine in the mirror.

  ‘Archer broke my heart,’ she whispers. ‘Worse still, he humiliated me. Publicly.’ Her reflection smiles again, as if she’s practising. ‘For that transgression, I’m going to clip his naughty primal balls. And you’re going to help me.’

  CHAPTER 18

  Feeling guilty for abandoning Cora earlier, I spend a few more hours with her at the shopping centre after Olivia leaves, Tina trotting behind her. When Cora queries me about the horrendously expensive shopping bag I’m holding, I have to confess Olivia helped me find something. What I don’t tell her is my plan to return the dress after the function, cancelling my debt to Olivia. Cora gives me a worried look and I quickly change the subject. By the time we get back to Helios, I find myself ten minutes late to my session with Wendell.

  When I get to the assessment room, Wendell is speaking to a woman with a long braid of black hair. They both stop talking when I enter the room.

  ‘Josie, this is Amy Vogel,’ Wendell introduces us. ‘She’s a contractor we’ve asked in to help us.’

  ‘Hey there, sugar. Just call me Vogel.’ The dark-haired woman shakes my hand in a firm grip. Her eyes are a cool grey and her wide lips are a slash of blood red.

  ‘Vogel is a telepath,’ Wendell explains. ‘As I explained before, she’ll help us find a way to break this lock.’

  Vogel’s lips spread in a wide smirk. ‘There are many things I excel at, but the only one I’m allowed to put on my business card is my specialisation in retrieval of information.’ She pauses, then adds, ‘I’ll admit I’ve never done anything with a threader before. Makes me feel like a virgin all over again.’

  ‘What’s the plan?’ I ask, nervous as I recall Blake’s warning about Vogel’s techniques being painful.

  ‘From the information we’ve gathered,’ Wendell says, ‘we believe a locked thread can be broken through the prolonged engagement of stress hormones, which control your fight or flight response.’

  ‘I’ll start with a baseline test,’ Vogel tells me. ‘Gauge how strong you are. A little slap and tickle before the main event, just so I know your limits. Then I’ll locate this lock of yours, find its weak points and try to break it.’

  I think of my puzzle-chest and wonder if Vogel is strong enough to break into it. The thought frightens me. ‘Are you going to look at my memories?’

  To my relief, Vogel shakes her head.

  ‘No, sugar. You keep your secrets, though I doubt they’re as tasty as mine. I’m only looking for the lock and ways to break it. Today though, it’s just a strength test. All you gotta do is resist my TP for as long as you can.’ She leans forward. ‘And I really want to hear your verbal consent before I begin anything.’ She looks over at Wendell, giving the techie a slow wink. ‘Not that I don’t trust your divine mentor here, but I’d like to hear it from your own sweet lips.’

  ‘My verbal consent?’ I repeat, confused.

  ‘This process won’t be easy, Josie,’ Wendell explains. ‘I think Vogel needs to understand just how much you want this.’

 
From the serious look in both women’s eyes, I realise there might be some real danger involved. But I don’t hesitate.

  ‘I’ll do whatever it takes,’ I tell Vogel.

  The telepath relaxes a fraction. ‘Good, good. Just wanted you warned, fair and square. These measures aren’t for the fainthearted, you know.’ She reaches out and pats my cheek. ‘But we should be able to come out of this with all your pretty parts still working.’

  Wendell clears her throat, bringing our attention back to her. ‘And most importantly, these sessions should be regarded as confidential.’

  Vogel holds one hand across her heart, the other in the air. ‘You know me, sweetie, I am the soul of discretion.’

  ‘I understand,’ I tell Wendell, then scrub my sweaty palms against my legs and tell myself I’m strong enough for anything they throw at me. I’m a Ryder, right?

  Wendell indicates a pair of chairs. ‘Are you ready to begin?’

  Vogel and I sit, our knees touching as we face each other. My palms start to sweat again and I focus on taking deep, clean breaths. Wendell stands a little way behind Vogel, watching us.

  ‘Now, I’m going to start the baseline test.’ Vogel’s previous light-hearted manner evaporates now and she rests her hands against the side of my head. Her eyes close and I feel weird just staring at her, so I close my eyes as well. Something tickles my mind and then her TP smashes into me like a fist of iron, a metal clanging sound filling my ears. Both my talents surge out, ready to defend and clash with Vogel’s TP. The talents twist around each other, assessing and struggling for footing. Though I know this is a strength test, I instinctively pull back at first. The retreat only lasts a moment, before my talents fight back, hating the intrusion, and my thoughts churn uncomfortably, as if Vogel has stuck a wooden spoon in my skull and started stirring. My thoughts collide and an imprint of an image flares bright behind my closed eyes: an amorphous braid of burning light, extending deep into myself.

  I want to break the contact with Vogel, because the light I’m seeing frightens me. But my limbs are locked, muscles frozen. My eyes open and I find Vogel watching me now, her grey eyes calm and assessing. It’s hard to judge the distance of time as we sit facing each other. As our talents wrestle, a thought stirs from the recesses of my mind. That my volunteering might be something of a novelty to Vogel. That most people she deals with don’t go through this willingly.

  By the time the session finishes, we’re both breathing hard and my ears are ringing. A bead of sweat drips down the side of Vogel’s face.

  ‘What did you see?’ I ask, breathless.

  ‘Nothing you wouldn’t want me to, sweetie,’ she puffs. ‘And I found the lock. Pretty thing. The composition is rock solid, so it’s going to take some time.’ She wipes her face. ‘Goodness. I’ve never wrestled this much with a rookie before. Must be losing my touch.’

  ‘Sorry,’ I tell her, relieved she hasn’t gone anywhere near the dark corner of my mind where I keep my puzzle-chest. ‘If I knew how to help you, I would.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I think I’ve got a feel for the shape of the lock. It’s strong, but I see a few chinks in it. With a bit of pressure, I could snap it within a week.’

  ‘You’re doing okay, Josie?’ Wendell asks.

  ‘Just fine.’ I give her a droopy thumbs up.

  Wendell looks relieved and rests a hand on Vogel’s shoulder. ‘Great work. We’ll continue tomorrow morning, then.’

  I exit on uncertain legs, praying I’m not going to collapse. The strain of dealing with the intrusion of Vogel’s TP has taken its toll and all I want to do is fall into bed. My talents have huddled back into their home, licking their wounds. I’ve never met a TP as strong and flexible as Vogel, and it’s confronting to come up against such a powerful telepath. Knees wobbling, I hurry down the corridor, hoping that Vogel’s strong enough to do what needs to be done. Then I wonder if I’ll be strong enough, and I tell myself I have to be.

  CHAPTER 19

  The day of the fundraiser approaches fast and before I know it, I’m dressing in Cora’s room. My hands shake as I slip my feet into some black shoes I’ve borrowed from her. Cora is currently sprawled out on her bed, eating corn chips from a bowl with a wistful expression.

  ‘That dress is divine,’ she sighs. ‘I can’t believe that bitch Olivia found it for you.’

  I smooth down the front, trying to think of an answer that doesn’t sound like I sold out to Olivia somehow. My face is pale in the mirror and the make-up Cora helped me with is stark. Working with Vogel on breaking the lock this past week has sown a seed of paranoia inside of me. Each session is harder than the one before and I worry about the kind of techniques she’s going to use when she actually tries to make a hard break. Eckhart once asked me how badly I want to stay at the academy, and I hadn’t lied. I’ll do anything. But I’m still worried. What if my body and talents betray me and the lock can’t be broken?

  ‘Josie?’

  I realise Cora has asked me a question. I turn from the mirror to face her. ‘Sorry, what?’

  ‘I was telling you to have fun tonight.’ She licks her fingers. ‘Make sure you cosy up to Aaron for me.’

  ‘Do you know if Blake is back?’ I ask casually.

  Cora flops on her back with a groan. ‘He came back yesterday. Straight up told me he was going to test me by the end of the week on a solo slide.’

  ‘You’ve never gone on your own before?’

  ‘Nope. I’ve always been under supervision, or with a slide buddy. I’m not exactly the picture of elegance, you know.’ Cora flaps her arms around. ‘There’s usually a lot of flailing and screaming.’

  ‘I’ll bet you’re not that bad.’ I go to grab one of the corn chips, but she slaps my hand away.

  ‘None for you. You’ll get chip breath.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ I run a tongue over my teeth, trying to remember if I brushed them.

  ‘Jeremy has been helping me a lot.’ Cora smiles dreamily.

  ‘The infamous Jeremy Murphy, hey?’

  Cora smiles, biting her bottom lip. ‘He’s doing wonders for my motivation.’

  ‘The infamous Jeremy Murphy sure sounds helpful.’

  ‘He is. And Blake says I can wear a nanosuit to feel more secure as well.’

  ‘Sounds like Blake is also being helpful,’ I say. ‘But you don’t need his advice, or Jeremy to hold your hand. I’m sure you’re stronger than you think.’

  ‘Thanks, coach.’

  There’s a knock at Cora’s door and we both freeze. A screen beside the door flickers on to show Aaron standing outside.

  ‘Hello? I’m looking for Josie,’ he says to the door-cam. ‘Someone said she might be here. It’s Aaron Galloway.’

  Cora and I exchange startled glances. My first instinct is to hide, then I realise how stupid that is. Cora quickly fixes her hair, then looks round in horror at the messy state of her room. Stashing the bowl of chips under the bed, she kicks a few stray shoes aside. Huffing a breath into her cupped hand and wincing, she hurries over to open the door. Aaron wears a dark suit and crisp white tie and his hair has been styled carefully. Cora just stands in the doorway, her jaw open.

  ‘Hi.’ Aaron smiles at Cora. When he sees my dress, his eyes widen. ‘Josie. You look stunning.’

  I touch Cora’s shoulder and she jumps.

  ‘Ah. Yes. Right. Hello,’ Cora says breathlessly.

  ‘Sorry.’ I apologise to Aaron, but I’m not sure why. ‘I thought I was being picked up out the front.’

  ‘You are. Or rather, we are. I thought you might appreciate company on the trip over,’ Aaron explains. ‘Hope that’s alright.’

  ‘Sure. Thanks,’ I murmur. Cora grabs the small black clutch she’s lent me and shoves it in my hands.

  ‘Have fun,’ she tells me. ‘You have to promise to fill me in when you get back.’

  As I follow Aaron down the corridor, I glance over my shoulder to see Cora frantically motioning for me to slip my a
rm around Aaron’s waist. I just roll my eyes.

  Outside, a sleek black air-car waits for us, and Aaron opens the door for me. It’s a fancy stretch model; the inside is all polished wood and white leather, with a real crystal decanter in a wet bar. The car gives a smooth hum as the engine starts, and I watch Helios fall away through the tinted windows.

  ‘You look beautiful,’ Aaron says.

  My fingers twitch, wanting to tug at the dress. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Can I offer you a refreshment?’ he asks, gesturing to the display screen in the wet bar, showing the other drinks available to us.

  ‘No, thanks.’

  A small silence falls, before Aaron says, ‘How are you finding the sessions with the consultant?’

  ‘They’re going okay.’

  Aaron looks like he wants to ask more and I brace myself for questions about the lock that I can’t answer, but he just throws me a dashing smile.

  ‘Just remember I’m cheering on the sidelines, okay?’

  My shoulders loosen an inch. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Do you know this area much?’ Aaron gestures to the window and I look out, giving my head a small shake. Last time I was in an air-car was when law enforcement picked me up for my second strike. I’d hated the pitching sensation the car gave as it wove through the air, the ground so far away. But this air-car rides smooth and straight and, surrounded by this luxury, I find myself enjoying the ride.

  Aaron shifts to sit closer to me and I tense. It’s not that he makes me nervous, I’m just worried he’s going to make some kind of move. Cora insinuated that Aaron would be a fantastic catch. But while he’s crushingly handsome, I’m not drawn to him. Hell, I don’t know the guy, so how could I feel anything? Watching him, I realise I’m comparing him to Blake and quickly shut down the thought.

 

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