Threader

by Rebekah Turner

I sit on the windowsill, unable to sleep. Something’s wrong with the heating system in the room and my backside has gone numb with the cold night air. But I stay here, staring up at the fading moon as sunrise approaches. Blake’s shirt hangs loose on me, smelling of soap and his intoxicating ocean-scented cologne. He lies on my small bed, heavy tattooed limbs sprawled out as he snores softly. I want more than anything to snuggle back in his arms. But the peace I’ve craved didn’t last long and now my mind won’t stop whirling with the different scenarios I might face with this new day.

  If Eckhart and Aaron can’t figure out a way to get the gate working, does that mean Helios is done with me? Eckhart said he knew Olivia was behind what happened to Archer, but I was the one who pulled the trigger. What does that mean for my future at the academy?

  My slate beeps and I snatch it up, hoping it’s a message from my uncle. Instead, it’s Vogel, saying she’s coming to get me. Blake doesn’t stir as I quickly take off his shirt and get dressed before opening my door. Vogel appears a moment later, her shoulders hunched in the dimly lit corridor, hands shoved in her pockets.

  ‘What’s happened?’ I whisper, leaning against the doorframe so she can’t get a good view into my room.

  ‘The issue has been fixed,’ Vogel says quietly. ‘Aaron discovered the glitch and now we’re ready to go again.’

  A glitch? I open my mouth to ask what she meant earlier, about watching my back, when a rustling behind me makes me pause.

  ‘What do you mean … again?’ Blake materialises beside me, rubbing his eyes. He’s pulled on his jeans, and while his broad, naked shoulders are relaxed, his voice is tense.

  My eyes dart to Vogel, expecting to see recrimination there for not keeping my distance from him. Oddly, Blake’s presence hasn’t thrown her and she just looks impatient for us to go.

  I drag my eyes from Vogel to Blake’s questioning look. ‘I didn’t get a chance to tell you,’ I say. ‘I worked on the Ciliary Gate project earlier with Aaron.’

  ‘You what?’ Blake nearly shouts.

  ‘We don’t have time for this,’ Vogel says.

  I swallow and try to explain. ‘We tried to turn on the gate, but there was a—’ I glance at Vogel, ‘—glitch.’

  ‘Which is now fixed.’ Vogel gestures to me. ‘Josie, Director Eckhart expects you back, without delay.’

  ‘I’m coming.’ I make a move for my shoes on the floor, but Blake touches my arm, stopping me. His worried eyes search mine, so I give him a small, reassuring smile.

  ‘It’s okay,’ I tell him. ‘You know Aaron is the best at what he does. He won’t let anything go wrong.’

  Blake drops his hand, not looking convinced. He turns and starts hunting for his shirt, which I’ve thrown over my desk. ‘I’m coming with you.’

  ‘You don’t have clearance, Blake,’ Vogel tells him.

  ‘I don’t care.’ He pulls the shirt over his head, his jaw set to a stubborn angle. ‘This whole thing stinks. Why the secrecy? Why is the project being run in the dead of night? Something’s not right.’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ I tell him. ‘There are precautions in place.’

  ‘I don’t like it,’ Blake says. ‘So consider me your precaution.’

  ‘You don’t have to like it.’ Vogel’s voice turns to steel and I hope Blake isn’t going to push her, because it doesn’t sound like the telepath’s going to give.

  ‘You can’t stop me from coming with her.’ Blake grabs his jacket from beside the bed.

  ‘I can.’ Vogel’s voice is sharp, the threat hanging in the air. Blake stops and stares at her, shocked. ‘And I will, if you force me to.’

  Remembering her earlier easygoing nature, I wonder what kind of pressure Vogel’s under to behave this way. It occurs to me that maybe Eckhart used the same persuasive means on her that he used on me. Maybe she has just as much riding on this project being a success as I do.

  My gaze bounces from one to the other, wondering who’s going to give first. To my surprise, Blake does.

  ‘Fine.’ He raises his hands, surrendering. ‘Whatever you say.’

  Vogel’s eyes cut to me. ‘Let’s go.’

  ‘I’ll be back soon,’ I say to Blake. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.’

  He doesn’t reply and I hesitate before following Vogel, wishing I had a chance to explain myself to him. At the end of the quiet corridor, I turn to see he’s no longer watching us and my bedroom door is closed.

  We ride to the ground level in silence, then hurry through the cold dawn air towards Central. I keep wondering what Vogel isn’t telling me, but sensing her guard is well and truly up, I don’t ask. Her shoulders are drawn together and there’s a veiled look in her eye, a stiff manner in her walk that sparks my caution.

  When we begin to descend to the lower levels, I let slip my TP. I’m uneasy enough about her behaviour that I feel no guilt as I ease into her mind. Inside, I find her thoughts in a strange, frenetic scatter, impossible to track. There’s an order to the chaos, but it’s difficult to get a grip on anything. One image jolts loose from the hectic jumble and slams into me. It’s of her and Wendell at a cafe together, holding hands. I dart around it, embarrassed to discover her secret this way.

  The elevator slows and I’m about to withdraw my TP when something slithers into view. It’s only a flicker of an image, an imprint of a braid—almost identical to the one I had with Blake. Before I can focus on it, it blinks out of sight so quickly I wonder if I imagined it. The doors slide open and Vogel strides out without looking back, and I hurry to follow her down the quiet underground corridor.

  She passes her hand over the checkpoint and the blast doors once again open to admit us. Inside, the air is tinged with anticipation. Techies hurry about, shouting to each other more frantically than before. Aaron works feverishly on a monitor behind one of the metal shields. After he sees me, he swipes the glowing diagrams aside and beckons me over. When I get close, I notice beads of sweat on his upper lip.

  ‘I hear everything’s fixed?’ I ask cautiously.

  ‘That’s right,’ he says. ‘We should be fine to go back in.’

  Wendell appears, a suit slung over each arm. She motions to Vogel and myself. ‘Let’s get you both suited up quickly.’

  The urgency everyone seems to have sets my teeth on edge. But I don’t complain as Vogel and I strip behind one of the shields and get dressed. I’m still fumbling around with clasps after Vogel is dressed, and she once again helps me. I notice a pained expression on her face.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ I ask, my voice low.

  Vogel starts, then focuses on me. ‘What do you mean? Everything’s fine.’

  ‘Do you really think it’s okay to go back in?’

  Vogel’s mouth parts, but nothing comes out. A line of blood trickles from her nose and she swipes it away.

  ‘Are you okay?’ I grab her arms, worried she’s going to keel over.

  Vogel stares at the smear on her gloved hand. ‘It’s nothing.’

  ‘Do you need to lie down?’

  Eckhart appears. ‘Are we ready?’ He frowns when he sees Vogel staring at the blood on her glove. ‘I thought I told you before to report to medical.’

  ‘I’m okay,’ Vogel mutters.

  Eckhart calls Wendell over and instructs her to escort Vogel upstairs. The telepath resists at first. ‘What if something else goes wrong?’ she protests. ‘You need me here.’

  ‘Nothing will go wrong,’ Eckhart says with a confidence I wish I could feel. ‘And I can’t be worried you’re going to pass out in the middle of the operation.’

  Vogel keeps arguing, her face set in stubborn lines, until Eckhart finally agrees she can stay, as long as she keeps out of the way. She walks away reluctantly, still holding her bleeding nose. Wendell follows close, as if half-suspecting Vogel will try and hustle herself back to us.

  ‘Is she alright?’ Aaron comes alongside me.

  ‘Yes,’ Eckhart assures him. ‘Let’s begin again, shall we? One last
try.’

  Aaron crooks his elbow at me. ‘Come on, Josie. Let’s make this happen.’

  I force myself to take his arm. With my boots on the red X at the base of the gate, I see all the techies crowded into the viewing booths, doors securely closed. Vogel stands in one and when she catches my eye, she gives me a thumbs up. I look away, sick with worry.

  ‘You trust me, don’t you, Josie?’ Aaron asks.

  ‘Sure.’ I try to sound confident. I wonder what my parents would say if they could see me now. Would they be disappointed? Worried? Remembering the dozen trick boxes they’d left me, I think maybe I had it wrong. That they would be proud that I was going to finish their work and help achieve their vision.

  I reach for Aaron’s hands. Renewed energy sparks through my body as my talents braid with his, then we rocket through the iris. Familiar now with the barrier, it takes me half the time to open it and then we’re through to the glowing labyrinth of the Ciliary Gate. Once again we follow the luminous white path, Aaron checking and testing components as we go. My movements are jittery as we travel, but this time there is no humming or chattering noises.

  At the end of the path we’re on, one final bobbly-thingy looms. I hang back as Aaron connects with its data stream. Watching him work, I can’t shake the sense that something’s wrong. My brain sorts through the pieces of the puzzle. The chattering noise in the gate last time. Vogel’s bloody nose. A glitch? The memory of Aaron standing over a grave as a child. My consciousness shifts closer to Aaron, watching him work with firm, decisive movements.

  Unable to resist, I shift past the memories that flicker through his mind, because instinct tells me he’s hiding something. How could he have a memory of seeing himself standing over a grave? It had to be a memory that didn’t belong to him. Which was impossible. How could Aaron have another person’s memory? Shuffling around with a light touch, I push deeper, seeking the answer to my unease. Had Aaron’s mind been compromised somehow?

  Then, I see it.

  Tucked deep within the recess of Aaron’s mind, I find what I’m looking for. A braided thread the colour of diamonds, entwined with Aaron’s bright talent. The thread is strong in construction and sophisticated by design, the composition shimmering with the bright colour of its surroundings in an act of camouflage. There’s a familiarity to the thread, and when I shove hard against it, testing its strength, a psychic slash reveals an imprint of a person I instinctively recognise. Someone who was a friend to the Galloways during a private tragedy, standing with them over an open grave. I realise two things. Aaron is being controlled by someone. And that someone is Eckhart, because he’s not just a telepath like he claims.

  He’s a threader.

  CHAPTER 36

  The revelation detonates inside my mind. My world contracts tight, then blows out in a shockwave, revealing Eckhart’s deceit. He’s lied about his talent. He isn’t just a telepath. He’s a threader and he’d lied. He’s threaded with Aaron and I’m willing to bet Aaron doesn’t know of it. And if Eckhart’s treachery extends to controlling others, who knows what else he’s capable of? I think of Vogel’s behaviour earlier, how strange she was acting. Betrayal and anger flood me in a hot rush, vibrating down the thread. Aaron senses this and turns from the datastream he’s been working on.

  ‘Josie?’ he asks.

  I remember how Vogel formed her TP into a scythe, how she moved hard and fast, severing my lock with Blake. I harden my consciousness until it’s granite tough, then sharpen the edge, constructing a curved weapon. I slash it towards Aaron and there’s little resistance as I slice through the partly camouflaged thread like it’s butter. Aaron’s talent shudders and I drag him with me as I race back down the glowing white path, unravelling our thread once we’re out of the iris.

  Outside the gate, I have a second to ground myself in my body before I see Aaron’s eyes roll up in his head. My hands grasp for him as he crumples, but he’s too heavy and we both tumble to the ground.

  Eckhart appears, his breath short as he helps me up. ‘What happened?’

  I jerk away from him. Behind me, the gate’s mechanics begin to wind down. I slap my hand against the side of my helmet and my visor snaps up. ‘I saw what you did.’

  Eckhart’s hands drop to his sides. ‘What?’

  ‘I know what you are,’ I whisper.

  My eyes are fixed on him, the taste of betrayal sour in my mouth. ‘You’re a threader. You were controlling Aaron. Why?’

  Around us, techies begin exiting the booths, looking confused. Eckhart says nothing as Wendell hurries over, crouching beside Aaron to check his vitals. She catches the tense undercurrent and looks up, puzzled.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she asks.

  Eckhart’s brow smooths out and he reaches for me again, as if to calm me. ‘This is my fault, Josie. I can see I’ve put you under too much pressure.’

  I retreat a step and he sighs, dropping his hand. He looks at Wendell. ‘How is he doing?’

  Wendell straightens. ‘Strong pulse. He’ll be fine. He should go to medical for a check over though.’ She folds her arms. ‘What’s going on?’ she asks again.

  Eckhart opens his mouth to say something and my heart sinks. I can already hear the conversation. He’ll deny my accusation. Say I’m lying. But before he can tell her anything, a deep, rolling rumble blasts from the gate and the floor vibrates violently.

  Everyone’s gaze lifts to the structure and it trembles again, cables and steel platforms shaking. A screeching sound splits the air, assaulting my eardrums. From deep inside the gate, metal grinds with a protesting squeal. The noise winds to silence, leaving a loud ringing in its wake. Tearing my eyes from the gate, I look back at Eckhart. His face is elated, full of joy.

  ‘Finally. It’s beginning. We have found a way, after all this time.’ He drags his helmet off, his lopsided smile broad.

  Wendell turns to him. ‘What’s beginning? What’s happening?’

  Eckhart ignores her. ‘It’s what I’ve wanted you to understand, Josie. That to allow others to underestimate you, is to gain the advantage.’

  ‘Why?’ I ask again. My talent is on high alert in case Eckhart gets the bright idea of playing puppet-master with me. ‘What advantage?’

  ‘Vogel was the strongest, you know.’ Eckhart’s eyes turn distant and he shifts to face the gate. ‘I’m afraid I might have inflicted permanent damage with my thread, she was so strong.’

  Wendell shakes her head. ‘I don’t think Josie is the one under stress, Director. You’re not making any sense.’

  Eckhart ignores her, watching the gate’s machinery as it begins to whirl to life, the petals humming with power, hydraulic arms pumping. ‘Olivia Galloway was much easier. A life of luxury left her defences quite malleable.’

  ‘And Aaron?’ There’s a metallic tint in the air. On instinct, I snap my visor down, fresh air flooding into my lungs.

  Eckhart’s gaze drops to Aaron’s unconscious body. The techies look puzzled as they check equipment and monitors. There are more than a few worried faces behind visors.

  ‘I didn’t have to try hard to convince Aaron, so blinded he was by his own ambition. He was the easiest yet,’ Eckhart says. ‘The accolades he would have received if the project were to succeed was temptation enough. After I assured him he would be nominated to take my position on the Executive Board, he was most eager to see the project to fruition. And his solutions were flawless.’ Eckhart shakes his head. ‘But of course, I couldn’t have that.’

  ‘Why was it so important to open the gate?’ I need to know this, more than anything. It’s as if every paranoid story Bobby ever told me is coming true. You could only trust yourself. Especially in the face of the—

  Enemy.

  A scream echoes from the gate and the petals around the iris fold inwards with a groan of metal, wrenched by a tremendous gravitational pull. Cables pop loose and steel bends as the structure shudders and a gaping black vortex begins to form. There’s a terrifying beat of
silence, before a great force gusts out from the vortex like an exhalation, followed by funnels of thick, grey smog. Around the room, frantic red lights swirl and a high-pitched alarm begins to shriek. From above the gate, the huge blast shield begins to lower with a grinding noise, preparing to seal the gate.

  Eckhart grimaces at the piercing sound of the alarm and claps his hands over his ears, the skin on his face pulsating and twisting as if in great pain. I feel a ripple of air as his TK breezes by me to smash into the monitors behind the metal shields. There’s a pop and crack of electronics being ripped apart, before the alarms fall silent and the blast shield shudders to a stop.

  Eckhart’s body relaxes and he straightens to stare back at the iris, where the twisting air has split and spread, tugging and pulling in all directions around the cavern, creating a whirlpool of debris and confusion.

  Wendell grabs Eckhart’s arm, yelling something, but I can’t hear over the noise of the alien wind. My fear thaws as the thick gale buffets my body. I hook my hands under Aaron’s armpits and drag him to one of the viewing booths. More than anything, I want to join the techies in their rush for the exit, but I can’t. I have to wake Aaron and shut the gate down. I was so sure he hadn’t finished opening it. But there are clearly two options here: either the gate had weakened and enabled the breach, or something opened it from the other side.

  Vogel appears, her visor fogged with her quickened breath. ‘We have to evacuate before the door seals,’ she yells over the wind. I can’t see any indication that Eckhart is still controlling her, but I can’t be sure. Looking across the chamber, I see Wendell still arguing with Eckhart. She grabs Eckhart’s arm, trying to force him to leave with her. But Eckhart jerks away, then backhands her with a violent blow. The force lifts her body into the air and a ferocious gust of wind sucks her up, pulling her, limbs twisting, arms flailing, towards the vortex. Vogel shouts something I can’t hear, and she’s barely out of the booth before Wendell smashes just below the gaping iris and tumbles to the ground, motionless.

  Vogel streaks towards Eckhart. At first I think Eckhart will use his thread to stop her, but he just dodges her blows with ease. Vogel pulls a sleek black gun from a holster and shoots Eckhart. The director’s head snaps back, then he straightens and stares at her, seemingly unconcerned by the gaping hole in his forehead. Vogel goes to fire again, but Eckhart darts forward with an inhuman speed, one hand knocking the gun out of her hand, the other wrapping around her neck and squeezing.