Infiltrators

by Alison Ingleby

  “Oh. Err …” I scrabble to get my thoughts together. “You said you’re still working on it. When will it be ready?”

  The professor opens his mouth to reply but Aleesha suddenly explodes into a fit of coughing. “Are you alright?”

  She nods and gestures to her throat and the door. “Water …” she gasps, her face reddening.

  “Of course.” The professor hurries to open the door. “There’s a fountain on the right. Just press the buzzer when you want to come back in.”

  Aleesha gives me a look and hurries out. Nice decoy.

  “As I was saying, we’re not far off. We almost had it perfected years ago, then we suffered an unexpected setback. An important piece went missing. But we’ve managed to work out how to use the unit to control individual officers when inputting a text or voice command. It’s linking that to the Commander’s chip that’s proving problematic. And the boosting is a challenge. Particularly in a city like this. So many tall buildings.”

  The bud in my ear crackles again.

  “And how does it work?” I peer closer at the box.

  “Well, obviously most of it is confidential. I’m not really allowed to talk about it with the officers or captains, let alone recruits.” The professor gives me a sympathetic glance.

  The door buzzes and Rogue moves to open it. Aleesha slips into the room and flashes her fingers at me.

  Ten minutes.

  I school my expression into one of disappointment. “No, I guess I can understand that. It’s fascinating though.”

  “It is indeed!” The professor beams and claps me on the shoulder. “Well if for any reason you fail the Metz tests, get them to send you over to me. I’m always looking for more assistants.” He gives me a wink.

  Over the professor’s shoulder, I catch Aleesha whispering something to Rogue. He nods and straightens. “We should be going, Professor. Thank you for your time.”

  The professor turns and smiles at him. “Not a problem, not a problem. Always nice to see some new faces.”

  He ushers us out and the door clicks shut behind us.

  Aleesha checks her wrist. “I managed to delay a bit, but they can’t wait any longer. The Commander’s heading back any minute.”

  “It’s not far to the tower. It will only take us five minutes to get up there.” Rogue’s voice is calm and controlled.

  We walk down the corridor toward the double doors that lead back out into the wide corridor with the strange green lighting. But before we reach them, they’re thrown back and a man strides in. Rather than pushing past us, he stops, letting the doors swing shut behind him.

  Beside me, I feel Rogue tense.

  “Problem?” Aleesha mutters quietly.

  “Yes,” Rogue whispers. He stands to attention and salutes. “Sir.”

  The corner of the man’s mouth twists up in a cold half smile. “ML486. I wasn’t expecting to see you here. And who are these two … recruits?”

  I can almost feel the seconds ticking by. Seconds we don’t have.

  17

  Aleesha

  Rogue seems lost for words. Then, finally, he collects himself. “I was on my way to mess when I received a request to escort these two recruits on a tour of the officer side of the compound. A reward for their performance in recent tests.”

  The officer’s eyes scan us, and I get the same uncomfortable feeling that I get in Samson’s presence. Or the President’s. Like he can see right into my head and read what I’m thinking.

  “Look up!” The man frowns. “Haven’t you been taught to keep your eyes straight ahead when in the presence of a senior officer?”

  I flush and raise my eyes, focusing on a point slightly above and to the side of his shoulder. “Yes, sir!”

  “Better.” He walks over to me and stops. Now I’m staring at his chest.

  “And what did you excel in?”

  “Weapons handling … sir!”

  He moves to stand in front of Trey. “And you?”

  “Strategy, sir.”

  The man steps back and folds his arms. “And have you finished the tour?”

  “Yes, sir. I was about to escort them back to the recruits’ area.”

  “Very well. You’d better hurry if you want to eat. The mess hall is closing early tonight to allow medicals to take place before bed. You’ll receive instructions shortly.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Rogue steps to one side, pushing me back against the wall to allow the officer through. The man walks down the corridor and enters a room on the right.

  “Let’s go.” Rogue pushes open the double doors and we emerge into the wide corridor with the strange green lighting. “Time?”

  I check my wrist. “Five minutes.”

  He grunts. “We’ll have to detour via the recruits’ area. He may check my chip.”

  “Who was that?” Trey asks. There’s a tremor in his voice and his feet trip over one another as he tries to keep up.

  “My captain.”

  The man who controls you.

  I glance behind me at the door we’ve just exited. Part of it is misted up as if a face has been pressed against the glass.

  The corridor ends in a set of forbidding doors, as tall as two Metz officers. Rogue presses his hand on a pad on the right door and, with a click, it slowly swings open.

  They’re thick enough to be bombproof.

  We enter a narrow corridor that’s almost identical to the others we’ve been in except the strips on the grey walls are orange, not yellow. Rogue takes a sharp left and after ten paces stops at a round lift.

  “Quick.” He ushers us in and jams his thumb on the button.

  The lift whooshes up and a moment later we’re deposited in another corridor. Rogue leads us a short way down, then through a couple of pairs of doors to another lift.

  I check my watch. “One minute.”

  The lift feels like it takes forever to arrive. Trey taps his foot and I want to tell him to stop, but I’m just as much on edge as him. I swallow hard. Come on.

  Eventually the doors open, and the three of us cram inside. “Does this take us to the roof?” Trey asks in a cracked voice.

  Rogue nods.

  “Will you be okay? You won’t get into trouble?” I ask, turning to look up at him.

  He smiles down at me. It transforms his face from a wooden mask to something more … well, human. He reaches a hand up and, before I can stop him, gently smooths my hair. “I’ll be fine.”

  I stare up into his deep blue eyes, my feet frozen to the floor. There’s a gentle ping and the doors swish open behind us.

  “Aleesha? Let’s go.” Trey stands, holding the door to the corridor open.

  I start and tear my eyes away from Rogue’s. At least the dim lighting hides the heat rising to my cheeks. I follow Trey down the short corridor and glance down at my wrist. It’s time.

  Above us, the hatch begins to open. A cold wind rushes in. I glance back at the door behind us, half expecting a hundred Metz to burst through, but there’s just Rogue, standing with his arms folded.

  Bryn’s face appears in the opening. Backlit by the pod headlights, his hair glows like a halo around his head. His face is taut. “Quick.”

  He reaches down a hand and half pulls Trey up through the hole. I barely have time to turn and mouth a quick thank you to Rogue before Bryn pulls me up too. A gust of wind hits me as I emerge onto the exposed rooftop and I stagger to one side, the breath whipped from my mouth.

  “Come on, we’re short on time.” Bryn grabs my arm and steers me into the open door of the pod, pressing in after me, so I can’t turn around to look back.

  The door closes, and I sense the pod lift off the ground. I climb over Jameson and Trey’s legs to perch on the narrow bench. Jameson hunches over the device in his lap, beating a rhythm on his leg with the fingers of one hand.

  “And we’re out.” He leans back and runs his fingers through his hair.

  “Just in time,” Murdoch comments from up
front. “That’s the Commander’s pod over there. I hope to hell he’s not looking this way.”

  The pod turns sharply, and I nearly fall off my seat. Curling my legs up, I wrap my arms around them and rest my forehead on my knees. We made it.

  “Good job, you two. We’re going to head straight back to headquarters for a debrief.” Bryn murmurs something else to Murdoch under his breath. The atmosphere in the pod lightens, as if everyone has given a collective sigh of relief.

  I feel the adrenaline begin to seep out of my muscles, leaving them weak and limp. A dull ache from my knees. Perhaps they’ll come after us. Perhaps they’ll be waiting when we touch down. Not that I want a fight. Just something to keep the adrenaline pumping. To put off that moment when the memories of the training room spill into my head, forcing me to relive her death again and again.

  Maybe it’s not such a bad thing, to have an implant that takes away your emotions.

  “You okay?” Trey asks quietly.

  It was his father who ordered her death.

  I nod, not trusting myself to speak. I don’t want to shout at him. At least, not yet.

  Back at the Chain headquarters, Katya is waiting. She’s pacing the room, dressed in a sleek strapless dress with a long slit up the side that offers a flash of thigh every time she turns. Her face is pale under her makeup and she twists her hands over and around each other as if wringing out a cloth.

  She starts when we enter the room and waves a hand toward the table. “Sit. Report.”

  Trey speaks first, describing our journey through the compound and the training room. He skips over the report of Operation Nightshade and starts talking about the lab, but Katya holds up a hand to stop him.

  “And did you find out more about your mother’s death, Aleesha? What was her name again?”

  I start. “Maria. Maria Ramos.”

  Beside me, Bryn stiffens. Katya’s eyes flick to him and they exchange a look I can’t read.

  “What? Did you know her?” I stare at Bryn, but he stares at the table, his brow furrowed. He sighs and shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry. The name just reminded me of someone. But the Maria I’m thinking of was in another city. In Spain. Hearing the name took me by surprise. Go on.” He flashes me a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

  Another one of his lady loves?

  “Okay, well she was killed by mistake.” I take a deep breath and close my eyes for a second to try and supress the emotions churning inside me. Stay calm. Just tell the facts.

  “They were after the man she was meeting. His codename was LC100. The operation was big enough to be authorized by a government minister—” My voice breaks, but I cover it with a cough. “They were determined to capture this man. The Metz sealed off Rose Square. Lay in wait. But there was a mistake. When she ran into the square and saw how empty it was, she realized something was wrong and turned to leave. The Metz moved in and it descended into chaos from there. When my mother refused to answer their questions, they … they shot her.”

  I pause to take a breath. “That’s why the mission was confidential. It was a failure.”

  Murdoch snorts. “Nice to know even those monsters get it wrong sometimes.”

  “Yes, it seems so,” Katya replies shortly. “Did the file say which minister authorized the operation?” She glances over at Trey and the ravaged expression on his face gives her the answer.

  “Andrew Goldsmith,” I say quietly.

  I look down to see a set of curved indentations on the back of my hand, and I realize I’ve been digging the nails of my other hand into my skin. Strangely the pain calms me. Gives me something to focus on. Stops me doing what I really want to do right now, which is to fly at Trey and demand to know why his father killed my mother. Instead, I close my eyes and dig my ragged fingernails deeper into my skin.

  “I see. Thank you, Aleesha. Now, Trey, what were you saying about the lab?”

  Trey explains what the professor had told him about how the system works. I half listen while focusing on keeping my emotions in check.

  Andrew Goldsmith. His name pops into my head, accompanied by an explosion of anger that surges up my throat. The saliva in my mouth turns sour.

  This isn’t working.

  I focus instead on what Trey is saying. “They’re developing a mobile solution to the main command system. So that if one captain gets taken out, they can reassign the officers to another without them having to go back to base. Or the Commander could link directly to an officer or group of officers to give them instructions.”

  “Did he say how it worked?” Jameson interrupts. “Is it a direct implant-to-implant transmission from the Commander?”

  “I-I think that’s what they’re trying to get to. But he said they’re still working on it.” Trey screws up his face. “He said … that they’ve managed to get it to work from the device to an officer. So, they can instruct the officer using a text or voice command. But they’re still working on the direct link to the Commander. And the boosting – he said that’s an issue because of all the tall buildings.”

  “If you were high enough up, that wouldn’t be so much of a problem,” Bryn murmurs, half to himself.

  “No …” Jameson’s voice trails off. “And he didn’t give any details about the design of the device?”

  Trey shakes his head. “No, he said it was confidential. And then we had to leave in a hurry.”

  “Was there anything else you saw in the lab?” Katya looks over to me. “Anything you noticed that might be important, Aleesha?”

  I drag my eyes upward to focus on her. There was something. “I had a quick look around the lab while Trey was talking to the professor. It was mostly just desks and electronic stuff but there was a sign at the far end that pointed to some double doors. The doors were marked as ‘authorized personnel only’.” I pause.

  “And the sign?” Katya asks.

  “It said ‘Subjects’ Quarters’.” I frown. “Do you think they have other people in there? That they … test things on?”

  Katya sighs. “Probably. But that doesn’t help us for now.” She turns to Jameson, who squirms under the intensity of her gaze. “Does what Trey said help at all?”

  “Perhaps … Text control could be a solution.” But he doesn’t sound at all certain.

  Katya raises a fist but instead of slamming it down on the table, she keeps it clenched as her knuckles turn paler and paler.

  “We need to be certain,” she says eventually. “They’re planning something big.”

  Bryn’s head snaps up. “Who? The Commander?”

  “The Commander, the government … I don’t know. But he – they – feel the situation is out of control. He talked about an overwhelming show of force. To get back the respect of the people. Create order out of chaos.” Her voice is calm, but her hand is almost totally white.

  Bryn frowns. “Their authority is weakened. People have never attacked the Metz before, but now they’re having to patrol in larger groups because of the danger. And they’ve lost some officers. They need to strike back.”

  “Do you think they’re planning a Cleaning?” I ask. A familiar dread seeps through my body at the word.

  Bryn shakes his head. “A Cleaning won’t be enough. They need something bigger. Something that will stamp their authority once and for all.”

  Katya nods grimly. “Something that people can’t fight back against.”

  Bigger than a Cleaning?

  “When?” My voice comes out in a whisper.

  “Soon.”

  I trail Bryn and Trey back to Abby’s house. It’s raining, but inside the recruits’ suit I’m still wearing, I’m warm and dry. Still, it’s not a good night for being up on the roof.

  But tonight, more than ever, I want to be alone.

  As we reach the entrance to the back alley that runs behind Abby’s house, I come to a decision. But as if he can read my mind, Bryn turns and grabs my arm.

  “Come in,” he says quietly. “There’s a s
torm coming. And you shouldn’t be alone.”

  But I want to be alone.

  There’s a rumble of thunder and the rain gets heavier. A few drops seep inside the neck of my suit.

  “Please?”

  It’s the first time I’ve heard Bryn say the word, to me at least. And for once he’s not looking at me with disgust or disapproval. So I follow him down the back alley to where Trey’s waiting by the kitchen door.

  The three of us stand, dripping on the stone floor, while Abby fetches towels, pours tea and fusses over us. Trey and Bryn sit at the table, but I take my tea and curl up in the large rocking chair in the corner. Perhaps they’ll forget about me here.

  “So, Aleesha, did you find out anything more about your father?” Bryn asks.

  No such luck.

  “The man who may be my father.” I’m not sure why I bother to correct him. LC100, or Ricus Meyer, as I guess I should call him, is my father. I just know it.

  Bryn flicks his fingers impatiently. “Whatever.”

  “You do look like him a bit,” Trey comments. “Except your colouring. You take after your mother with that.”

  “What made you an expert on my genetics?” I mutter under my breath. Only Abby’s close enough to hear me and she gives me a sharp glance. I wrap both hands around my mug and take a sip of the liquid. It’s hot and tasteless.

  “So, what did he look like? Did the file say anything about his whereabouts?” Bryn prompts.

  I sigh. “Dark hair, blue eyes. Very blue eyes. Could describe anyone right? His name is Ricus Meyer. Or at least, that was the name on the file. I guess it could be fake. He wasn’t from London originally but moved there as a kid. He organized a lot of protests and stuff against the government.” I think for a moment. “He must have been a couple of years older than my mother. They don’t know where he is now or if he’s even alive.”

  “He looked young in the holo,” Trey says into the silence that follows my words.

  “Yeah, because that was taken years ago. He’ll be in his forties now,” I snap.

  Trey looks hurt. I stare down at the flakes of green leaf floating in my tea.

  “He’d still have that scar though, wouldn’t he? That wouldn’t disappear?”