Immediately, he became a bit defensive, because that didn’t exactly sound normal. Wasn’t that what the chips were supposed to protect the humans from? Not being influenced by Meta power?
He needed to get out of here as quickly as possible. Some Meta surely had found a way around the chips.
He wasn’t about to be washed up in the magic that must still be lingering in the air. He started moving through the crowds, avoiding contact with as many people as possible, though this time of evening in Main City, every being seemed to be here.
Made it hard to figure who might be trying to manipulate free will. He wondered what it was--a spell? A smell? A sound? What could go against the chips? It would have to be something--
“Oh, excuse me,” a woman said.
Luke jerked. He’d about run over another Human. Well she looked Human enough, but that didn’t mean anything. Not here. He’d already seen far too many Metas that looked Human.
They always had some kind of air to them. He could almost sense them--an aroma, or something seemed to linger.
This woman, though, he wasn’t sure what she was. Most Metas didn’t recoil when they walked--their natural arrogance tended to leave them all standing taller than they needed to. This one, though, her shoulders were slumped and she sort of cowered away from him.
But she stared at him with the strangest expression. Like she trembled, but she was curious.
He wanted to tell her to forget about him. That he wasn’t worth paying attention to. He didn’t want to be remembered.
Ever.
Yet he felt it in his bones, that she saw him. All of him. And that bothered him a lot. Humans and Metas had been afraid of him for a very long time. Now he just wanted them to leave him alone.
“I’m sorry,” he made himself say. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“No, I was in a hurry,” she said, looking away. She started fiddling with her hair as she sort of matched his pace, but kept out of reach.
Why that bothered him, he wasn’t sure. He’d always had people afraid of him. This shouldn’t be different.
Yet for some reason it was. He wondered if she knew who he was. Would explain her posture, for certain.
When she glanced at him this time, she really looked at him and her whole demeanor changed.
She stood up straighter, her eyes widened, and she blinked.
Exactly twice.
Very deliberate, like she was trying to process him.
He nodded to her, and turned to walk away.
“Wait,” she said, and she reached to touch him, her hand mere inches from him.
He recoiled. “I need to go.”
“Please,” she said.
And something about that word jarred him. Two sides within him went to war. That bit of humanity left wanted to know what she wanted. The soldier, however, felt a trap starting to close around him, and he needed to get out of there as soon as possible.
He backed away.
Almost ran over someone else, but he kept going.
She took a couple steps toward him. “Wait. I know you…”
Her words faded away as he fled as fast as he could. He didn’t want to know why that woman knew him.
It couldn’t be good.
Chapter Seven
Mori watched the man back away, and she stood there, her hand outstretched, still reaching for him.
Yet he faded into the crowds, disappearing like smoke into the air. She took a couple steps toward him because she felt this immediate need to follow him, to touch him.
To see if she was wrong.
Because she tried to avoid everyone all the time.
Yet she’d run into him.
Him… She wanted to know who he was. She needed to know because she knew him. Or rather, his essence.
Why, she wasn’t sure yet, but she felt it deep in her being. It wasn’t like when she gleaned a prediction for someone. This was much different. It was a connection that she couldn’t explain away.
Something that she, as a Valkyrie, had never felt before.
She followed him through the crowd, though slowly, because she didn’t want to be distracted by others as she walked. She made her way to a sidewalk where it wasn’t so crowded, and started looking for him again.
Oh, how she wished she still had her wings! In the air, she could have spotted him in a moment, and she would not worry about accidentally touching anyone else.
Perhaps she really did need Ula to make her some kind of suit.
The man could not have gotten too far. While to her he was distinct, he still had dark hair, dressed in gray, and blended in enough with the crowds that she kept thinking she saw him from the back, but it would not be.
In a moment, though, her pursuit paid off, for she spotted him. His mouth moved and she guessed he was taking a call. He glanced around--though he didn’t seem to be looking for her--but his gaze halted on her for a brief second.
She felt it again.
This time without any touch.
She knew him.
She could feel his essence from where she stood, fifty yards away.
Who was he? Was he some kind of Meta? Did he have some sort of influential power that was affecting her?
As a Valkyrie, she hadn’t had to get the implant behind her ear to protect her from the mental powers of other Metas. She should be able to sense those things.
Yet here she was, and wondered if she was under some sort of Meta spell. Was there some kind of love spell running amuck?
Because she couldn’t help being curious about who he was.
If he felt anything on his end, it was minimal, because he continued his search as though he’d never seen her.
Then whoever he’d been looking for, he found, because he nodded. Though he waited for no one, instead, he turned and walked away yet again.
How odd, she mused as she followed him. The crowds were still somewhat heavy--it was prime evening meal time, after all--but since she’d spotted him, she was determined to figure out who he was.
He continued to weave through people, and she noticed he gave Metas a wider berth than Humans.
Again, she wondered about his reasoning. Who was he? What kind of species was he? If he were Meta, she should have felt some kind of vibe--
The strong smell of tension and violence began to permeate the common area, jarring her attention.
Mori tore her gaze from the man, and looked for the battle that brewed in the air.
A team of Intra officers walked through, glancing around the common area. Did they sense the building tension too?
Or was their presence causing it?
They were getting closer, and one of them looked familiar. Then she realized it was the woman who’d checked her in, the one who’d let her keep her hair sticks. Mori nodded to her, smiling a little--that’s what humans did, correct? Smiled at one another in order to acknowledge each other.
That sounded accurate.
The officer glanced at her as they walked by.
From the crowd, there was a shout, and the Intra officers jumped into action.
The female officer bumped Morrigan.
It wasn’t much.
But it was enough.
Mori stared at the woman. The officer only gave her a passing glance as she headed toward the shouting, drawing her crowd control weapons. In her eyes, something dark lingered there, and that darkness tried to bubble to the surface.
The same darkness that littered the vision dancing behind Mori’s eyes.
She felt sick.
Chapter Eight
“It was bad,” Mori said to Ula, clutching the small, decorative pillow Ula had on her couch, though she hoped she didn’t rip it apart with her tight grip. She’d never had a vision like that one--so filled with venom and hatred.
And so defined.
Not a vague emotion, but defined, with purpose. A plan. A very intricate plan. Mori’s head hurt just thinking about it all.
“Ho
w bad?” Ula asked as she shifted position on the couch, and pulled another pillow into her lap.
“Ula, they’re going to kill someone,” Mori said. Though that was putting it very mildly.
“But, they can’t do that. They’re Intra. They’re supposed to protect everyone.’
“I know.”
“And how did you glean that? Don’t those chips protect Humans from Metas touching their minds?”
“I don’t know. They should have.” But they didn’t, and that was a far bigger problem. If casual touch would expose even the deepest darkest secrets, then Mori would have a very difficult time not touching anyone for the rest of her stay in the Complex.
She squeezed the pillow again.
The pain had subsided from the vision, finally.
While Morrigan hadn’t spewed it to the person she’d gleaned it from, sharing this with Ula seemed to work in this case.
But truly, what else could she have done? Gone after the Climintra officer? And repeated the plan to her?
The officer would have shot her where she stood. No doubt in Mori’s mind.
“Well, you have to report it,” Ula said.
“To who? If I go to Intra--”
“They will take care of it. It’s what they do,” Ula said. “I was just reading a file today--”
“A file you were supposed to see?” Mori asked.
“That’s beside the point.”
“And the point is?”
“That Climintra’s having to watch out for this stuff. Human First is trying to ruin the Complex. So are some Meta terrorist organizations. They all want to see this fail.”
The sick feeling wouldn’t leave Mori, no matter what she did. Maybe they were right. Maybe Humans and Metas could not coexist. “Maybe it should.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“If they’re working this hard to ruin each other, then maybe Humans and Metas don’t belong together. Maybe we should be on separate worlds and just be done.” She ran her hand over her head, and felt the sticks bundled in her hair. Her weapons.
Even she wasn’t unarmed here in the Complex.
Was she any better than the woman she’d gleaned the vision from? She was prepared for battle--while she didn’t have much of her Valkyrie powers left, she had a little bit. And the visions never had anything to do with being Valkyrie.
Was she any different from those who wanted to war?
But wasn’t that why she and everyone else in the Complex had come? To not be at war? To end the destructive conflict between the races? She had nothing else left in Valhalla. At least when she left here, she’d be an Ambassador of peace instead of a goddess of war.
Ula raised her eyebrow. “And what are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know.” If she went to Climintra, would they do anything? Would they care? It was one of their own.
Were they behind Human First all together?
She wasn’t certain.
And that was something she truly hated about her current state--not exactly Valkyrie, not quite Human.
“You can’t just sit by. A woman’s going to die if you just hang onto this information. Surely that has to mean something.”
Mori nodded. “It does.”
~*~*~
The Climintra officer didn’t believe a word of Morrigan’s story.
He’d sighed three times, rolled his eyes twice, and now he was just staring at her like he expected more.
But what else could she give him? It was a vision. Not actual evidence. And the more she thought about it the more she wondered if she had been foolish for coming to Intra to tell them about this.
“I told you what I know,” Mori said.
“Yeah. You did. But no name. No race. Nothing. You just said the target was a female Meta. Do you have any idea how many of those we have here?”
“She was an ambassador during the peace talks at the end of P-Extinction. She was important,” Mori said, her voice raising with the last words.
“But you don’t know who the target is. So what good is it to me?”
“I can identify her. I can see her face.”
“With what? You going to draw her or something?”
“I am sure I could find her in a holographic lineup. There weren’t that many ambassadors there at the end.”
The man paused, sigh dying on his lips, and he looked away for a second, then back at her.
“Do you know how many people there are here? There’s over a hundred thousand residents and workers. You don’t even know if she’s here. It could have been a memory, not a vision.”
“I can certainly tell the difference between a memory and a vision of the future.”
He waved his hand. “I don’t have the time or the resources to find your precious target. Besides, how do I know you’re not the attacker and using this as a way to cover your tracks?”
“Me? I’m reporting my vision.”
“Pbbt,” he huffed. “And what good is a vision? You damn Metas and your visions. They don’t do us any good without facts. Why can’t you all get it through your heads? Futures can be changed. Don’t you know that?”
Unfortunately, she knew that better than most. “What do you want? Holograms? Just check the cameras in the areas I told you about. I am certain they don’t function.”
He snorted. “Already did sweetheart. They all work just fine.”
She shook her head. “They can’t. I… They should be disabled, to hide the attack. That was in the plans already.” And she’d seen them being disabled.
“And how would you know what the plans were?”
“Just, just what I saw.”
“Uh huh. Maybe you need to tell me everything. And try the truth this time,” the officer said. “Like who you’re working for. And why you’re trying to hang this on them.”
“I’m not working for anyone. I am here because a crime is about to be committed, and you all need to be prepared. A woman’s life is in danger. An important woman.”
“An important woman whose name you don’t know.”
“Right.”
“Uh huh.” He leaded back, his chair rocking. “Now that you’re done with your story, you can tell me the truth. Like who’s really behind this. And what your affiliation is with Human First.”
Her eyebrow went up. “I never mentioned Human First. And why would I be a part of a terrorist group that kill Metas?”
“Who else would want to kill Metas?”
“You. Me. Anyone. Killing is not limited to terrorists. Anyone can lift a weapon and strike someone down.”
“Is that so?”
“Of course it is. And you know that,” she said, glaring at the officer. Her words must have struck some kind of chord with him, because he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, so Morrigan pressed. “Now bring me what I need to identify this woman and save her life.”
Like a switch, the man’s uncomfortable posture shifted, and he returned to his resistant expression, like whatever had made him stumble before was gone. “I don’t believe your story. I think you’re here to throw off the trail. Blame this on someone else, so when the attack happens--”
“So you believe there will be an attack,” Mori said. “You just said you didn’t believe me.”
He opened his mouth to say something else, when the door opened.
In came another Intra officer. “That’s enough. I think she’s done here.”
The officer glared at her. “Yes ma’am, Climintra Dumol.”
She nodded as the man walked out.
Dumol smiled at Mori. “Thank you for your report. I’ve already logged it into the database and we’ll be keeping an eye out for any issues.”
“That’s it? You don’t want me to identify the woman?”
“We have it under control,” Dumol said. “I ask you to forgive Officer Charz. He, unfortunately, has to listen to case reports all day, and almost all are fake.”
“How so?” Mori asked, an uneasy feeling s
preading over her. The room suddenly took on a hard chill.
Dumol shrugged. “People who want attention, blame their partner, or even ex-partner for fake things. Metas who are mad at Humans, or vice versa. You cannot imagine the number of fake reports that we see on a daily basis.” Dumol gestured with her hand. “Come. I’ll escort you out.”
Mori nodded. “Thank you.”
Dumol held the door for her, and as Mori walked through, pain hit her, and everything went dark.
Chapter Nine
“What the hell do you spray in here, Cadell?” Dumol asked, glancing around his tiny place. Tucked inside the inner ring of the temperate tower, he had the cheapest little suite possible, though calling it a suite made it sound like a palace.
It was mostly a room with a bed, a waste disposal area, a place to wash off, and a small kitchenette to prepare food. Most everything--food wise, though--had to be purchased in Main City. Or bought, if one had access, directly from the farms.
Cadell had access.
So, his apartment smelled like fruit, because he regularly bought fresh fruit to eat, a luxury that he’d never had during the war.
“It’s fruit,” he said, picking up a banana. “Want one?”
She shook her head. “We have a problem.”
He raised his eyebrow. “We don’t have anything. You have a problem and I have to fix it? Is that more accurate?”
She gestured between the two of them. “We do. Mission has been compromised.”
Cadell grimaced about what was coming. Certain it wouldn’t be pretty, but he knew it. It was why he was here.
Rather, why Human First wanted him here. After all, he was the clean-up guy. The Butcher of P-Extinction never left any survivors.
So his reputation said.
“How did you fuck this up? Weren’t you supposed to be selling contraband back to the residents? You shouldn’t need me.” They’d only been in the Complex a few months, and already shit was getting ugly?
“I have more than one objective.”
“Oh great. Were you going to share them with me?”
“Need to know.”
“Kinda think I need to now.”
“Not really.” Dumol held up a hologram of a woman bound in a chair, head bobbed over to the side, body limp.
Unclaimed (The Complex Book 0) Page 4