by T. C. Edge
“Um…OK. How, exactly?”
“Well, you know how you communicate with me telepathically? It’s sort of like that.”
“So, what, I just think of the words or something?”
“More or less, yes. You’ll need to enter his mind and insert the order. Depending on the mind, this can be easy or hard.”
“And I guess this guy’s on the easy end of the scale,” I say, tilting my head in the Disposable’s direction. “That’s why you picked him out.”
“Yeah, precisely. You’ve gotta crawl before you can walk, Brie. This boy’s mind is weak, and easy to influence. But there’s another side of it.”
“Which is?”
“The order itself. Some orders are very basic. Others are more complicated. For example, implanting an order into a weak mind to, I don’t know, go and stand facing the wall, isn’t hard. However, if you told them to walk to the other side of town at a specific time, fetch something, and then return, that would obviously be a lot harder. There are lots of layers to determine how tricky manipulating someone like this can be.”
“Right, so for me, giving time-specific orders to Savants is likely to be on the trickier end of the spectrum, I suppose?”
“Erm, yeah. Savants generally have stronger minds. That’s kinda what they’re all about.” He clearly senses the anxiousness in me, adding: “But don’t worry, Brie, you’ve got this. Remember, keep your orders simple if you can. Then there’s less of a chance of something going wrong.”
Another lengthy breath blows from between my lips. I turn to the boy again, who’s sunk a little deeper into his hovel.
“So, what shall I try to project into him then?” I ask.
“Something simple,” he says, keeping his voice low so that he can’t be heard. “How about you just get him to walk over to me and shake my hand. Go on, give it a try.”
“Right. So, I just enter his mind and project the order, like I would if I was trying to talk with you?”
“Yep. That’s the basics of it. It may take a bit of time, but you should get there. When you’re fully trained, you’ll be able to issues orders in a flash, without them ever knowing it was you. It’s all about making them believe they came up with it, and weren’t doing something under the influence of somebody else.”
“That sounds like the hardest thing,” I say. “I mean, if the order is something they’d never do, they might just get suspicious, right?”
“True. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Brie. Go on over to him and give it a go.”
I turn to the young man, hidden under the table, and walk towards him as gently as I can. Zander stays back, watching intently as I approach and lean down to the floor. The boy recoils a little, and I stop a couple of metres away.
“Hey there,” I whisper. “I’m not here to harm you at all. What’s your name?”
He stays mostly hidden, peering out with cautious eyes. I suppose me being concealed beneath my hood isn’t helping. I make the decision to pull it down, revealing my youthful and, I hope, friendly face.
His eyes take me in, and he appears to relax a little. Around here, I doubt he’s seen any footage of me from the ceremony. I feel pretty certain he’ll have no idea who I am.
“My name’s Sarah,” I lie. “What’s yours?”
He moves out a little bit more.
“Ricky,” he says, his voice timid.
“Hi Ricky. Would you do me a favour, and just look at my eyes for a few seconds? Is that OK?”
He’s more nervous than the rest of the people we’ve encountered. Most likely, this world is newer to him.
“My friend has some food he’ll give you,” I add, tilting my head to Zander behind me. “Just look at me. Can you do that?”
Slowly, he nods, and creeps a little further from his little shack.
“Good, just stay relaxed and try not to blink too much,” I say calmly. “This will only take a minute.”
I draw in a long breath and then take the plunge, sinking into Ricky’s mind. My immediate inclination is to search his memories as I’ve been doing. It’s hard to resist the urge, fascinating as each individual is. I want to find out why he’s here, what terrible event set him on this path, and naturally find myself scanning his recent recollections.
I stop myself short before I go too deep, pulling back a little and setting my mind back to my current task. Then, I begin calling from my own mind, projecting the order I wish for him to carry out.
Walk to the man behind me. Reach out and shake his hand.
I say the words clearly, and they echo around the ethereal space in his consciousness. I repeat it several times, over and over, until I sense it starting to take hold. Gradually, the words grow louder, spreading to the depths of him, before fading out and dispersing.
I withdraw, coming back into that abandoned foyer, and Ricky’s face materialises before me again. For a few seconds, he just stares at me blankly, and I wonder if I’ve messed up another mind. But then he blinks, and I see him crawling out from between the rag curtains hanging from the table.
I move back, stepping out of his way, as he stands to his feet, revealing a tall and wiry frame. His clothes are less torn up and filthy than the others, suggesting again that his time here has been shorter, that he’s a more recent addition to this dark and dangerous world.
With his eyes now set on Zander, he begins walking towards him slowly, his hand reaching out as he approaches. I watch from the side as my brother’s lips arch into a grin, and his fingers stretch forward to take a grip of Ricky’s palm.
They shake twice, Ricky’s actions semi-robotic, before the young man turns again and moves back to his nest, disappearing inside. Zander turns to me and nods approvingly.
“Well done,” he whispers. “Very well done.”
I go back over to him, Ricky now hidden out of sight.
“How did that feel?” he asks.
“Natural,” comes my reply. “It felt…easy.”
My brother smiles again, and pulls out a few tins of beans from his backpack. He moves over to Ricky’s shack, and draws the curtains aside.
“Here you go,” he whispers. “As promised.”
As Ricky reaches out to take the first tin, I see Zander take his wrist. For a brief second, the young man’s eyes lock to my brother’s in alarm. Zander gazes into him, before letting go just as quick.
“What was that about?” I ask as he returns to me.
“He saw your face,” he says. “I just erased it.”
“Oh…”
“Don’t worry. It’s just precautionary. You just never know who the Con-Cops and Stalkers are going to round up next. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”
I turn again to the little shack, so lonely here in this cold, desolate building.
“We should take him with us,” I say. “We can’t just leave him. He’ll die out here alone.”
Zander considers it a moment, before nodding.
“OK, I’ll leave that to you. This is a test, Brie. Enter his mind again, and give him an order to follow you. Don’t try to ask him, or soothe him, with your words. Just use your powers. If you can do that, he can come with us.”
I frown at my brother. He’d use a man’s life as a test? He’d just leave him here to fend for himself if I can’t do what he’s asking?
I don’t query him. I just stiffen my resolve, set the hood back over my head, and return to the makeshift shack, gently pulling apart the curtains once more.
“Ricky,” I whisper.
I look inside and see him already scoffing on a tin of beans, hungrily scooping the contents into his mouth using a dirty paw. His eyes dart to me again, and lock in place.
I take the opportunity to rush back inside, opening the door to his mind, my words preparing to echo once more within him.
Gather your things and follow me, I order firmly. Follow me to safety.
I keep the order simple, and repeat it firmly. Once more, it echoes through the chambers of
his mind, sinking into his consciousness. I withdraw to find him staring at me as he did before, his hand hovering over the tin of beans, dripping with juice, his frame rigid as if it’s entered a temporary state of paralysis.
Then, like before, he comes back to life. I watch him as he automatically begins to gather what scant possessions he has into a bag: some spare clothes, a few bits of food, a little shiv he no doubt uses to protect himself.
Standing up and stepping back, I watch as he emerges from his shelter and moves towards me. He stands beside me, looking right into my face, an odd expression of confusion and submission written across his visage.
As I move back towards Zander, keeping watch on the threshold of the building, he unconsciously starts to follow me, like a new-born lamb sticking close to its mother.
Zander laughs lightly as I arrive.
“Bravo, sis. You’ve got him on a string.”
I can’t deny the feeling of power, of control, that begins seeping through my veins. It’s a strangely gratifying, and yet frightening, feeling, being able to influence someone else’s actions with such ease.
“Erm, so I guess we can go now?” I ask, semi-triumphantly.
I get the impression that Zander didn’t expect me to be able to complete this particular task.
“Yep, you win! Bonus points if you can get him to put this on,” he adds with a whisper, leaning in and pulling a mask from his pocket.
A few seconds later, I’ve got Ricky donning the mask and covering up his sight. Zander looks at me like I’ve just discovered fire.
“Jeez, good going, sis. You’re picking this up much quicker than I did.”
“Well, I guess it’s because I’ve got such a good teacher,” I concede.
“I do try,” he says, his hazel eyes dancing.
I laugh as we enter back into the cold, deserted streets, the sky now fully dark and the celestial light from above hidden behind thick clouds and fumes.
“So, I guess I’ll need one of those masks too then?” I say, thinking that me knowing the secret ways into the underlands around here is something Zander would rather avoid.
He shakes his head and leads me on, Ricky following like a well-trained dog just behind me.
“You know what, I think you can be trusted by now,” he says.
And that, more than anything, is a firm endorsement of my growing powers. A satisfied grin pulls up the corners of my mouth, and my eyes curve in similar fashion.
I’m really on the inside now…
14
The entrance to the underlands that we take is incredibly well concealed, and it makes perfect sense as to why the agents of the Consortium have been unable to find it. Yet, according to my brother, it’s one of many, and probably the easiest to find.
It’s into a non-descript building that we first go, passing through the dank hall and down a corridor to the back. At the end, the corridor gives way to a door, which leads into a further room, the walls made from brick and covered in peeling paint.
Zander moves to the left of the fairly generous space, filled to the brim with clutter and old furniture. Pulling aside a stack of chairs, he digs a single finger into the tiniest of holes, at the end of which lies a switch. Flicking it, I hear a click behind us, and turn to look at the opposite wall.
Zander pushes the stack of chairs back into place, moves to the other wall, and pulls out an old sofa. Behind it, a low tunnel opens up, unlocked by the switch on the other side of the room. It’s narrow and small, and capable of only being entered on your hands and knees.
“OK, in your go,” he says.
I glance at Ricky, who continues to stick silent as a shadow behind me, his vision hidden behind his mask.
“Alright then,” I say. “Ricky, follow my voice and get onto your hands and knees. We’re crawling.”
I move to the tunnel and get down on all fours. Ricky does the same, seemingly now conditioned to follow my orders when delivered verbally. As I crawl into the space, he follows right behind, bumping his shoulder and grunting on entry before worming his way inside.
A few metres in, the tunnel opens up, and I’m able to stand. I pull Ricky to his feet as Zander appears, pulling the secret door shut along with the sofa to conceal it.
I remember back to when I first entered the underlands from around this part of the city, after going to the black market. My vision was blocked, but I certainly didn’t have to crawl back then. That alone is proof that there are several entrances around these parts.
As Zander rises to his feet, I explore the place and note that we’re not quite done yet. We appear to be in another room, this one with no doors or windows. My brother fiddles around, searching for a second twitch, before finally revealing the door that leads us down to he underlands.
“Who exactly created all these passages?” I ask.
“Old rebel groups started it long ago, early forms of the Nameless before they became the more organised force they are today. We’ve been expanding on it all since, using the main rail networks underground as a starting point. I think, a long time ago, people used to live down here too, when the world was more toxic than it is now. They will have contributed as well.”
We begin moving through the new tunnel, one that feels more familiar to me. It descends down into the pitch black, making Ricky’s mask largely redundant. I tell him to take a grip of my arm and to follow right behind me. He does so, finally finding his voice.
“Where are we?” he asks quietly, his voice a soft croak.
It’s as if he’s beginning to wake from a dream, his mind starting to function a little better.
“We’re in the underlands, Ricky,” I say, turning my eyes to my brother for confirmation. He nods, letting me know I’m allowed to explain our position. “I’m taking you to safety. You won’t have to worry about other Disposables, or the Con-Cops anymore.”
He seems to take in what I’m saying, but doesn’t ask any more questions. I turn back and we continue into the depths, working through a new maze as we head northwards towards the larger caverns where the Nameless, and those they protect, dwell in the darkness.
The first signs of life come from the flickering lights, yellow and orange and glowing at the end of a long, narrow passage. When we reach the end, the sight of many fires comes into view, the space before me stretching far and wide, much more expansive than the waterfall cave I used to frequent.
I’ve travelled through here before, but only with my eyes covered. Now, the full extent of it comes into view, a sprawling space where an underground community has sprung up, living down here in the quiet and calm.
I spread my gaze around, searching for one figure among the little groups that stretch to the distance.
“Is Drum down here?” I ask.
Zander doesn’t need to answer. Sending my Hawk-eyes forward, I see the shape of a large figure in the distance, right up against the far rock wall, sitting on the outskirts of a gathering of shadows around a fire.
I turn quickly to Zander.
“Go on, I’ll catch up with you in a bit,” he says. “Don’t worry, I’ll see that Ricky gets taken in by one of the carers. He’ll be well catered to here.”
I zip in and give my brother a kiss on the cheek, telling him thanks as I move off towards the far end of the cavern. As I do, I check round to see Ricky attempting to follow, the order I gave him so ingrained that he can’t help himself. Zander holds him back, lifts up his mask, and removes the order with nothing but a glance.
I marvel at his power, and feel a tingle at the prospect of being able to do the same.
Soon, Brie, soon…
The cavern is strangely beautiful as I work across it, lit in places with the fires to give warmth and light. Built in pits, most appear to be gathering points for people to sit around. Others, however, are used for cooking, while the walls are also fixed with little torches, their flames giving shape to the entire space.
My eyes don’t need the light to function, of course, a
nd yet the contrast of the orange and yellows with the various shades of black is quite striking. Moving through little groups, I near Drum’s gathering, and see him sitting slightly beyond the fire on his own, his large frame sat on the rock floor and staring at his hands.
He looks like he did when I found him in his room, just after the deaths of Fred and Ziggy. Clearly, their passing is still weighing heavy on his mind, along with other recent events.
His eyes don’t lift to me as I come. Not until I’m right beside him does he appear to notice the presence of another person nearby. Arching his eyes up, he takes me in as he did when we saved him from the convoy only days ago, and I see those big brown irises of his widen.
“Brie!”
A bountiful smile surges up his face, and mine.
“Hey Drum,” I say as he pounces to his feet and sucks me into an embrace that might just crush me.
I tap him on the shoulder and he eases up.
“Oh…sorry…” he mumbles.
Now, it’s me who hugs him, my arms, as always, barely capable of reaching around his sides, let along his back.
“It’s so good to see you,” I say, looking up into his ample face. “How are you? Are you OK down here?”
He nods and says nothing, glancing beyond me to the people sat around the fire nearby. Then he sinks back a little into the shadows, taking me with him.
“Is something wrong?” I ask, following his gaze. “Are those people being mean to you?”
He shakes his head, lowering his voice.
“No, nothing like that. The people are nice…mostly. I got assigned here when your brother brought me down. We’re all meant to stay in certain zones, you see. This is mine.”
“Ah, I see. So, where do you sleep?”
He nods to the wall, where a little patch of old rags have been fashioned into a bed.
“That’s my one. It takes some getting used to, but it’s good. I’m lucky to even be here. You and your brother…you saved me.”
“And I’d do it again a hundred times over,” I say.
“I’m grateful. But…maybe I didn’t deserve it.”