Nameless: Book Three in the Enhanced Series

by T. C. Edge

  They all seem to take it as embarrassment, and perhaps nerves, in the face of all this attention. Only Mrs Carmichael knows the true nature of my crinkled brow and the awkward fidgeting that accompanies every kind gesture or word that comes my way.

  When we get some time alone, however, she offers some nice words of her own to soothe me.

  “I know you feel uncomfortable with all this, but you shouldn’t,” she says. “So your marriage is fake, but you should be celebrated for something far greater than that. You’re trying to save these kids, Brie. I know I have my doubt about this sometimes, but you’re doing a wonderful thing. A brave thing. And I’m proud of you.”

  Her words draw fresh tears from my eyes.

  “I’m frightened, Brenda,” I say. “I don’t know if I can…”

  She takes a firm hold of my shoulders.

  “You can, Brie. And you will.”

  Those simple words firm me up again. I blink the tears away and continue to battle through the evening until it gradually comes to a close, by which time I’m desperately seeking the solitude of my room, away from all the lies and deceit.

  Sitting on my bed together, I thank Tess once more. And once more she brushes away the gesture and reminds me that anyone who gets married, or even a housing license, gets the same treatment.

  Still, given my circumstances, I don’t feel I deserve it.

  “I have one more thing for you, though,” she says.

  Her blue eyes sparkle in the dim room. I’m so happy to see them again, to have my friend back. She stands and moves over to her bed, before bending down and pulling a storage box from under it.

  Opening it up, she draws something out and stands, holding it behind her back as she comes towards me.

  “I got something for you,” she says. “Call it a wedding gift.”

  “Tess, you shouldn’t have.”

  She steps closer, and from around her back she draws out a rectangular piece of white card. I stare at it.

  Is that…

  She spins the card over, and the faces of my parents appear before me. And me, as a baby, in their arms. It’s a little faded, as it’s always been, some of the details slightly distorted. But it shines with a new protective layer of lamination, and my eyes rise back to hers.

  There’s a hopeful smile arched across her mouth.

  “My picture,” I whisper. “But…how?”

  She reaches out and hands it to me. I take it up and inspect it slower, and feel the inevitable bubbling of tears once more. I can’t remember ever feeling as emotional as I have these last couple of days.

  “It was when I found you here, passed out,” she explains. “When I was helping Brenda patch you up, I saw your clothes. She said she was going to burn them…but I remembered your picture. I thought it might be in your jacket, so I looked. I was wet and damaged. I took it to get it restored. I was thinking of giving it to you to say sorry…”

  I stare again at the picture, and then at Tess.

  “That’s the sweetest thing…” I mumble. “The nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me…”

  “It’s nothing,” she tells me, shaking her head. “I know how much that picture means to you. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  “It is,” I whisper. “It…it means the world. Thank you…thank you so much, Tess.”

  I stand and move towards her, and pull her into an embrace, our bodies locking in the middle of the room. And having her back, part of me doesn’t want to let go. Doesn’t want to leave this place. Doesn’t want my life to change.

  But it will. I know it will.

  Tomorrow, it will change forever, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

  Either death or freedom…that’s what awaits me now.

  26

  Some days you just want to get out of the way. They’re barriers to break through, hurdles to jump over, nothing but blockages in the path towards your real goal.

  Today is one of those days. I wake early, my mind too alert to fall back to sleep. Unusually, it’s me who rises before Tess, dressing in my gritty clothes and deciding to head straight out into the cold dawn before anyone else rises.

  As far as I’m concerned, I said my goodbyes last night, and don’t need to go through them again. Maybe I’ll see my friends here again, maybe not. Either way, I can’t allow them to play any part in my thoughts right now.

  With the cool misty air hogging the streets, I decide to take a wander, leaving the academy until I’m due back before Sophie’s arrival. With my test beginning at 2PM, I can assume that she’ll come and collect me at least an hour before to give us plenty of time to get there.

  I’ll spend as much as I can out here alone, just in case Agent Woolf should come calling.

  My journey takes me all over, hoping on and off the Conveyor Line occasionally, doing a tour of the various attacks of the Fanatics. I work through them chronologically, starting with the attack at Culture Corner that started all of this off, before moving towards the factories at the eastern quarter, and ending my journey back at the main market near Brick Lane.

  Each site is in varying stages of recovery. Culture Corner, as I saw the other day, is back in decent health, although continues to be avoided by even the most avid of art lovers. The factory in the east has been cleared too, an odd patch of emptiness among the sea of factories and warehouses that dot that part of town.

  The market, however, remains in a bad state. Not only was the blast the most recent, but it was also the most devastating, tearing the central square to shreds and bringing down some of the surroundings tower blocks too.

  Standing on the outskirts, I spare a thought for a good number of people as I look upon the carnage: Fred and Ziggy, who lost their lives; Rycard, whose own life, and that of his family, has been permanently changed by the attack; the hundreds of others who died, and their friends and family who now mourn them.

  I let the anger fill and brew within my veins, soaking up every last drop of hate I can for those who inflicted such a thing on the innocent people of the city. When the time comes, I’ll use it wisely. For now, I bottle it up and store it safe, somewhere deep in the recesses of my soul.

  I only return to the academy when I have to, going over a few things in my head as I do. Mostly, I make sure to recall the details of Adryan’s life, and the features of life in Inner Haven that I’ll need to prove knowledge of.

  Sophie, of course, is there to remind me of such things. I find her already awaiting me in the foyer, pacing from side to side as I cross the threshold.

  “Goodness me, Brie, where in the world have you been!”

  “Just…walking,” I say.

  “Walking! Today of all days?! Have you packed at least?”

  “Erm…”

  “Give me strength! Come on, let’s get you sorted. We have so little time as it is.”

  I’m rushed upstairs and set about packing away the paltry number of possessions I intend to take with me. In all honesty, I never thought I’d need to bring anything, assuming that it would all be provided.

  “Well, it will, mostly,” Sophie informs me. “But what about all those clothes we bought the other day? You were just going to leave them behind were you?!”

  She’s stressed out, I can tell. To be fair, you’d have to be deaf, blind, and dumb to not work that out.

  “Sorry,” I say. “I’ve been distracted.”

  She squeezes a tight breath from her lungs.

  “It’s OK. I understand. Now come, let’s get you appropriately dressed.”

  She begins scanning the clothes we bought, before picking out something suitable for me to wear. It’s easily the prettiest garment I have: an elegant dress that hugs my frame quite nicely, which she pairs with a light summer jacket and heels.

  “It’s a bit much, isn’t it? Can’t I just wear a sweater and jeans?”

  “Brie, it’s your wedding day! You need to look the part.”

  “What, to take a test and sign a contract? No one’s eve
n going to be there to see.”

  “Look, we have no time to argue. Get dressed and I’ll pack your things. Quickly now, time is ticking.”

  She works to fold my clothes as neatly as she can, before asking me where my suitcase is. I gesture to my rotten backpack. She recoils in horror.

  “That will NOT do!”

  A few minutes later, she’s journeyed down to her car and back, bringing a rather more appropriate suitcase with her. I suppose she must carry one around with her for this very eventuality.

  With my dress and jacket on, and suitcase packed, Sophie quickly administers some light makeup and does what she can with my hair. I’ve never seen her so anxious, her anger at my nonchalance threatening to spill over.

  I can only assume that personal events at home have served to exacerbate her mood, and so try to keep my mouth shut wherever possible to keep from provoking the beast. In the end, silence appears to be the best method of placating her.

  Before leaving, I get nothing but a cursory hug from Mrs Carmichael down in the main hallway. She’s said what she needed to say already, and with Sophie present, merely whispers some final words of luck and support into my ears.

  She finishes with a palm to my cheek and, with slightly watery eyes that betray her supposed disapproval of all of this, smiles proudly and tells me I look beautiful.

  Then she swishes around and vanishes, leaving me with a stab of sadness in my heart as I watch her depart with a lingering look.

  Then, out of the academy we go, a sense of numbness engulfing me for a time as we enter Sophie’s car and start heading towards Inner Haven. I hardly hear her as she speaks, running through a final few things that I might need to know about the process of the day.

  Even now, with so much difficulty in her own life, with so much doubt and fear, she’s still doing her job. Still working to satisfy the duty she’s been assigned.

  It’s how those in power continue to exist for so long, unchallenged by the people. They set them their tasks and give them some limited version of true freedom, just enough to demand compliance and obedience.

  Over generations, habits are formed and people begin to be born into their roles, creating endless loops and self-fulfilling prophecies. The powerful gain more control and influence, and the weak begin to rely on them, believing them their saviours and protectors, the only ones who can create a safer, more prosperous world.

  Sophie is a prime example of it all. I can sense the fear in her, the nagging tug at her heart, that endless pain inside her that won’t ever go away. Not unless she’s freed from the invisible constraints that shackle her, her eyes opened to a world beyond the one she’s been presented.

  I feel such a weight on me to help her, to help everyone I see as we drive through the streets. Each day that passes I learn more, the shroud of lies fading before my eyes and revealing the terrible truth of what this world has become.

  And now, I’m going right to the heart of that world, right to its core. It’s a thought that both frightens and excites me. For better or worse, something is going to give.

  I don’t ask Sophie about Rycard as we move through the city. I can sense it in her, dipping into her mind any time she glances at me. He’s not good, and I know that. And I know, too, that she doesn’t want to talk about it. That much would be clear enough without my ability to read her thoughts.

  Like with so many other things, she’s grown adept at forcing such concerns to the back of her head, compartmentalising the various facets of her life. Right now, she should be at home with him. But she’s not. She’s here with me, doing her duty. Because if she doesn’t, the consequences would be dire.

  That is the ruthless nature of the Savants. The callous cost of being ruled by those without proper emotion, without the ability to fully empathise with the concerns of the common people of this city. Those who rely on logic alone to determine the course of their actions.

  In the end, the species may prosper; humans, however altered by our own science and ambition, might once again gain dominion over the country, the planet. But along the way, so much will be lost, and so many innocent people will die.

  In the end, the Consortium are battling with the Nameless for the soul of this world.

  And I’m right at the heart of that too…

  My approval test is set to be held within the building next to Compton’s Hall, where this part of my journey started. It was only a few weeks ago that I met Adryan there for the first time at the bachelor ball, when I passed out in such spectacular fashion as my powers began to manifest.

  It stands to reason that my journey should come full circle, and conclude right here as well. If ever I get to stop and think for more than a few minutes, I’ll probably wonder just how all this has happened so quickly.

  Hopefully, the next stage of my journey will be equally swift…

  Compton’s Hall, of course, is a bland structure, and the neighbouring building equally so. Smaller, and attached to the grander hall’s left flank, it’s merely intended for the testing of suitable candidates to ensure they’re fully committed to entering into a life here in Inner Haven.

  I’ll give the Savants one thing: they are very thorough in what they do.

  For most girls, the process is a fairly long-winded one. Firstly, they have to be officially scouted. Then, they’re required to go through tests to ensure they’re the right ‘calibre’ of woman, whatever that means. Then, they need to present themselves to the bachelors and hope for a match. After that, the courting process is initiated, and they need to impress their match sufficiently for them to apply for them to take the approval test.

  Finally, should they pass the test, they’ll be allowed to marry their chosen man. Or, I should say, the man who chose them.

  It’s a fairly extensive method of picking only the most suitable flowers to plant in these colourless gardens. A method that, mercifully, I have largely sidestepped through the fast-tracking provided by Adryan’s position of rank around these parts.

  And right here is where it all culminates. Nothing but a formality, really, to weed out those final rotten eggs who might, by some miracle, have slipped through the net so far. I’m certainly one of them, and were it not for my special gifts, I’d most likely fail this test.

  With Sophie’s car pulling to a stop on the street, close to the centre of the city, she steps out and hurries me towards the entrance. A check of my watch tells me that it’s 1.58PM, with my test due to start in only a couple of minutes.

  In a rush, I’m dragged through the main door and into a reception room. A woman sits behind a blank desk, its electronic surface dancing with words and numbers as she flicks files and notes around on the touch-screen.

  Our loud and sudden interruption causes her to slowly lift her eyes to us. I see that several other girls, dressed similarly to me, are waiting nervously in a seating area off to one side.

  Sophie strides for the desk, trying not to pant in a bid to maintain her dignity.

  “I’m here with Brie Melrose. She has her approval test at 2PM,” she says with a cringe. “Sorry for being so late…”

  The woman’s fingers tap and swipe a few times, bringing up a schedule to confirm my appointment.

  “Yes, Brie Melrose, 2PM,” she says. Her eyes lift to mine. “You can go right through, Miss Melrose. Room 4 down the hall.”

  Her attention returns to her work, and Sophie quickly spins me into the shortest hug of my life.

  “Good luck,” she says hurriedly. “I’ll be waiting out here for you. Quickly, go, go…”

  She gives me a little shove in the direction of the corridor. I barely have a second to think or get my mind in gear as I begin moving towards room 4. When I reach it, I take a breath and knock. A voice calls me in.

  I find a woman sitting behind a small table in an otherwise empty room, which immediately brings back memories of Agent Woolf’s horrible interrogation lair. It’s a theme of this place that I’m struggling to get used to. No room seems to c
arry any life at all, no embellishments to give it some character.

  This one is no different, and the woman awaiting me fits it perfectly. She offers no expression as I enter, but merely tells me to take a seat in front of her. I do so, and see that her table is also an interactive screen, lines of questions set out for me to answer.

  I try to break the ice by telling the woman I’m sorry if I’m late. She ignores me completely and merely says: “Let’s get started.”

  As I’ve been told, the test is little more than a formality, my knowledge of Adryan and Inner Haven tested. Mostly, given how Savants here really have so little interesting life experience and character, the questions that come regarding Adryan are extremely basic. Honestly, there’s so little they can actually ask about him.

  The part of the test that focuses on life in Inner Haven is a little harder, if only for me to convince the woman that their procedures and etiquettes appeal to me. Firstly, she merely asks questions, and gauges my responses carefully as I speak, ticking boxes at appropriate points when she’s satisfied.

  Then, when she needs further confirmation, she sets about exploring my thought patterns, verifying her status as a Mind-Manipulator. It’s at this point that the test truly begins. Lying is easy enough for many people, but there’s no method for most to keep their true thoughts and feelings at bay in the face of this sort of mental exploration.

  I am, however, not most people, and my sparring with both Zander and Agent Woolf have set me up perfectly for this bout. This particular woman is, quite frankly, not as gifted as they are. I suppose this job doesn’t call for deep mental extraction, but merely a surface view of things, a quick check to see if any particular participant is lying.

  I have no trouble dealing with it, happily projecting thoughts and feelings of total obedience to both Inner Haven and Adryan. I sit there with an inane smile on my face that she probably doesn’t realise is completely false, and use my trickery to dumfound her.

  Oh, I love it here. Ever since I first came here for the ceremony, I’ve desperately wanted to live here. I can’t wait to be here full time, and to marry Adryan. I am completely devoted to him, and will give him wonderful Savant children…