The Enhanced Series Boxset

by T. C. Edge

  When the doors open, I feel a renewed set of nerves as the sprawling floor appears before me. Stepping forward, I begin venturing towards the centre of the level, where a grouping of comfortable chairs and tables have been set out for casual meets.

  Surrounding them, various cafes and shops and restaurants, all self service, spread out to the boundary of the building, partition walls set up between them to give a measure of privacy while also maintaining the largely open feel to the level.

  The place isn’t as busy as yesterday, perhaps owing to the time, and yet still contains enough Savants to put me on edge. They drift about in their usual manner, dressed in their slightly different shades of grey.

  I assume that most of those wearing the lighter grey colours live here, while those in the marginally darker shades probably live outside the building and merely come here to work. Nevertheless, it would appear that these communal levels are open to all Savants, whether they live here or not. The same cannot be said for the rest of the Enhanced.

  None of their kind live here, of course, although some do operate here on a working basis. It would appear that certain roles require their unique skills, with security being primary among them.

  In a sense, I’m surprised to see members of the City Guard dot the place, dressed in their grey-black uniforms and well stocked with weaponry. Savants, after all, aren’t exactly predisposed to committing crime. Any sort of criminal activity is triggered by some emotion – greed, anger, fear, hate – and that’s something the inhabitants of this place are sorely lacking.

  I suppose it’s more a measure of protection against the threat of the Nameless, as well as to provide aid in the case of accidents. Nevertheless, the security numbers, from what I’ve seen so far, appear to be fairly sparse.

  It’s one of the few positive things I’ve noted since I arrived. Their perceived lack of vulnerability may turn out to be a great boon for me and my mission.

  As I near the centre of the level, my eyes find the rare shades of blue amid the greys and silvers and metallic hues. There, sitting rigidly in chairs and talking quietly, I see the two women I’m here to meet.

  A quick inspection tells me that one is older than the other, but neither are ancient. The older woman appears to be in her early forties, with the younger one maybe a decade or so her junior.

  The initial judgement I make is that both are similarly inclined as Sophie, their lives here turning them semi-robotic. It’s a snap call that takes their posture and seemingly false expressions as inspiration.

  As I near, their eyes quickly find me, however, and smiles appear on their faces. Again, they remind me of my liaison; half genuine, half artificial.

  The older woman, her hair a mousy blonde and eyes blue, steps forward first, and reaches out to accept my hand.

  “Well, you must be Brie Shaw,” she says, applying my husband’s name. “My name is Mary Spencer, and I’m very pleased to meet you.”

  “Um, likewise, Mrs Spencer, it’s my pleasure.”

  “Oh please, let’s dispense with the pleasantries and use our first names from now on.”

  “I totally agree, Mary,” says the other, younger woman, her hair a similar colour and style but her eyes a more daring brown. She steps forward and extends her hand. “My name’s Lucinda Paulson, but please do call me Lucy. Welcome to the High Tower, Brie. And more importantly, welcome to our rare breed here.”

  The two women laugh somewhat mechanically. They must be talking about us being Unenhanced. I guess it’s nice to know that they haven’t entirely given up on their roots.

  The manner in which they speak, and behave, however, is evidence that this place has influenced them. It’s obvious enough that they’re not Savants, but they’re making a decent fist of imitating them with their staring eyes and rather mechanical manner of movement.

  I guess it’s something I should try to mimic too. The better I can fit in, as Adryan told me, the easier my time here will be.

  With our brief greetings concluded, the women lead me over to a nearby café to fetch some coffee. Using the self-service machinery in place, they dispense the drinks into unpleasant metal flasks and return to me, sitting me down at a table in a fairly open area of the level.

  I’d rather head off to the corners, where it’s less exposed, but seem to have no choice in the matter.

  “So, Brie, tell us a little about yourself,” says Mary. “We both saw you at the ceremony recently, so know bits and pieces, but would love to know more.”

  They look at me eagerly, passing me the stage. Feeling rather uncomfortable – I’ve never much liked the limelight, whether with a couple of people or an entire crowd – I set about explaining my past in the sparsest way possible.

  As I do, however, I realise that it will be a good way to find out about these women. And, most importantly, Mary Spencer and her husband.

  Once I’m done, therefore, I turn the attention on them.

  “So, how about you, Mary, how long have you lived here?”

  That’s my first question, and one I hope will open the door to many more. She smiles with that put-upon look and sets about offering an answer.

  “Oh, I’ve been here for many years,” she starts. “Back since the days when marrying up was far less common than it is now. Somehow, I found myself under the admiring eye of a Savant, which was even rarer back then. I was, as it happens, the first Unenhanced to marry up into the High Tower. Would you believe it!”

  “And doesn’t she let us know it at any given opportunity,” adds Lucy with a little roll of the eyes that makes me readjust my initial judgement of these women. Clearly, they have some humour at least.

  “Well, it’s quite my claim to fame,” says Mary proudly. “Although Brie here has her own, what with your performance after that terrible attack at Culture Corner. I haven’t been there in some time, but used to enjoy it when I lived in the southern quarter. Tell us, Brie, how is it over in Outer Haven? I hear the people are living in fear for their lives. Such a terrible thing…”

  You don’t know the half of it...

  “We’ve had a few difficult weeks. It’s certainly very different there to here,” I say, spreading my eyes around the floor.

  “Indeed it is,” says Lucy. “Unlike this old dinosaur here, I lived in Outer Haven far more recently, so my memory of moving here is a fair bit clearer. Although, it’s still been nearly…what, eight years now…wow, how time flies,” she adds.

  I can tell that Lucy is the more playful of the two. Clearly, this place hasn’t quite drummed that out of her yet.

  “It’s a fine place to live, though, Brie, once you get the hang of things,” says Mary. “We’re both here to help you transition if you need us.”

  She smiles again, and I see an opening.

  “Thank you,” I say. “Perhaps, um, we could have dinner sometime with our husbands? I’d dearly like to make friends quickly, if possible. You know, to stave off the homesickness…”

  Her expression exudes a mix of tiny emotions, which a quick dart into her thoughts clarify. First, it’s obvious that asking to have dinner with another couple is an unusual request, particularly with someone you’ve just met. More powerful, however, is her feeling of understanding at my need to find people on a similar wavelength to me.

  It’s obvious that Mary went through something similar when she first came here, and still battles with it to this day. Being the first Unenhanced to come live here, I can only imagine how hard it must have been for her. And it’s written right there across her thoughts right now.

  So when she answers, I get what I’m looking for. And I didn’t even need to manipulate her…

  “Oh…of course, Brie,” she says. “I’d be delighted to host you and Mr Shaw.”

  “So would I,” adds Lucy, clearly not wanting to be left out. “We’re both here to help, Brie.”

  I thank both ladies for their kindness, although the offer from Mary is the only one that interests me.

  And with t
he first, albeit simple, stage of my latest task complete, I set about relaxing a little bit more.

  More questions begin to flow from my tongue, and I enter into the conversation with a little more conviction. Naturally, my interest is in discovering more about life here, particularly pertaining to the summit of the building and those that rule us.

  “So, does Director Cromwell ever come down?” I ask as casually as I can manage. “I’ve heard the members of the Consortium rarely venture beyond the summit.”

  “Well, he was there for your celebration ceremony,” says Mary, steepling her fingers and arching her eyes to the ceiling in thought. “Before then…hmmm, Lucy, any ideas?”

  Lucy considers the question, equally pensive.

  “I think he appeared a few years ago, during the re-opening of some building…” she starts.

  Jeez. Years…

  “Hmmmm, what was it,” she continues. “Ah yes, the City Guard Headquarters, that’s it. He was, after all, the Commander of the City Guard before he took up the Director’s chair.”

  Interesting. I guess that makes sense, what with his Darwinian way of thinking. The strong rule the weak and all that. Any Commander of the City Guard is likely to think along such lines.

  “Ah yes,” says Mary. “That’s right. The entire Consortium were there. I have heard that Commander Fenby is going to be coming down soon as well to address the City Guard, given what’s been happening recently.”

  “Commander Fenby?” I ask. “He’s the Commander of the City Guard now, is he?”

  “Oh yes, and a member of the Consortium. He’s been Commander for some time now, many years. He liaises often with Deputy Commander Burns, who handled your ceremony. Obviously, you’ve met him…”

  Yeah, more than a few times.

  “So he’s coming down to speak to the City Guard? When?” I ask.

  “Oh, a few days’ time I believe,” answers Mary. “He’ll most likely address them in the main square outside the High Tower, from the balcony. The same one the Consortium watched from during your ceremony. I have to say, Brie, it must have been such an honour for you to have seen them all when you accepted that plaque. It’s obvious that they’re attempting to put on a united front with all these attacks going on in Outer Haven.”

  It takes everything I have not to huff loudly and blurt out the truth. I have to bite my tongue just to stay silent.

  “But yes, the other 11 members of the Consortium venture down here occasionally,” concludes Lucy. “Especially if there’s some important event going on regarding their particular area of expertise. The Director, however, primarily keeps to the summit. Why the interest, anyway, Brie?”

  I shrug as nonchalantly as I can, and put on a false smile.

  “Oh…I’m just eager to learn all about this place,” I say. “I think that’s important if I’m going to be living here.”

  They nod their understanding, and I have to look away to avoid making further eye contact, my mind swimming with such different thoughts. I spread my gaze across the level, time now ticking along towards lunch, and feel a jolt of nerves stab at my core at the sight that greets me.

  Short grey hair. Check.

  Black eyes. Check.

  A rigid, upright, robotic walk. Check.

  Agent Romelia Woolf is walking right towards me.

  82

  The change in my disposition is immediate, and enough to garner some concern from my new companions.

  “Are you OK, Brie,” says Mary. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Yes, you’ve gone all pale,” adds Lucy. “What’s wrong?”

  I avert my eyes quickly from Agent Woolf as she covers the space between us, looming larger with every passing second. Yet, the two women have clearly noted the direction of my gaze, and turn to review the incoming lady for themselves.

  Clearly, they’re aware of who she is, her reputation preceding her.

  “Agent Woolf,” mumbles Mary quietly, turning back to me. “Have you had some dealings with her?” she queries.

  I nod in abbreviated fashion.

  “She was investigating a boy from my academy,” I say, head low. “Have you ever had a Mind-Manipulator in your head?”

  The two women provide the same answer. “Only briefly,” they say.

  “It’s not pleasant, is it,” I add.

  They both shake their heads.

  My sunken countenance is plenty to get them onside, and perhaps help me ingratiate myself further with them. Lucy reaches across and grabs my arm, setting a firm expression on her face.

  “It’s OK, Brie, I’m sure she’s just coming to say hello.”

  I very much doubt that…

  We don’t have to wait too long to find out. Within moments, the flat disposition of Agent Woolf is upon us, the woman swaying her eyes across our little gathering before zeroing in on me. The atmosphere she brings along for the ride is enough to set a chill to our little table.

  Naturally, however, the two women beside me are required to rise to their feet and perform the little bow of courtesy that begins all such greetings. After all, they’re only Unenhanced, and Agent Woolf is a high ranking Savant.

  They don’t say anything, however, and wait to be spoken to, if at all. The agent clearly sees no need whatsoever in wasting her time.

  Instead, her shark-eyes fix on me and refuse to leave, and I’m forced to also stand and bow in her direction, much as it pains me to do so. As soon as I make eye contact, I can feel her creeping into my mind, surveying my thoughts. And right now, I’m still thinking about Commander Fenby, the Consortium, and most importantly, Director Cromwell.

  “Good afternoon, Brie,” begins Agent Woolf with her usual dry tone. “It seems your courtship with Mr Shaw was a swift affair.”

  I nod but don’t answer, trying to avoid her death-stare.

  “How are you finding it here in the High Tower?” she continues, turning to a question that requires a verbal response. “This must be, what, your second day here?”

  “Yes, Agent Woolf,” I say. “I got married yesterday. I like it here…”

  I’m too flustered to deceive her, to set such thoughts into my head. With a flash of momentary eye contact, I know she can see the truth. See that I’m not enjoying it here at all.

  I look away again, and try to compose myself.

  “Congratulations on your marriage,” drones Agent Woolf. “I’m sure you’ll find your place here eventually. Perhaps you could become a carer in one of the nurseries?”

  She delivers the questions with some disdain, her eyes once more passing over Mary and Lucy. For all her distinct lack of emotion, her contempt for the Unenhanced is something that is clearly inbuilt in her empty shell of a body.

  “Don’t the two of you work in the nurseries?” the agent continues, looking to my two compatriots.

  Mary is the one to answer: “Yes, Agent Woolf, that’s correct.”

  “Well, it’s good to see that the next generation of Savants is in such good hands.”

  There’s a growing arrogance about her, clearly displayed by the total lack of warmth to her words. The two ladies cower a little, receding into their shells as the agent dips into their minds, no doubt feeling their thoughts of fear and dislike towards her.

  If anything, I suspect that helps feed her. It’s probably exactly how she wants to be viewed.

  Her eyes swing back to mine.

  “Well, Brie, I’m sure that would be a role suited to you,” she says. “As long as you become a permanent resident here, that is.”

  Her eyes shine a little brighter as she concludes the sentence. I hold my focus and stop from entering her mind, despite a desperation to do so. Does she know something? Has she seen something?

  “That’s the plan,” I say. “I’d be honoured to work in the nurseries. What better calling than to help nurture the next generation?”

  I turn to Mary and Lucy with a smile, a bid to help make them relax and show them, unequivocally, that
I’m on their side and willing to come to their defence.

  “That’s good to hear, Brie.” Woolf’s words are positively oozing now. “I won’t keep you from your discussion, though.” She turns to leave, before swivelling abruptly. “One more thing, Brie. I’m sure you know this already, but there’s a brand new directive that’s only just come into service. It will require your immediate attention.”

  My pulse thunders momentarily.

  “What directive?”

  “Well, the risk of hybrids has become such a burden recently, that the Consortium have seen fit to test every new resident of the High Tower, and Inner Haven in general, for their genetic work…”

  My heart nearly stops. It takes every fibre of me to maintain my composure.

  “You see, some people have old Enhanced blood that they don’t even know about flowing through their veins. It may never manifest, but it’s always possible that a child may be passed the genes, and end up a hybrid. Of course, I’m sure you have nothing to worry about, but you will need to be checked nonetheless.”

  She works up the slightest hint of a satisfied smile.

  She knows something. She has to…

  “Anyway, I’ll let your new friends fill you in on the rest. Good day to you, ladies.”

  The agent turns and stamps off, and the two women to my flanks let out a collective sigh.

  “My goodness,” remarks Mary. “I’ve heard things about that woman, but hearing is one thing, and seeing another. She’s so very intense…”

  “That she is,” adds Lucy. “I feel sorry for you, Brie, having to deal with her.”

  I feel both of them looking at me, but merely stare after Agent Woolf as she drifts off out of sight. My heart is now clattering at a pace that’s making me nauseous, my head starting to spin.

  “Brie, she’s gone now, it’s OK,” says Mary. “And all that stuff about the gene testing, it’s nothing to concern yourself with. It’s extremely rare for anyone, particularly an Unenhanced, to have any old Enhanced blood.”

  “Yeah, don’t look so worried,” comes Lucy’s voice now, her fingers squeezing my forearm supportively. “She’s just trying to frighten you…for some odd reason. I’ve never known a Savant to be quite so unpleasant. I mean, sure they can be pretty rude sometimes, but she seemed to be taking pleasure in it…”