by T. C. Edge
As the two women enter into a short debate about the nature of Savants, I feel my mind begin to work overtime, and their voices fade into a jumble of background noise.
If I’m tested, I’ll be found out!
There’s no getting around it!
Why didn’t Adryan tell me?!
When will I be tested?!
The final thought in my head isn’t actually in my head at all. It comes hurtling out of my mouth, rudely interrupting the conversation.
The volume of the question somewhat startles the women. I’m forced to apologise, and ask the question again, this time more calmly.
“I mean…do you know when I’ll likely be tested?” I ask.
“This afternoon,” announces Lucy matter-of-factly. “Actually, I should have mentioned it earlier, but wanted to make you feel at ease. My husband, Raymond, works in the science laboratories. I was asked to let you know about the test. Best get it out of the way quickly, huh?”
I’m finding it almost impossible not to react.
Hold it together, Brie, hold it together…
Just breathe.
“This afternoon,” I repeat slowly. “OK…that’s OK. Um…where is the nearest bathroom? I think I’ve drunk too much coffee…”
Lucy’s finger points the way towards a bank of restrooms nearby. I nod and stand and begin moving towards them, trying to maintain my composure.
Reaching the nearest door, I find it opening up as I arrive before it, presenting me passage inside. I walk in and the door shuts. There appears to be no locking feature. I suppose it must intuitively know when the place is occupied.
In the privacy of the little space, I stand up against the wall, grit my teeth, ball my fists, and crunch up my eyes as hard as I can. Then, letting out a silent roar, I try to purge myself of all of my nerves, fear, and frustration.
I take a long, deep, breath, and take a seat on top of the toilet lid.
OK, think Brie, there has to be a way around this.
My first reaction is to curse Adryan for keeping this from me. Did he not know? How recent is this directive? Surely he’d have informed me if he was aware of it?!
Those and many other questions flow through my mind, until I realise that I’m just wasting time. I need a solution, not questions. I need a way around this.
Of course, more information would be of help. There’s no point in speculating. I need to go out there, extract what I need to know from Lucy and Mary, and then form a plan.
You can do this, Brie. This is a proper test…
With another lengthy breath sucked into my lungs, I straighten out my clothes and step back towards the door. It slides open immediately, and the consumption level comes into view again, now far busier than it was when I first arrived.
When I reach my new friends, I find them engaged in a fresh discussion. They break it as I sit down once more, and turn their attention back on me.
“I’m sorry again for not telling you, Brie,” says Lucy. “It’s really not a big deal, this medical. But, I know how stressful it can be moving here, so I apologise…”
“It’s fine, really. I just…I get uncomfortable in hospitals and things like that,” I lie. “I don’t like physical examinations. Um…is that what this is, a physical?”
Lucy frowns pityingly.
“Oh, just barely,” she says. “They’ll take some blood from you, that’s all, and then analyse it. Really, it’s nothing to worry about.”
“And where does this happen?”
“The science and medical section stretches across levels 31-35,” says Lucy. “I think you’ll be on level 32. We can confirm it in a moment, down in the atrium. They’ll give you temporary access to that level. I’ll come with you, don’t worry.”
I look to Mary for additional support.
“I need to get back to work, unfortunately,” she says. “But as Lucinda says, I’m sure you’ll be just fine. I’ll talk to my husband about dinner, though, and send a message to your apartment. It’s 51-35, right?”
I nod vacantly.
“Excellent. I’ll arrange it for as soon as possible. Perhaps Lucy and Raymond can come too.”
Lucy offers some enthusiasm for the idea. I’m still feeling completely numb, and thoughts of trying to extract security information from Mary’s husband are no longer top of the agenda.
“Well,” concludes Mary. “I’d best be off. I’ll leave you in Lucy’s very capable hands. And once more, Brie, welcome to the High Tower. I’m sure you’ll love it here eventually.”
I sense some ambiguity in her conviction. She takes my hand again as I stand, performs a cursory hug, and drifts off into the growing crowd of grey skirts and suits.
Lucy’s voice grabs my attention.
“Well then,” she says. “Shall we find out about that floor number?”
I dip my head, and we stand and move off towards the lifts.
Welcome to the High Tower indeed.
At this rate, I’ll be gone before I know it…
83
The exit doors of the High Tower look incredibly inviting. As we walk through the atrium, nearing the reception desk, they’re all I can look at.
Should I just leave right now? Escape across Inner Haven, pass through the gate, and then make my way to the northern quarter?
I could find my way down to the underlands and join my brother and Drum. I could just become a normal soldier, maybe? Fight all of this head on, rather than sneaking around in secret here at enemy HQ.
I mean, this idea was always a bit fanciful, but surely this is it now? Surely I’ve got no choice but to calmly walk out of the building to, I don’t know, get some ‘fresh air’, and never return.
Like, ever.
As Lucy leads me towards the front desk, it’s all I can think of, the bright light of the sun beyond the many doors extremely inviting. I feel them drawing my eyes, and drawing my body too.
I’m not sure I have a choice, do I? If I take this test, they’ll catch me, probably torture me, and most likely extract every single thing I know about the Nameless from my cluttered head.
Admittedly, that’s not much – no one seems to keep me in the loop – but it’s certainly enough for them to find their way down through the one secret passage I am aware of.
From there, it’ll be the beginning of the end. All out war will break out, and the city will be engulfed in death and suffering. All because I’ve been sent here unprepared and completely out of my depth, and without the proper knowledge of what the hell I’m getting myself into.
I mean, damn it, Adryan, why on earth didn’t you tell me?!
“Brie, Brie…”
My attention is captured by the sweet voice of Lucy. I turn to her and find that we’re already at the desk.
“Longing for your old home, are you?” she asks with a little, suggestive smirk.
Is she a mind reader too? Hell, I guess it wouldn’t take a genius to work that one out from the expression on my face.
“Erm, no,” I laugh. “Just…I might need to get some fresh air in a minute.”
I’m setting the groundwork for my escape. Unless I can think of something better, it’s on.
“Right, OK. So, here we are,” she says, gesturing to the woman behind the desk.
It appears to be the same one who was here when I arrived yesterday with Adryan. Rebecca, I believe her name was.
“Good afternoon, Mrs Paulson, Mrs Shaw,” she says, looking to Lucy and then to me. I suppose her super Savant memory will come in handy when dealing with all the people here. “What can I do for you?”
Lucy takes the lead.
“Brie here has her genetic blood test this afternoon.” She looks at her watch, and raises her eyes at the time. “Actually, I believe it’s coming up fast,” she says.” Great, just great. “We wanted to know the exact time, and which level Brie is to be tested on.”
Rebecca sets about finding the information on the touchscreen desk of hers. She’s extremely efficient,
seemingly managing multiple tasks as once.
“Level 32. 1PM,” she says. “The reception staff at the facility will inform you of the exact room.”
I check my watch and feel my heart stop. It’s 12.47PM.
“Right,” exhales Lucy. “Yes, 1PM rings a bell. I didn’t realise time had flown so fast today. Thank you very much, Rebecca. We’d better be off. No time for that air I’m afraid, Brie…”
Grabbing my arm, she begins sweeping back towards the lifts, taking me along with her. I hold back, slowing my step.
“I could really do with some air,” I say. “We…we have time.”
“No time at all. We should be there a few minutes early if anything. Come on, it’s just best to get it over with quickly. I know some people don’t like blood, but this is a necessity here I’m afraid…”
I consider more excuses. None come. My eyes stick to the daylight, filtering in through the doors, the yellow hues of freedom so close, yet so far.
As we near the lifts, I consider one final question that might, at least, give me time.
“So…how long do the results take to come in?” I ask nervously.
“Hmmmm, I’m not sure exactly. As said, this directive is very new. In the past, genetic defects and disorders were always searched for whenever an Unenhanced married up to make sure such things weren’t passed around. This test is different, though, and searches specifically for latent Enhanced genes.”
“So…you have no idea how long?” I ask again.
“At least a day, but more likely two,” she says simply.
We reach the lifts, and the doors open.
A day, maybe two…
Will that give me time to complete my mission? I highly doubt that, but it’ll certainly give me time to think…and escape if I need to.
The thought gives me some solace, and I find myself drawn into the lift by Lucy’s attempts to hurry me. She really is very similar to Sophie.
Standing in the lift, nothing happens. Lucy gestures to my hand.
“You’ll need to scan your hand. It’s your security clearance that’s been granted temporary permission to level 32, not mine.”
I idly reach forward and let the scanner warm my fingers and palm. I wait for Lucy to give the order, but again she looks to me and nods.
I guess I have to give the order too…
“Level 32,” I say, extremely half-heartedly.
The metal contraption clicks into gear and I feel it begin to rise. Lucy smiles at me and tries to offer some more calming words, thinking it’s just needles and blood that make me squeamish.
She has no idea.
I find myself ignoring her completely, my mind still working overtime to look for a solution. I even go as far as to call for Zander’s help, but find myself unable to concentrate for long enough to actually communicate with him.
Within seconds only, the lift is slowing and the doors are opening and Lucy is leading me into a place that smells of antiseptic and disinfectant. It’s a powerful odour, and reminds me somewhat of the general scent that every nook and cranny of Inner Haven seems to carry, a smell that I simply associated with being super clean.
Here, though, it’s more powerful, and the association is with being super healthy instead.
Walking along a short corridor, my eyes are also attacked by the bright yellow lights that seem to burn so furiously from inside the many glass rooms. Anything involving medicine or science, I suppose, requires the very best conditions, and good lighting is certainly part of that.
Lucy doesn’t appear to be quite so affected by it, and my sensitivity probably owes to my Hawk-eyes. After all, they’re still so new to me, albeit now fully under my control.
Not here, it would seem. Squinting, we reach a new reception desk in a circular and open foyer, although far smaller than the one in the main atrium. The brief interaction between Lucy and the man behind the desk leads us onwards down one of many corridors, spreading from the foyer like spokes on a wheel.
We reach a door marked ‘Examination Room 8’, and my new ally’s knuckles tap against the metal.
I hear a man calling from inside, and make sure to try to open up my eyes a little wider. Thankfully, they’re beginning to grow used to the intense glare.
Lucy opens the door at the man’s behest, and he appears in front of us, dressed in a light grey lab coat to signify his rank, but carrying a full head of white hair.
“Good afternoon, Lucinda,” he says smoothly. “How are you today?”
“I’m good, Doctor Friel. And yourself?”
“Good,” comes his flat reply.
I suppose they must be friends of sorts. Acquaintances more likely, given how Lucy’s husband works around here.
The dull interaction concludes, and Doctor Friel turns his eyes to me.
“Mrs Shaw, please step inside. This won’t take long.”
I glance at Lucy, who gives me a final smile of support, and enter through the door. It’s similarly bright as the rest of the level, every inch of the ceiling appearing to glow. Ahead, I see a small medical bed, with various items of machinery and equipment spread out beyond.
“Do take a seat, and roll up your right sleeve.”
I move to sit down, scanning the room for something, anything, my mind working on overdrive. It’s only when I reach the bed, and turn my eyes to what lies before it, that something clicks inside me.
And a plan begins to form.
Because ahead across the room, sitting on a small table, I see a series of vials filled with blood, each of them seemingly marked with a tiny label. As Doctor Friel begins busying himself with a needle, I search forward with my Hawk-eyes and see that each label pertains to a name.
I quickly zoom back, my shirt now rolled up above my elbow. Doctor Friel moves around, blocking my view of the vials.
“OK, Mrs Shaw…”
“Call me Brie, please,” I say, trying to delay.
He nods.
“OK, Brie…I’m going to insert this needle into the median cubital vein and draw out some blood. That blood will then be tested for any anomalies. Try to relax. You will feel a prick of pain but nothing more.”
His voice is as dull as any I’ve ever heard, and his movements equally slow and methodical. As he leans down to expose the vein and begins to insert the needle, I feel no pain at all.
Because my mind is already elsewhere, and a terrible choice seems to be laid out before me.
I need to swap the vials. And if I do, I might just be subjecting someone completely innocent to a horrible fate.
As he works, I stare forward, my view ahead now clear, and a battle begins raging inside me. I allow my Hawk-vision to draw my eyes forwards once more, and look at the names laid out across the little containers.
M. Lerner.
K. Jacobsen.
W. Malcolm.
There are a couple of others, but their names aren’t fully visible to me, the vials half turned and the words cut off. I look upon the three available names and try to think of them as nothing, not people, not regular human beings just getting on with their lives.
No, just names, just words. That’s all they are…
I turn my eyes down again and see that the syringe is nearly full. Doctor Friel sucks out the last of the blood and then raises his eyes to me.
“All done,” he tells me.
I’m handed a lick of lotion to add to the little wound, and told to rub it on my skin. It immediately stops any bleeding, closing the small puncture. Meanwhile, Doctor Friel removes the end of the syringe, revealing a fresh vial to be added to the others.
He scoops up a small label from the table, sticks it to the vial, and then writes across it: B. Shaw.
Then, he sets it alongside the others, and turns back to me.
“You can go now, Mrs Shaw.”
I don’t move. The battle rages on, and I look at the vials once more.
Lerner.
Jacobsen.
Malcolm.
&n
bsp; The three names run through my head, dancing around and around.
“Is something wrong, Mrs Shaw,” comes the doctor’s dull voice.
I have no choice. I really wish I did, but I don’t…
“Actually, yes…I have an ache in my eye here,” I say, tapping the corner of my right eye. “Could you take a quick look?”
The doctor stares at me for a moment. Such a request is very out of the ordinary. I can see that. I can sense that.
Eventually, he concedes by way of stepping forward.
“What seems to be the matter?” he asks, leaning in closely to get a better look at the area where my finger taps.
I don’t answer. I have him where I want him. Now, my powers are truly going to be tested.
With his inspecting eyes wide open and right in front of me, I slip inside his head as quickly as I can. His consciousness is grand and sumptuous, a wonderful banquet hall against the dull canteens of the regular, Unenhanced mind.
Inside, I look upon it all and call out my order, letting it echo right to the depths. And as I do, I pick out a name at random and on instinct, making a snap decision that might just change someone’s life. Or end it.
Remove the label from my vial, I say, and change it with the label marked W. Malcolm.
I repeat the order a couple of times. It floats about and refuses to take hold. I know the drill by now when dealing with such a powerful mind. I focus harder, and repeat the order with more clarity, bending the man’s mind to my will.
Remove the label from my vial, and change it with the label marked W. Malcolm.
Once again, I repeat it. And as with all the rest, it eventually spreads and takes hold, fading away into the depths and forcing him to act.
I withdraw, and see that slightly vacant look upon him. I flash my eyes to my watch to see that a mere second has passed, time seeming to slow within his consciousness, just as it does when I activate my Dasher abilities.
It’s crucial that that happens. Crucial that I can set an order quickly, and without hesitation.