The Enhanced Series Boxset

by T. C. Edge

  Yet her eyes tell the story. They’re clear windows to her pain.

  “We have three children,” says Brian.

  When I look at him, I don’t see the same expression. His features are bland and relaxed. There’s no coil of pain, no wrinkle of heartbreak there.

  Not like this wife.

  “Two girls and boy, I believe,” continues Brian.

  He looks to his wife for confirmation. She nods silently and I see the earliest signs of a tear starting to shine in the corner of her left eye. When her husband looks away, and Adryan and I avert our eyes, she quickly dabs her finger to her eye to remove the brine.

  I shouldn’t see, but I do. My Hawk-eyes miss nothing.

  Brian seems to be somewhere stuck between caring for his wife and yet not recognising the signals. He appears to have no idea of how she’s feeling, his ability to observe and identify human emotion severely lacking.

  And so, on he goes, unearthing more grief, his words like a wrecking ball to her heart.

  “You will obviously be aware of the policy here regarding children, Brie,” he says, addressing me. “Savant children aren’t raised by their families, but in communal nurseries. It better allows us to focus on our work. So, yes, we had three children, but know nothing about them…”

  I turn again to Mary with pitying eyes.

  She will have had to suffer having three children torn from her loving arms. She will have had to hide her grief, lock it away in a deep prison, stoically get on with her life and pretend it didn’t matter to her. Fulfil her requirements as a lady of the Unenhanced, give up her offspring without making any fuss.

  But what’s more, she will have been working in the nurseries, looking after other children, her own no doubt taken to be raised in another nursery to ensure no strong bonds developed.

  I search her pained eyes and see the flash of a memory. See her walking around the communal areas any chance she gets, looking for her daughters or son, searching for young men and women with similar features to her, to her husband. Searching for some sight, just a quick look, at the children who were taken from her.

  And as that memory blooms, so does that feeling of pain.

  And looking at her, all I say is: “Sorry…”

  She smiles weakly back, and sets firm her expression again. Stoic, strong, enduring this harsh world without a single complaint. She shouldn’t have to live like this.

  No one should.

  And then, brightening her eyes, she looks around the table and smiles more widely.

  “Who’s still hungry for dessert?” she asks.

  Her husband nods his consent. I look to Adryan, who carries a different complexion. He knows. He understands. He isn’t like the rest of them.

  “I’d love some. Thank you, Mary,” he says softly. “And what a delicious dinner it’s been.”

  She takes a sharp breath, fighting back the desire to unleash her grief, and darts off out of the room towards the kitchen. No one goes after her. I assume it happens a lot. The poor woman must cry herself to sleep every night.

  And that evening, when we return to our apartment on the floor above, I can’t help but cry myself, betraying my promise to not do so until the job’s done.

  The image of Mary, wandering through the communal levels, desperate for some sight of the children that might be hers, sets itself to the front of my eyes.

  And breaks my heart.

  Sitting by the transparent wall, I look upon the entire city with a heavy sense of grief. I never considered that these powers I have could be such a burden. That aside from my super-sight and super-speed, and the ability to manipulate minds, watching and feeling the pain of others is a terrible curse to endure.

  Mary’s pain, if only briefly, has become mine. A deep, pulsing ache that makes anything I’ve ever felt appear as nothing by comparison, a minor cut next to a gaping gash.

  To never truly know your children. To have them stripped from you. It is the most inhumane thing of all.

  As my cheeks grows wet, I feel Adryan’s arms pull me in. I let him hold me, comfort me, and purge myself of this borrowed pain, of these tears that aren’t meant for me.

  I feel foolish somehow, my emotions ragged and uncontrollable. And with Adryan gently stroking my wavy brown hair, I turn my eyes up to look at him, and utter some words that make no sense.

  “You wouldn’t let that happen to us, would you?” I ask weakly. “If we had a child, you wouldn’t let them take it?”

  His silver eyes turn to strong metal, and he shakes his head.

  “Never, Brie. That’s exactly what we’re fighting for.”

  And then I realise again, that this isn’t real. We’re not really married. He doesn’t really care about me. This isn’t going to have a happy ending.

  I know that all too well.

  And there’s nothing I can do but make my peace with it.

  Then I feel his fingers fall from my hair to my cheeks, and his metal eyes melt. And in a sudden motion, he guides his soft lips to mine, and kisses me for the first time of his own free will.

  It last seconds only, but it’s enough to catch me in his spell. And when he leans back again, he does so with a smile.

  “I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he says. “And not because Lady Orlando has ordered it. Not because the Nameless want it. Because…because I want it.”

  His words stop the flow of tears down my cheeks. His eyes grow hard again, forcing mine to do the same. And together, we turn our gaze to the glowing night, and enjoy a period of silence.

  A comfortable silence, with no need for words. One where we think, and recharge, and get ready for the next battle.

  Because that’s all my days are. Battle after battle.

  And the next one is coming up fast.

  87

  The smells that spread around the gardens of level 10 are a welcome change to the scent of disinfectant. Having spent plenty of time in Inner Haven over the last month, the latter is something I’m getting used to, and given my time living in the smoky halls of Carmichael’s, I suppose I can’t complain.

  In fact, I could probably tell you where I am in the city just with a quick sniff. Each quarter over in Outer Haven carries its own unique odour, and Inner Haven smells entirely different from all of them. The underlands and outerlands, too, produce their own special signatures.

  Here, though, on level 10, I’m reminded only of the house in the southern quarter, where Sophie sees to the training and transition of girls set to marry up. There a fresh and natural smell to the air, a purity that you simply don’t get anywhere else.

  Just wandering through, I feel more alive than ever, my blood pumping up with extra doses of oxygen. And along with it, the flow of adrenaline is also present, building and building as the minutes pass, and the changeover from morning to afternoon arrives.

  I’ve been here for an hour now, just wandering around and soaking up the atmosphere. It’s fairly sparsely populated, which is another reason it appeals to me so much. Clearly, the Savants feel that they have better things to be doing than to wander through these beautiful gardens, the very nature of the place lost on them.

  Yet, some do come to reinvigorate themselves. Perhaps that’s another reason for this level, to help provide a pulse of energy when required.

  They come with tired eyes and appear to suck in as much clean air as they can, taking deep breaths as they take a short walk, letting the life-giving air fill their lungs and saturate their bodies. Then, when they leave, do they so with an extra spring to their step, ready to take the rest of the day head on.

  As it nears noon, however, I work towards the western side and towards the large windows. The view from here is, naturally, far less impressive than up on level 51, and my sight across Inner Haven is rather weakened as a result.

  Yet still, the wide streets beyond the High Tower, stretching away to the west, are visible, the large courtyard around the platform seemingly about to go through a few tempora
ry changes.

  By the looks of things, some form of official staging is being constructed, much like it was during the ceremony to honour myself and my compatriots from Outer Haven. The reason for this new development is clear – tomorrow, in the late afternoon, Commander Fenby is going to be descending from on high to address the City Guard.

  I watch for a while as the platform outside the High Tower, as well as the streets beyond, are altered and changed, the work being overseen by Savants but put into action by regular Enhanced. Brutes, naturally, are required to do any heavy lifting, working alongside large construction machines to erect stages and stands.

  The scale of the operation lends me to believe that this isn’t just for the City Guard, but for the wider public as well. Perhaps an opportunity for the Consortium to further enhance their cause and get more backing from those they rule.

  I guess such public relations events must hardly come naturally to the Consortium and Director Cromwell. In the end, it’s probably people like Adryan, working at the IHR, who puts forward such ideas to ensure those at the top maintain the public favour.

  As the time ticks on, however, I find my attention being taken by the view towards the lifts, way off across the gardens. A check of my watch tells me it’s 11.56AM, and that I should be expecting Brian any minute now.

  I still have my doubts about whether he’ll show. This is the most complicated order I’ve given, by far, and therefore is more likely to fail. Then, there are others aspects to consider, such as whether Brian is actually able to retrieve the information I need, unseen and undetected.

  From what Adryan found out about his work, Brian operates alone in his own private office, and hence should be able to do what I require without interruption. I certainly hope that’s the case.

  Using my Hawk-vision as subtly as I can, I linger in place and keep my eyes on the lifts at the core of the level, all of the beautiful gardens and pathways spread out around them. I scan every face that comes into view, growing more tense by the second as Brian fails to materialise.

  Checking my watch equally often, I find the face I’m looking for at the precise stroke of the hour. My insides swell with hope and pride as he wanders towards me with a fairly blank expression on his face.

  My expression is fairly cold too, but not my yes. They’re shifty, turning left and right and making sure that the coast is clear as Brian directs his path right at me.

  Moving beneath the shade of a canopy of palm leaves, I make sure I’m hidden from sight as my servant arrives. His eyes are laser-guided to mine as he comes, and I quickly enter his thoughts to investigate their patterns.

  He’s completely under my command. Right now, this is all being done on autopilot…

  Reaching me, I watch as his fingers dip into his suit jacket pocket and withdraw a tiny square file. I hold my breathing tight as he discreetly – as commanded – passes the file to my outstretched fingers.

  His eyes continue to look upon me, and I quickly make sure to further muddy the memory of this event, just to further cover my tracks. Without so much as a word, he turns and begins making his way back towards the lifts, his motion so robotic that anyone normal would consider it suspicious.

  But not here.

  Not in this strange world. Most people move the same way, whether under the control of a Mind-Manipulator or not.

  I quickly look upon the file and smile, before slipping it into my pocket and moving back out of the shadows.

  And in my head a single thought begins to dominate: I’m starting to get the hang of this.

  And with a similar feeling of power as last night flooding my veins, I quickly return to the lifts, and begin working my way straight down to the consumption level.

  I have a date to keep.

  88

  “I did it, Adryan. I got it.”

  In a quiet corner of the consumption level, Adryan and I sit with a pre-prepared lunch coughed up by one of the many self-service food machines here.

  The food, I know, it prepared and packed over in the factories of the eastern quarter in Outer Haven, before being shipped here each morning. Doing so makes sure that no service staff are required, work that would be too low for a Savant, or even any other Enhanced, and only capable of being performed by a lowly member of Outer Haven.

  Since they’re not allowed into Inner Haven, and the High Tower in particular, except by strict invite, such a thing would be impossible. As such, all food here is delivered by machine on automated systems, and can, therefore, lack in freshness and flavour.

  I guess Savants don’t much care about that. Food, after all, is merely a method of providing the body with sustenance and energy. I assume that their taste buds, like their emotions, are equally dulled.

  Right now, though, I have no appetite and no interest in food. Instead, it’s the little file that I discreetly pass to Adryan under the table that’s my primary focus.

  Taking it from my fingers, he darts his eyes down to take a look before putting it into his own pocket.

  A smile of approval hovers across his lips.

  Those lips…

  “Well done, Brie,” he says. “We can crack this open later and find out what’s inside.”

  “Good. So, what now? What’s my next mission?”

  I ask the question with a rare enthusiasm, a new verve. I’m beginning to believe that I can do just about anything with these powers of mine. That this building, this entire city, is my playground.

  His eyes turn around us to ensure we’re out of hearing range from anyone nearby. Right now, the entire floor is filling, and growing louder by the minute, giving some concealment to our words.

  His inspection isn’t necessary, though. My Hawk-eyes are always working, always checking that the coast is clear. I’m growing into my role here well.

  “Let’s take a look at the file first,” suggests Adryan, “before we make any further plans.”

  I suppose that makes sense. It might lend us some new information that could better direct my next actions.

  “I’ve been thinking, though, about the whole…assassin thing,” I whisper. I slowly lean in, and he does too.

  “Yes?”

  “Does it need to be me who does it?” I query. He frowns. “Hear me out, OK. I’m just wondering…can’t I get someone else to do it instead?”

  “You mean manipulate someone?”

  I nod.

  He shakes his head.

  Recoiling a little at the quick dismissal of my idea, I ask why.

  “Brie, the only people who have access to the levels beneath the summit are extremely high ranking Savants. Therefore, they have the most powerful minds among us, and will be harder to manipulate, especially if you’re saying what I think you’re saying.”

  “I am,” I say quickly. “I’m saying exactly that. Find out who might be meeting with Cromwell, and put an order in them to do the deed. It would save me having to do what amounts to a suicide mission.”

  Adryan does a further check of our surroundings.

  “It’s fine,” I tell him. “I’m keeping watch, don’t worry.”

  He leans in again, just enough to keep his voice low, but not too much to look suspicious.

  “Brie, you’ve said it before, the more extreme the order, the harder it is to make someone carry it out. And as I say, you’re dealing with very powerful minds, some of whom may well be Mind-Manipulators and you’d never even know it. If you tried to put an order in the wrong head, then they might just figure it out…especially if you’re getting them to kill their Director.”

  I don’t answer for a moment.

  Then I simply say: “It was just an idea.”

  “And a good one in other circumstances. Believe me, I’d love it if you didn’t have to go up there. But you do. It has to be you. No one else can be trusted with this.”

  I’m starting to get used to being told that. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so ‘special’.

  “Right, so how do we view the file?” I
ask.

  “In the apartment. I’ll set a filter on the wall interface. We can read it without raising any flags.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Don’t worry, Brie. You’re a budding expert at the art of Mind-Manipulation, but I know about this stuff. Leave it with me.”

  Once more, I’m forced to trust him, setting my natural inclination to doubt just about everything to one side.

  Jeez, this place is turning me into Mrs Carmichael.

  With our secret discussion concluded, we’re able to relax a little. So far, everything’s going quite well, with the only real hiccup being the genetic test from the other day. So far, nothing appears to have come of it, and I can only assume that the results of my blood sample – or W. Malcolm’s blood sample, to be more precise – have come back without any anomalies.

  That said, I’d like to make sure.

  Leaving Adryan to continue his workday, I make my way down towards the atrium and head towards the main desk. There, I find Rebecca multi-tasking once more, with the receptionist alongside her doing the same.

  She appears to be juggling a number of things, constantly tapping away on her touchscreen to coordinate meetings and security clearances and a whole manner of other duties that fall on her dainty shoulders.

  I start to speak but she raises a single finger to stop me. Several long moments of furious tapping later, her eyes finally raise to mine.

  “Mrs Shaw, good afternoon. What can I do for you?”

  “Hi, Rebecca,” I say. “I was just wondering if I could get temporary access to level 32?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Not possible I’m afraid, Mrs Shaw. Access is not granted purely by request of residents. Official channels need to be gone through. What is it that you require on level 32?”

  “Oh…I just wanted to find out about my genetics test, that’s all.”

  “Hmmmm, I see. I wouldn’t worry. That was two days ago now. I’m sure they will contact you if there are any problems.”