Hex (18 page)

Ali had nodded, thinking silently that the computer room—that Raven had claimed existed—was probably on one of those restricted floors. The floor the elevator took them to was almost identical to the one they had left. The only real difference was the nature of the test subjects. Almost all of them were confined to their beds, either because they were incapable of moving, or because they were held there by heavy restraints. Tom led them to the end of the first corridor and opened a door, walking with the minimum of movement and obviously self-conscious about the jerky machine-enhanced reactions of his body.

Once inside, both Luciel and Ali had paused, frozen in place as they looked at the figure lying on the bed. Tom regarded them with a curious satisfaction at their reaction. He had been right when he spoke of Mikhail being covered in more machinery than him. The boy on the bed lay in the midst of a tangle of cables and medical equipment. He was naked, except for a pair of shorts, and Ali could see that the machinery extended further. Metal seemed to have been welded to his skin, giving him an inhuman appearance. And from the flesh that survived, stretched tight over the bones of the skeletal figure, came the unmistakable stench of corruption. The boy was literally rotting away. As she stared in fascinated horror, her eyes met Mikhail's and she realized with shock that his expression was not vacant. Within that living corpse, he was still, against all reason, horribly aware.

Her stomach heaved and she turned quickly, fumbling for the door and escaping into the corridor. Taking deep breaths she sank to the floor, half retching, half sobbing. As her body shook in paroxysms of fear she heard a quiet voice buzz in her ear.

“What happened?”

She couldn't speak as she continued to gasp for breath and Raven's voice took on an edge of what might have been alarm as she continued:

“Ali, your heart rate's gone right up—you're going into shock. Get a hold of yourself and tell me what happened.”

“Raven.” Ali bent her head and murmured the words into her folded arms. “I saw . . . I saw one of the test subjects for the memory experiments. . . . It was, it was so horrible. . . .” She cut herself off abruptly as Tom and Luciel emerged from the room. Luciel bent to help her to her feet.

“Are you OK?” he asked with concern.

“I think so,” she said shakily.

“Then you want to go on?” Tom asked and grimaced a little in response to her nod. “It won't do any good,” he said. “We asked Mikhail about your friend. He didn't tell us anything. He doesn't speak anymore.”

“This is pointless, Ali.” Luciel looked distressed. “The other two won't be able to tell us anything either. Mikhail won't talk, Esther can't, and Revenge is incomprehensible.”

Ali hesitated and heard Raven speak softly into her ear:

“Say you want to go on.”

She sighed, wondering how the others would react if she told them she heard voices in her head telling her to continue. Rejecting the impulse she said only:

“I want to see them.” Tom and Luciel exchanged glances, but set off again in search of the next patient.

•  •  •

If the gangers hadn't known that Raven was a Hex when they got into the flitter, they must certainly know by now. Wraith frowned when he realized that Raven was making no attempt to disguise her abilities. But he rationalized that the Countess had assured him they would be discreet, and that he would be trusting these people with their lives anyway. However, Raven's use of her Hex abilities made him uncomfortable. Her preference for working in seclusion meant that he had not exactly been aware of what her connection with computers entailed.

Now he found it slightly alarming to see her sitting in the pilot's seat, one hand resting lightly on the controls, her eyes defocused. The flitter weaved past the buildings at high speed, avoiding the rest of the aerial traffic, but the sight of Raven's blank eyes made him tight with tension. The gangers seemed to be similarly affected, if the care with which they had fastened themselves into the vehicle was any indication. The only person who seemed at ease was Kez, who hadn't fastened his own belt, and was grinning with every evidence of enjoyment at the high speeds the flitter was attaining. His absence of alarm seemed to increase his status in the eyes of the gangers. Wraith leaned forward with a deliberate ease to speak to Raven.

“Can you hear me?” he asked.

“Naturally,” she replied somewhat caustically. “But there's a limit to how many things I can do at once. I'm not really in the mood for conversation.”

“Are you in contact with Ali?” Wraith said, ignoring her tone.

“Yes.”

“If you want to concentrate on your link with her, you needn't pilot as well,” Wraith suggested.

“I think I can handle it,” Raven said, a shade of amusement in her voice, although her eyes remained blank. “If there's a problem I'll hand over to Kez.”

“Very well,” Wraith agreed, reflecting to himself that, given Kez's propensity for speeding, the exchange would hardly make much difference. As he sat back he caught Melek's gaze and the ganger gave an almost rueful shrug. Wraith acknowledged it with the barest flicker of his eyes, but he sensed the mood in the flitter become less antagonistic.

•  •  •

The second of the patients was no more communicative than the first. But Ali found herself more able to handle Esther's vacuity than Mikhail's consciousness. The girl was one of the oldest patients. According to Tom she had been in her late teens when admitted and was now in her early twenties. He had added, almost without interest, that test subjects rarely survived that long. Ali wondered if Esther's state could be called surviving. Her mind had been damaged by the experiments, leaving her with the mental abilities of a small child. She smiled lopsidedly at a point somewhere behind their heads as Luciel questioned her, and it was obvious to Ali that there was no way she would be telling them anything about Rachel. Raven obviously concurred. After only a few minutes of questioning Esther, her voice came over the comlink again.

“We're accomplishing nothing here.”

Ali tried to conceal her frustration. The presence of the others meant that she couldn't point out to Raven that this had been a useless exercise from the beginning. Instead she turned to Luciel.

“Can you show me the third test subject?” she asked.

“Revenge?” Luciel sighed. “I guess so. I suppose you won't be satisfied until we do.”

“Come on then,” Tom said gruffly, heading for the door. “Let's get this charade over with.”

He led the way down the corridor and through three more sets of doors until he halted before a shut door. He moved to open it and then paused, the hum of his machinery dropping to a low purr as he cautioned Ali:

“Revenge is under permanent restraint because she often becomes violent. If she starts acting up, we had better get out of here. I don't want
them
to turn up and start asking us what we're doing here.”

“OK,” Ali agreed and Luciel added his assent, obviously equally unwilling to come into contact with the scientists. Tom turned back to the door and pushed it open.

A girl was lying on the bed, metal cuffs holding her wrists to the sides of the bed and a heavy over-blanket buckled tightly over her so she couldn't move her body. She had been sitting as far up the bed as the restraints allowed, leaning back against the pillows. But as the door opened her head snapped round and she fixed them with a piercing stare. She looked more like an old woman than a child. Her features were gaunt and her eyes sunken. Her hands clutched the sides of the bed like claws and her wrists were flecked with blood, lacerated by the cuffs. Her hair would have been waist length if it was brushed, but instead it was matted around her head in a dirty mess. Her skin was grimy, and there was dried blood from the scratches on her face and bruises on her neck. In a facility where everything else was clinically sanitized she seemed incongruous. Looking at her injuries Ali felt convinced they were self-inflicted.

Tom approached the bed hesitantly and the girl focused on him with a fearful intensity, her lips drawing back to show her teeth in an animal snarl. Luciel looked nervous and Ali found herself holding her breath as Tom spoke.

“Revenge?” he said soothingly. “It's Tom. . . . Will you talk to me?”

There was a growl. If the girl had been an animal she would have flattened her ears; as it was she flinched back, looking as if she would bite if Tom came any closer. Ali jumped when a human voice rasped from Revenge's torn mouth.

“You are poisoned,” she hissed. “Infected. Get away from me!” Her voice rose to a scream and both Tom and Luciel retreated. Luciel glanced sideways at Ali.

“You wanted to talk to her,” he said. “Good luck.”

She wet her lips nervously and prepared to speak, wondering what it was Raven expected of her. But before she could say anything a voice spoke in her ear.

“Relax, Ali,”
Raven told her.
“Repeat exactly what I say.”
Ali couldn't respond, but Raven took her assent as read and began softly:
“Ask her name.”

“What's your name?” Ali said obediently and the cadaverous face turned to regard her.

“I am Revenge,” she said, looking through Ali in a way that was eerily familiar.

“Is that a name or a threat?”
Raven's voice was chilling.

“Uh . . . is that a name or a threat?” Ali asked uncomfortably.

“It's what I am,” Revenge whispered, leaning forward ominously. Ali resisted the urge to flinch back as she added: “There is nothing else. . . .” Her bloodied lips parted in a terrible smile, and Ali found herself staring into the eyes of insanity.

•  •  •

Raven's attention was almost entirely concentrated on the link. Lacking Ali's physical presence, she was blind to what the other girl saw. But the words that came through the link resounded in her ears. She perceived the flow of a thousand streams of data as she searched databases all over Europe, concentrating on one word:

> revenge <

> revenge <

> revenge <

The test subjects in the memory experiments had been linked up to a computer database. Which one? What had it contained? Raven was hardly conscious of Ali transmitting her words as she spoke directly to the shattered figure on the bed.

“Who are you?”

There was no answer, but the transmitter reported a rise in Ali's heart rate. And then Raven heard the girl's voice:

“You speak out of the dark. . . .”

She froze. It was impossible for the girl to know that she was speaking through Ali. Impossible, but her words suggested that, somehow, she
did
know. Raven felt the pressure of that darkness, fought against the urge to throw off her contact with the computer network, and just then one of the myriad tendrils of her awareness caught hold of a piece of information and brought it to her consciousness.

> re-venge {ri′ven(d)3} I. v/t. 1.
et,. a. j-n rächen
([
up
]
on
an
dat.): to ~ o.s. for s.th.
sich für et. rachen;
to be ~d
a) gerächt sein
od.
werden, b) sich rächen; 2. sich rächen für, vergelten (
upon, on
an
dat
.); II.
s.
3. Rache
f: . . . <

The association that had lodged somewhere in Raven's eidetic memory had been located. She focused on the dictionary entry for a heartbeat, an eon in the virtual time of the network. Whatever twisted logic had led the girl through the Germanic association of her name to a deadly statement of intent was lost now. But from a chain of half-formed clues Raven had unraveled the truth. She directed a new message to Ali's comlink and as she spoke she acknowledged the reality of what she had discovered.

“Hello, Rachel.”

“Rachel?” Ali exclaimed. Luciel and
Tom turned to stare at her, but before they could say a word they were interrupted by a raw scream. Revenge had lunged for Ali, fighting to escape the cuffs, her body thrashing with effort.

“Raven! Raven, where are you?” she screamed. The two boys looked baffled. But Ali knew that this was the most rational thing Revenge had said so far.

“We'd better go,” Tom urged and Ali looked from him to Revenge, uncertain of what to do.

“Ali, speak to her,”
Raven ordered.
“Repeat after me . . .”

Ali listened, memorizing Raven's words. Grabbing Revenge's arms she held her down on the bed and lowered her voice to repeat what she had been told:

“Be still . . . Raven comes . . . wait for her. . . .”

“Yes,” Revenge hissed, her eyes burning with anticipation. “Tell her, soon . . . she must come soon, or it will be too late.”

•  •  •

Raven blinked. The flitter had reached the edges of London. The towering skyscrapers were thinning out. The concrete jungle continued in a line across the countryside, a tangle of roads curving on top of and around each other, bordered by the towering skyrises. Raven guided the flitter out over the highway, careful not to deviate from her course into the no-fly zone over the agricultural lands. As she did so, she slowly drew her mind back from the computer connection, severing both it and the link with Ali.

She took a breath slowly. She wasn't certain of why she was unwilling to speak. But she doubted that her reticence came from anything so basic as a consideration for Wraith. The fact that Rachel was still alive bound them to their purpose, impelled them to break into the laboratory, but the things that Ali had discovered there made Raven extremely unwilling to move any nearer the reach of the CPS. Her right hand clenched into a fist on the controls and the flitter leaped forward with a lurch, shifting into a higher speed. She refused to accept the fear that threatened to control her. Instead she savored the roar of the wind rushing past them and said without emotion: