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Authors: Tash McAdam

Tags: #dystopian

SLAM (9 page)

BOOK: SLAM
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“This is great, Leaf. Thanks. So, whaddya know
about all the new soldiers coming off the tube? Are they coming
from other Cities as well? Where’re they heading?” She wants to ask
who he is, how he knows Kion, and what he’s planning on helping
them with, but there are more pressing issues at hand. If someone’s
on the run right now, they don’t have a lot of time for chatting.
It’s enough that he’s here; she can quash her curiosity for
now.

“My baby bro’s been stalking their captain for
me. They’ve been jumpin’ all over, settin’ up raids, flattenin’
anyone who gets in the way. But they ain’t found whatever they’re
lookin’ for yet. I tell ya, I ain’t never seen a hive so worked up.
And I nick stuff from them all the time, so I should
know!”

You nick stuff from them? How do
you get away with that?
She tilts her
head, and for the first time since leaving ARC base, spreads her
Talent out a little, trying to touch his mind. He grins at her,
seeming to know what she’s doing, and she sighs.

“Total Blank, eh?” That explains it. She can’t
sense his thoughts even a little; he’s impenetrable, invisible to
her mental probes. If he weren’t Talented, she would be able to
read every last part of his current thoughts and feelings. If he
were deliberately shielding, she might only get a fleeting
impression, but she’d be able to sense at least an awareness of his
presence. But Leaf may as well not be standing in front of her at
all. To her power, it’s like he doesn’t exist. A gap where there
should be a person. Unreadable, unknowable.

He smirks, slanted eyes crinkling up behind
his now disheveled fringe. “That’s why I’m useful!”

He’s right; Blanks – those immune
to psionic interference – make great spies. Without physically
seeing them, there’s no way of knowing where they are or where
they’ve been. And because they’re impossible to actually track, the
Institute makes a point of searching for them, hunting them down by
getting Readers to scan and find ‘empty’ places – places where
there
should
be a
person’s thoughts and feelings. Blanks are noticeable as a bubble
in the miasma of emotions that is the slums. And as soon as a Blank
is found, they’re killed. A Blank could never be used, because they
can’t be read, so the Institute would never be able to trust them.
Serena would wager they’re immune to mind wipes as well, but she
has no idea if that is actually true.

Leaf must be pretty damn good if he can steal
things from right under the Institute’s nose, as a Blank. But
hasn’t she just seen him take on two totally different personas so
well that she couldn’t even pinpoint all the things that had
changed? Body posture, facial tension, expressions, even the way he
looks around now is edgier, less refined. No wonder he’s a talented
thief. A Blank with great acting skills is pretty much perfect for
a criminal career.

She blows air out through her
nose, impressed despite herself, and leans her hip against a
convenient table.
Well, I hope you’re
willing to put those skills to use for us. We’d stand a better
chance with anyone who knows the area, so someone with your talents
would be a gift from Google.

“So, are you just setting us up with our digs,
or are you sticking around to help us out?” The question isn’t a
challenge. The mission brief they received merely said that one of
Kion’s contacts would pick them up and help them find their feet.
Serena fully expected that Leaf would leave them to it, sooner or
later, but he doesn’t seem to be in a hurry. At the workstation,
Abial is typing away rapidly – chatting to base, no doubt. Serena
continues to ignore her, more concerned with Leaf for the moment
than what base has to say.

After all, for all intents and purposes,
they’re now on their own. Base can’t help them anymore. Leaf might,
though. And they need all the help they can get.

“Well, I’ll stick aroun’, show ya where the
boys’ve been, pick up stuff if ya need it. But I’m not lookin’ to
get in no fights. This body were made for lovin’, not wrestlin’.”
He unfurls a slow smile at her and lifts his eyebrows
suggestively.

She shoots him a long, cold stare
until he deflates.
Seriously, kid? You
have a lot to learn if you think a smile’s gonna get you in my
shock suit. Besides, I bet you’d wet yourself if I offered to take
you up on that.

“We’re here on business. We’ll take whatever
help we can get, but keep your eyebrows and everything else to
yourself. Deal?”

He snorts a laugh and hops up on a table,
propping his elbows on his knees and tugging his earlobe
absent-mindedly. “Alright, Tiger. Sheathe them claws. I ain’t a
twist. Whaddya need?”

Abial looks up from the datapad and brushes
her hair out of her eyes, the darkened room partially obscuring the
details of her features. For a minute, she looks like a stranger to
Serena, rather than one of the most familiar faces in her life.
It’s as though something inside Abial has changed – hardened,
perhaps – and the shadows are highlighting the difference. But the
moment breaks when she speaks.

“We need food and water, for sure. Weapons if
you can get ‘em. It’d be good to get some different clothes. We
might need disguises, but that depends on what kind of plan we come
up with. Come and look at this map and show us what’s been going
on.”

Her tone brooks no argument, and Leaf slides
off the table gracefully. He might not be a fighter, but he’s got
the body and poise of a dancer, with lean muscles visible under his
well-cut suit, and surprisingly solid pectorals for his slender
frame.

Serena shifts position so she can see better,
too. Abial clicks the projector on, and with a few gestures, has a
holographic bird’s-eye view of the city floating in the air. Around
Leaf’s waist. He smirks and moves a little, then points to a spot
directly in front of his hips.

“Tallest buildin’ in the city.” He snickers,
but Abial clears her throat, obviously not amused, and he backs up
until he’s no longer surrounded by the hologram.

Serena stifles a grin, more entertained by the
flirty banter when it’s not directed at her.

“Right, well. Can I mark this? Might be
easier.”

Abial offers him a flat rectangular box, and
he dips his index finger into it, pressing the pad firmly against
the small, clear disc that sparkles there. Now, when he gestures
over the map, a line will follow in the wake of his finger. He taps
his finger and thumb together, obviously familiar with the device,
then starts drawing yellow Xs on the map. Serena shuffles closer
and looks on with interest, feeling her features settling into a
focused expression, teeth worrying at her bottom lip as she
concentrates.

We’re in a difficult situation,
any intel we can gather now might be the difference between life
and death
, she reminds herself.
We need to know where they’ve been, for how long,
and where they’re headed. We can’t just stumble around in the dark
hoping to happen upon whatever they’re looking for. We’ve gotta
figure out what they’re doing.
By the time
she’s ready to pay attention, Leaf’s marked crosses and an erratic
red line across the map.

“Okay, so the soldiers’ve all been movin’ down
this line, with for-sure incidents where I done the
crosses.”

She struggles to make sense of his slang, and
then laughs to herself. Why does he use that ridiculous accent when
he’s clearly capable of speaking properly? The points he’s marked
on the maps are probably what he mentioned earlier – the
raids.

“Oh yeah, where you done them. I see,” she
teases him, smiling when he shoots an unheated glare at
her.

He grins back wickedly, seeming to find it
funny too, then shrugs a shoulder in an eloquent lack of
explanation and turns back to the map. There are now eight yellow
crosses on the holograph, while the red line trails from the Wall
and meanders seemingly randomly across the City. If that’s where
the soldiers are focused, it seems likely they’re following someone
who knows the City fairly well – someone who’s moving on a strange
route to avoid the cameras. If the Institute knew exactly where
they were, thanks to facial recognition, they would have been
caught by now. So they’re avoiding the cameras like the
plague.

Leaf flicks the drawing disc back
to Abial, who catches it with telekinesis and pops it back into the
case it came from while Serena draws her own conclusions.
The soldiers are scrambling. That’s good for us,
I guess. Although it might make them difficult to avoid.

“Have you seen or heard anything about what
they’re after, what this is all for?” She peers over the map,
flicking it with her finger so it spins in the air, then pinching
so it zooms in on the first yellow cross. “What happened here?”
She’s starting to get a headache, and scrunches her forehead in the
hopes of warding it off.

“Power out, which hardly ever happens in the
City, as I bet ya know. Cut for six blocks, then another section
went dark. Soldiers pitched up pretty fast. I followed them 'cuz
they rumbled right pas’ where I was doin’ a job. I was sneakerin’
like, not that they woulda noticed if I’d just joined in and
started marchin’ right along with them. They’re all too busy
checkin’ their ‘quip, and chattin’ back ta base about a breach. I
couldn’t figure out what happened, but they tracked summat ta that
buildin’ and went in hard. Grenades, smoke canisters, ya name it. I
got outta there 'cuz reinforcements kept showin’ up. Whatever was
in there, they wanted it pretty bad. Get?”

Serena shuffles smoothly onto a
handy desk and settles in, gesturing for him to continue. She does
indeed ‘get.’
So, there’s a big palaver
over goodness knows what, and something that seems to have caused a
huge power cut, which is totally weird. All that, plus soldiers
heading round the city like ants from a damaged
hive
.

She sighs, pinching the bridge of
her nose.
Okay, we can do this. We’ve just
gotta figure out where the soldiers are, not go there, and somehow
get ahead of them to find the target. Easy.
Internal sarcasm aside, this is obviously not going to be a
cut-and-dried mission. She wishes there was someone else with them,
someone else she could spitball ideas with. The fact that Leaf is
around is relieving some of the tension between herself and Abial,
but it would be a huge load off to have Kion, or anyone really, to
brainstorm with.

Meanwhile, Abial continues to make notes as
Leaf spins the map so he can point out a building near the first
yellow cross.

“I chatted brief-like with the body who owns
this apartuh.” His pronunciation of ‘apartment’ is weird enough
that Abial snorts a little huff of air out of her thin-bladed nose,
but he pays no attention to her and continues with his story,
clearly completely comfortable with his bizarre way of
speaking.

Serena likes him, she
decides.
He’s a silly little toe rag,
though
.
He’s also
taking entirely too long to tell us what we need to
know
. “Alright, can we get to the point?
Clock’s ticking ...”

Leaf looks slightly hurt, but continues at a
faster pace. “And he said that before the place went dark, two
soldiers had demanded he shut his buildin’ down, hard. No one in or
out. So they’re after a body. Ain’t been able to hear any
description, or nothin’ helpful, though. The soldiers were diggin’
round in that buildin’ for hours, but when they went they only left
a two-man guard. Intrestin’ fact... a bunch of them ended up with
bandages on their hands, but I dunno what happened to them. They
booted back ta their base, clearly on a dead trail, like. Then I
guess they got more orders, or a clue as what they were after, 'cuz
they kicked off again the next day and done four more buildin’s
like the first. Three more today. They’re still guardin’ the empty
buildin’s, but not heavy-like, and no one’s been allowed back in. I
could get ya in, if ya want a looksee yerselves?”

“Huh. But they’re just hopping from building
to building, shutting stuff down and not caring that the Citizens
are getting creeped out? Weird. Is there an official story?” Serena
asks, steepling her small hands in front of her face, elbows
resting on her knees. She feels confused, and a little out of her
depth, but is determined not to show it.

“Stuff on the wire is all ‘terrorist this,
terrorist that.’ They never come up with anything new, do they?”
Abial replies, clicking her fingers together furiously, text
streaming over the top of the holograph. “According to this news
site, there’s a dangerous terrorist on the loose, who’s stolen
something important from the governor. No information about what
that could be – not that I’d believe it anyway – but there’s a
reward offer for any information.” Her voice is terse and business
like, and Serena breathes out slowly, thinking.

“Well they’ve obviously lost something. And
whatever it is that’s gone, and whoever it is that stole it, we
want them. Obviously. Is there any pattern to the buildings the
soldiers have been attacking? Anything we can use to predict where
this mystery character might go next?”

She runs her fingers through her hair, getting
caught up in the problem, and zooms in and out on the map to check
for information about the locations. Apart from the fact that
they’re in some sort of line, jagged though it is, she can’t seem
to work out why they’ve been chosen. They look totally random – a
bank, a school, office buildings, a storage facility, and then
three places that aren’t big enough to be identified on the map.
Maybe shops or other businesses. None of them are owned by the same
people, according to the info Abial is pulling up and flicking onto
the holo for them to read.

BOOK: SLAM
8.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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