SLAM (8 page)

And protect it they must. Serena knows that if
the slumdwellers aren’t kept passive by the Institute – pushed down
mentally, with any resistance crushed – they would try to overpower
the Watch and sever the tube in order to cut off military backup
arriving from the other Cities. This is just one of the reasons any
hint of rebellion is terminated immediately, with extreme
prejudice.

This is why ARC exists.

As she watches, they pass over the edge of the
townships, the shacks here not even close to being buildings; just
shelters built with whatever people can find. Broken pieces of
transal lean against walls made from food packaging and ancient
metal poles. This is all the people have available to them, dug up
from dumps and scrounged from the City’s trash heaps. All the
government will let them have, and the Institute finds anyone who
thinks they are entitled to more. Finds them, and removes them from
the equation.

Suddenly they’re speeding up, and she can
hardly make out the different shanties anymore. It’s just a blur as
they head for the mountains.

The land beyond the slums turns swiftly to
desert; aching miles of arid land, stretching as far as the eye can
follow. It gives her a headache, so she closes her eyes, pretending
to sleep, but really just daydreaming about a successful mission.
If she fails, there’s the ever-present risk of death or capture.
But what preys on her mind more than that is the idea that if she
messes this mission up, there’s no way that her father will let her
go after Damon. And if she can’t go after Damon, she doesn’t know
if anyone ever will.

When she feels the transport slowing, she
opens her eyes and glances at the digital timepiece on the wall.
Barely an hour has passed; Google, that’s a fast journey. People
start scuffling, standing and grabbing their bags. The soldiers are
already up and waiting by the door. Abial shuts down her datapad
and grins at Serena.

“Alright, Gabrielle, let’s go and meet our
ride.”

“Sure thing, Laura. We’re supposed to go to
the East exit, I think.”

As they wait in line to disembark, she
deliberately keeps her gaze away from the soldiers, busying herself
with the datapad balanced in her hand. She doesn’t want them to pay
too much attention to her, just in case they come across each other
again. It’s obvious that these troops are being sent over to back
up the local Watch presence; Gav Belias isn’t just renowned for his
good looks, he’s also a talented tactician and brilliant fighter,
according to the ARC files on him. He’ll be wanted wherever the
action is.

She’ll have to look his files up again to make
sure she’s prepared if she has to fight him, but for now she wants
him to remember her as nothing more than a star-struck girl. If
he’s as good as they say he is, he won’t be easily fooled, and
there are many things that could give her or Abial away as more
than they seem. Fortunately, there are several people between them,
and he doesn’t seem to be paying much attention to her.

For now, it seems, they’re safe.

THERE’S A MAJOR
military presence in the Second City station, but
citizens from the tube are just rushed through a body scanner that
no one is really paying attention to, and released toward their
pick-up points. It’s all too obvious that the soldiers are worried
about someone leaving, not someone arriving.

Super, that bodes well for our
exit
,
she
thinks sarcastically. Their leaving strategy is
flimsy at best, and clearly getting through security in the other
direction is going to be nigh impossible if it remains this
tight.

Not knowing what or who the Institute is
reacting to, they’ve been incapable of making a solid plan of any
kind, let alone come up with specific exit strategies. They don’t
even know what they’re hunting, yet. If it’s an item that won’t
make it through the scanners, they could drop it off with Kion’s
mysterious friend. If it’s a person ... well ... it depends if they
get to them in time. The chances of them pulling off a two-man
rescue effort aren’t high. But you learn to be adaptable at ARC,
and if they need to put together a plan on the fly, that’s what
they’ll do.

Worst case scenario: The mission
is unsuccessful
and
they can’t get back on the tube. Then they’d have to shack up
in the townships here for a while, try to lie low until the dust
clears, and figure out an extraction. Assuming they’re not dead, of
course. There’s no way they can take on the Institute by
themselves, so if they’re beaten to the target, the mission is
over. The best they could hope for then would be information to
take back to ARC.

“Laura, Gabrielle? Welcome to Second City.”
The voice that greets them is polite and soft. It takes a split
second for Serena’s brain to process, and then she’s turning and
smiling what she hopes is a winning smile.

“Oh, yes. Hello. Are you our escort?” Abial’s
voice is soft and simpering. Gross, but effective at blending them
in.

The boy who spoke appears to be
around fifteen, and is impeccably dressed in City fashion, with an
expensive comm unit riding the curve of his upper ear. His features
are interesting. Traces of what could be Korean heritage are
evident in the darkness and angles of his eyes, yet his high nose
is unmistakably European in origin.
He
tilts his head and speaks into the comm, the throat mic stuck to
his neck flashing green. As he does so, he makes an ‘A’ with his
fingers, so nonchalantly that it appears he’s merely twisting his
hands in boredom as he chats over the comm.

The A sign – the signal they were told to look
for. But the boy had recognized them with little trouble, it seems.
Do they stand out that much? Had he been told ahead of time who
they are and what they look like? Or have they already given
themselves away?

“Yes, Tomas, I have them. We’ll be around in a
minute.” Serena and Abial blink at each other for a moment,
confused, and then the boy gestures grandiosely toward the street
corner, his black eyes sparkling.

“If you’ll follow me, ladies, our pick up will
be just a moment.”

They obediently hurry after him, Serena still
worrying that they’re doing something to give themselves away. He’s
moving fast, and they almost trot to keep up. Surely that’s going
to attract attention. When he turns the corner and they’re out of
sight of the soldiers, though, he spins on his heel and grins at
them.

“Wotcha, girls. I’m Leaf.” The educated tones
are totally gone, street cant thickening his voice and making him
sound older, if a lot poorer. Serena opens her mouth to speak, but
he holds a finger up, waggling it.

“No time for that. Sol-patrol’s
comin’ around in five, had to bust ya outta there before they come
through. We gotta bit of a walk in front of us. Hope you’re in good
shape!” With that he clips off the earpiece – an elaborate fake,
Serena can now see. Which means no ride is coming. She hesitates,
thinking. Sol-patrol ... Soldier patrol? So they’re
already
running?

Rolling her eyes at Abial, she starts to speak
again, but the boy is already retreating down the road, and the
dull thud of military boots stepping in time is just audible around
the corner. Serena shuts her mouth with a snap and bolts after the
weird kid, wishing she’d been allowed to wear her boots instead of
flimsy, impractical shoes. She can feel every irregularity in the
street surface, and the burn of blisters forming is already
bothering her.

They travel rapidly, and every time they can’t
avoid a soldier group, Leaf takes on his ‘gentleman’ air again, so
rapidly that it bemuses the heck out of her. He’s like a chameleon,
switching from one personality to another without a pause, altering
everything about the way he carries himself – even his facial
expressions. It’s a dislocating sensation to watch it happen, let
alone try to keep up with it. They’re running, and then suddenly
walking at a gentle pace, admiring the scenery and being regaled
with the backstory of particular buildings, then abruptly running
again.

The impromptu tour is actually quite
interesting; Serena has only been into Fourth City twice now, as
it’s dangerous for untrained Psionics to leave the slums, and
learning about Second City is almost as good. Apart from a slightly
different layout, it’s difficult to tell them apart. And, under the
guise Leaf has chosen for them as tourists, she can gape up at the
towering buildings to her heart’s content.

It does go on for longer than she would like,
though. It’s getting dark and she’s extremely hungry by the time he
stops them.

He glances back and forth, then
leans casually on the wall, evidently waiting for a gap in
pedestrians. Wondering where they are, she looks around and sees
that they’re in a narrow street that seems to be bracketed by
closed shops. The stores around them are only two stories tall,
unlike most of the City. She can see a cam on the building
opposite, although they’re positioned just out of its line of
sight. It’ll be impossible to avoid
all
the security cameras, but she
appreciates the idea of keeping her face off as many as possible,
especially if they’re about to do something like … oh, break into a
building.

She ducks a bit farther back into the shadow,
then turns to see that Leaf has squatted down. He rustles for a few
minutes, setting her teeth on edge, although Abial looks perfectly
relaxed, as if she knows exactly what’s going on. It’s annoying,
and Serena is about to ask what’s taking so long when she hears the
familiar sound of an electric lock disengaging, and Leaf opens the
front door of what looks like a store that’s gone out of business.
Thick metal shutters guard the large window facing the street, and
the door appears sturdy, she notes approvingly. It should do for a
place to hide out while they try to find out what’s going on. Now
that they’re in the City, she hopes that they can access news feeds
that hold some information – at least what the public’s been told.
Leaf might know something useful as well. They could use any kind
of insight at this point. It’s hard to make a plan without
intel.

Night has crept up on them, now, and the sky
is almost totally dark. She glances down the road one more time,
then follows Abial and Leaf into the building, eager to get off the
streets and down to business. Shutting the door behind her, she
turns to check out the place.

“Here we go, folks. The owner got arrested two
weeks ago, but they ain’t showed anyone new around yet, so I took a
looksee, and I reckon it’ll be a suitable base for ya.” There’s a
note of pride in his voice, and suddenly he seems older again,
holding his body differently and looking even less the young
gentleman, more a ruffian in his late teens. He runs his fingers
through his hair, disrupting the harsh style it was combed into,
and grins broadly at them, looking rather devilish.

“Yeah, looks good.” Serena stops looking
around the shadowy room and grins back at him. “Smart move, thanks.
We thought we’d have to base in the townships, but this’ll work
much better, long’s no one comes looking to move in.”

She absently runs her fingers down the frame
on a dark workstation. The room is long and thin, with workstations
on both sides, and full of large shelves that run the length of the
place. Good for hiding behind if anyone comes poking around, she
thinks. Maybe this used to be a gamer cafe, or something. There’s a
door leading to another dark room, and some stairs that disappear
through a cut out in the low ceiling. More hiding spots. She grins
at Leaf, appreciative that he’s found a spot they can
use.

He nods at her, like he’s agreeing that he’s
done a good job. “Nah, luv. They have to list it on the street
census if there’s to be a new business, or what-have-ya. Don’t turn
lights on at night or nothin’ stupid like that, though.”

She shoots him a withering look that he merely
grins cheekily in response to, and then realizes that Abial’s
already setting up the datapad for long comms, checking in with the
base. Leaving her to it, Serena has a little poke around,
discovering that the door leads to a small kitchen with its own
exit – great if they have to leave in a hurry. Loping up the
stairs, she discovers a good-sized attic still packed with boxes.
It has windows at both ends that could also be used as emergency
exits if necessary. She pads back down, undoing the City hairstyle,
which is starting to itch behind her ears.