Assassin: Book Four in the Enhanced Series Read online

  I nod.

  “Exactly. I mean, it’s not the best way to spend our wedding night…but there you go,” I laugh.

  He smiles too, falling short of my giggle.

  “Practice…then dinner, maybe?” he asks.

  “As long as it’s here, and not down there,” comes my swift reply.

  And so, for the next couple of hours, I turn my attention to my powers once more. And in the quiet of our new home, I begin flashing orders into Adryan’s mind, forcing him to act out certain tasks that I find rather amusing.

  At one point, I even get him to tell a joke. It falls flat, obviously, and his ability to deliver the punchline is a little off, but nevertheless, he tries. And like Zander taught me, making people do things against their nature is the hardest thing of all.

  And what could be more against the nature of a Savant than telling a joke?!

  The tasks are mostly small in nature, though, and therefore a little easier for me to communicate. Still, Adryan’s memory of performing each remains jumbled and blurred after, which is an important characteristic of dispensing such orders.

  In the end, I need to operate under the radar, and each order I give needs to remain hidden somewhere deep within my target’s subconscious. If they’re fully aware of what they’re doing, then the finger of blame might just fall on me. I can’t afford for that to happen.

  Yet later that evening, there’s one final order that I wish to deliver, one that builds in me as I enjoy a glass of wine, and my inhibitions begin to relax.

  Staring into Adryan’s grey-blue eyes across the dinner table, I consider that there’s one part of our wedding day that should be maintained, one tradition of marriage in Outer Haven that I’d like to bring here to the High Tower.

  So as I gaze at him, I drop a final order into his head. I watch those silver eyes fade a little as the order takes hold, and feel my heart-rate climbing as he stands from his chair and moves slowly around to me.

  His fingers reach down, and he pulls me to my feet. And gazing up, I watch with my breath stuck inside me as he gently leans down and presses his lips to mine, soft and warm.

  Our first kiss as a married couple.

  And when he pulls away, a little smile forms on his face, and I quickly trace his thoughts to see what he’s feeling.

  I see joy, something visceral and real. And the same feeling blooms in me.

  I may have imparted the order. But one thing is obvious: he was only too happy to carry it out.

  2

  I wake the following morning to the smell of coffee. It’s not something I’m used to drinking, and yet appears to be a favourite of my new husband.

  The scent gets a little stronger as the door to the bedroom opens, and he sweeps in with a chrome flask full of the stuff. Setting it down on the bedside table of the overly spacious room, he takes a seat on the bed as I shuffle the covers up over me to ensure no spare flesh is showing.

  Last night, after dinner concluded, we slept in separate rooms. I had been concerned that we’d only have a single bedroom in the apartment, but those were quickly doused. According to Adryan, many couples here sleep separately, something that supposedly allows for optimum levels of rest.

  Frankly, I don’t even know why they bother with marriage here at all, especially seeing as their kids are taken to be raised elsewhere. I wouldn’t be surprised if the concept of marriage faded completely, losing its final, fingertip-grip on this cold world.

  “I hope you like your coffee strong.” My mind switches back on, and my eyes roll up to Adryan’s. “That’s how we drink it here. It’s good to get the brain functioning in the morning. Did you sleep well?”

  I nod and smack my lips, tasting the lingering wine. I foolishly overindulged again. I’ll have to forgive myself, seeing as it was my wedding night.

  “Good. I need to get off to work. You’ll be meeting Mrs Spencer and Mrs Paulson at 11AM, down at the consumption level. Go to the core of the level and they’ll find you there…”

  “OK, and which one has the security engineer as her husband?”

  “Mrs Spencer. But pretend you don’t know that. Try to act naturally, and…actually, I don’t need to tell you this. You’re far better at acting ‘natural’ around Unenhanced women than I am.”

  I should hope so.

  He smiles and lifts his eyes to the blank space of wall behind my bed. Only now it’s not blank, adorned instead with the only decoration I’ve added to this otherwise colourless room.

  “Your parents,” he says, looking at the picture.

  I turn my eyes to it as well, and look at the faded edges and slightly distorted details. And once more, I say a quick internal ‘thank you’ to Tess for having it restored.

  I’ll always be grateful, Tess. Always.

  “I like to keep it near me when I sleep. Like they’re watching over me.”

  Adryan looks at the picture for a few moments, before turning his eyes back to me.

  “I’ll remember my promise, Brie. I’ll try to find out more about them for you.”

  And with a peck to the cheek that conjures the memory of our first real kiss the previous night, he disappears from the room, leaving me alone.

  I wonder briefly whether he even remembers it. It was an order I put in his head after all…

  Somehow, I feel a bit foolish for doing it now. My default setting is to blame the wine.

  Stupid alcohol, I mutter internally.

  Although, I’m not entirely displeased with the outcome.

  I spend the early morning sorting out my clothes and getting myself mentally prepared. My choice of attire will predominantly be the less flattering garments I brought along with me, namely any long pants or jeans I have, shirts, sweaters, and blouses. Unless there’s call for it, the dresses will stay hidden within my wardrobe.

  As I try my best to busy myself, the echoing voice of my brother begins to pulse from the depths of my subconscious, and I feel an immediate swell of joy to hear him.

  I quickly stop what I’m doing, rush to the transparent walls, and issue an order to the apartment to make them as see-through as possible.

  “Maximum transparency,” comes my demand.

  It seems to work. The walls – currently semi-faded – become fully clear and my eyes spread to the depths of the northern quarter, visible in the distance away to the far right of the window.

  I hear my brother’s voice again.

  Brie…are you safe? Are you OK?

  Looking out with a smile, I answer: I’m fine. How are you? How is Drum?

  Good. We’re both good. How was the wedding?

  Brief, I answer. It’s weird here. But I have some direction now.

  Direction?

  I’m surprised he doesn’t know. I suppose Adryan hasn’t yet had a chance to update the Nameless on what we’ve been getting up to.

  Oh, I’m just about to go and meet this woman, an Unenhanced, I say. She’s married to a Savant here who works in security. He may enlighten us as to the structure of the top of the High Tower.

  There’s a short delay before Zander answers.

  OK. Be careful. Update me when you have something more concrete. I will try to speak to you as often as possible. But…I’m going to be busy here.

  There’s some urgency to his telepathic voice. Our conversation flows more normally now, as if I’m speaking to him in a dark room. The inflection in his words is growing in clarity.

  Is everything OK? Are things getting more dangerous there? I ask.

  Again, a short delay.

  Then, he says: Just keep your mind on your task, Brie. You have your mission. Don’t let yourself be distracted by anything that happens. Nothing, OK?

  Why…what’s going to happen? I ask, a tension rising.

  Promise me, Brie, is all he says.

  I nod, and then remember that he can’t see me. I have to vocalise my agreement.

  I promise, I say.

  And with that, his presence fades.

&
nbsp; I can’t say it’s the best way to leave things, given the brevity of our psychic conversations. As I prepare to vacate the apartment, I begin to wonder just what he’s talking about, and what could be going on down there in Outer Haven.

  Spreading my eyes to the northern quarter, I search with my Hawk-eyes for some sign of large Con-Cop patrols or groups of Stalkers. Are their numbers proliferating down there? Are they tightening the noose on the Nameless?

  I see nothing, my sight mostly blocked by buildings and the misty haze that seems to settle across the northern streets most days. Yet whatever’s going on down there, it’s clearly got my brother’s back against the wall. Something tells me that this secret war between the Consortium and the Nameless isn’t going to remain so secret for long…

  Yet, as he says, I can’t concern myself with such things right now. I need to maintain a solitary focus, and not let anything outside my own little – well, not so little – mission distract me.

  So turning my attention back to my late morning meeting, I take a breath and step out of the apartment, letting the door swiftly shut and lock behind me. Moving to the nearest lift, I find the floor entirely empty, something that is probably common during working hours, and the doors open automatically, sensing my presence.

  I step in and set my hand into the scanner. It’s my first time doing so, my first time venturing out into enemy territory without Adryan, and thus results in a pulse of adrenaline as the scanner quickly reads my security permissions.

  Then, I simply say: “Level 6,” and the lift quickly shoots me down through the building to one of the few places I have free access to.

  When the doors open, I feel a renewed set of nerves as the sprawling floor appears before me. Stepping forward, I begin venturing towards the centre of the level, where a grouping of comfortable chairs and tables have been set out for casual meets.

  Surrounding them, various cafes and shops and restaurants, all self service, spread out to the boundary of the building, partition walls set up between them to give a measure of privacy while also maintaining the largely open feel to the level.

  The place isn’t as busy as yesterday, perhaps owing to the time, and yet still contains enough Savants to put me on edge. They drift about in their usual manner, dressed in their slightly different shades of grey.

  I assume that most of those wearing the lighter grey colours live here, while those in the marginally darker shades probably live outside the building and merely come here to work. Nevertheless, it would appear that these communal levels are open to all Savants, whether they live here or not. The same cannot be said for the rest of the Enhanced.

  None of their kind live here, of course, although some do operate here on a working basis. It would appear that certain roles require their unique skills, with security being primary among them.

  In a sense, I’m surprised to see members of the City Guard dot the place, dressed in their grey-black uniforms and well stocked with weaponry. Savants, after all, aren’t exactly predisposed to committing crime. Any sort of criminal activity is triggered by some emotion – greed, anger, fear, hate – and that’s something the inhabitants of this place are sorely lacking.

  I suppose it’s more a measure of protection against the threat of the Nameless, as well as to provide aid in the case of accidents. Nevertheless, the security numbers, from what I’ve seen so far, appear to be fairly sparse.

  It’s one of the few positive things I’ve noted since I arrived. Their perceived lack of vulnerability may turn out to be a great boon for me and my mission.

  As I near the centre of the level, my eyes find the rare shades of blue amid the greys and silvers and metallic hues. There, sitting rigidly in chairs and talking quietly, I see the two women I’m here to meet.

  A quick inspection tells me that one is older than the other, but neither are ancient. The older woman appears to be in her early forties, with the younger one maybe a decade or so her junior.

  The initial judgement I make is that both are similarly inclined as Sophie, their lives here turning them semi-robotic. It’s a snap call that takes their posture and seemingly false expressions as inspiration.

  As I near, their eyes quickly find me, however, and smiles appear on their faces. Again, they remind me of my liaison; half genuine, half artificial.

  The older woman, her hair a mousy blonde and eyes blue, steps forward first, and reaches out to accept my hand.

  “Well, you must be Brie Shaw,” she says, applying my husband’s name. “My name is Mary Spencer, and I’m very pleased to meet you.”

  “Um, likewise, Mrs Spencer, it’s my pleasure.”

  “Oh please, let’s dispense with the pleasantries and use our first names from now on.”

  “I totally agree, Mary,” says the other, younger woman, her hair a similar colour and style but her eyes a more daring brown. She steps forward and extends her hand. “My name’s Lucinda Paulson, but please do call me Lucy. Welcome to the High Tower, Brie. And more importantly, welcome to our rare breed here.”

  The two women laugh somewhat mechanically. They must be talking about us being Unenhanced. I guess it’s nice to know that they haven’t entirely given up on their roots.

  The manner in which they speak, and behave, however, is evidence that this place has influenced them. It’s obvious enough that they’re not Savants, but they’re making a decent fist of imitating them with their staring eyes and rather mechanical manner of movement.

  I guess it’s something I should try to mimic too. The better I can fit in, as Adryan told me, the easier my time here will be.

  With our brief greetings concluded, the women lead me over to a nearby café to fetch some coffee. Using the self-service machinery in place, they dispense the drinks into unpleasant metal flasks and return to me, sitting me down at a table in a fairly open area of the level.

  I’d rather head off to the corners, where it’s less exposed, but seem to have no choice in the matter.

  “So, Brie, tell us a little about yourself,” says Mary. “We both saw you at the ceremony recently, so know bits and pieces, but would love to know more.”

  They look at me eagerly, passing me the stage. Feeling rather uncomfortable – I’ve never much liked the limelight, whether with a couple of people or an entire crowd – I set about explaining my past in the sparsest way possible.

  As I do, however, I realise that it will be a good way to find out about these women. And, most importantly, Mary Spencer and her husband.

  Once I’m done, therefore, I turn the attention on them.

  “So, how about you, Mary, how long have you lived here?”

  That’s my first question, and one I hope will open the door to many more. She smiles with that put-upon look and sets about offering an answer.

  “Oh, I’ve been here for many years,” she starts. “Back since the days when marrying up was far less common than it is now. Somehow, I found myself under the admiring eye of a Savant, which was even rarer back then. I was, as it happens, the first Unenhanced to marry up into the High Tower. Would you believe it!”

  “And doesn’t she let us know it at any given opportunity,” adds Lucy with a little roll of the eyes that makes me readjust my initial judgement of these women. Clearly, they have some humour at least.

  “Well, it’s quite my claim to fame,” says Mary proudly. “Although Brie here has her own, what with your performance after that terrible attack at Culture Corner. I haven’t been there in some time, but used to enjoy it when I lived in the southern quarter. Tell us, Brie, how is it over in Outer Haven? I hear the people are living in fear for their lives. Such a terrible thing…”

  You don’t know the half of it...

  “We’ve had a few difficult weeks. It’s certainly very different there to here,” I say, spreading my eyes around the floor.

  “Indeed it is,” says Lucy. “Unlike this old dinosaur here, I lived in Outer Haven far more recently, so my memory of moving here is a fair bit clearer. A
lthough, it’s still been nearly…what, eight years now…wow, how time flies,” she adds.

  I can tell that Lucy is the more playful of the two. Clearly, this place hasn’t quite drummed that out of her yet.

  “It’s a fine place to live, though, Brie, once you get the hang of things,” says Mary. “We’re both here to help you transition if you need us.”

  She smiles again, and I see an opening.

  “Thank you,” I say. “Perhaps, um, we could have dinner sometime with our husbands? I’d dearly like to make friends quickly, if possible. You know, to stave off the homesickness…”

  Her expression exudes a mix of tiny emotions, which a quick dart into her thoughts clarify. First, it’s obvious that asking to have dinner with another couple is an unusual request, particularly with someone you’ve just met. More powerful, however, is her feeling of understanding at my need to find people on a similar wavelength to me.

  It’s obvious that Mary went through something similar when she first came here, and still battles with it to this day. Being the first Unenhanced to come live here, I can only imagine how hard it must have been for her. And it’s written right there across her thoughts right now.

  So when she answers, I get what I’m looking for. And I didn’t even need to manipulate her…

  “Oh…of course, Brie,” she says. “I’d be delighted to host you and Mr Shaw.”

  “So would I,” adds Lucy, clearly not wanting to be left out. “We’re both here to help, Brie.”

  I thank both ladies for their kindness, although the offer from Mary is the only one that interests me.

  And with the first, albeit simple, stage of my latest task complete, I set about relaxing a little bit more.

  More questions begin to flow from my tongue, and I enter into the conversation with a little more conviction. Naturally, my interest is in discovering more about life here, particularly pertaining to the summit of the building and those that rule us.

  “So, does Director Cromwell ever come down?” I ask as casually as I can manage. “I’ve heard the members of the Consortium rarely venture beyond the summit.”