Hex Page 12

  “Is everyone a Hex?” Ali asked, remembering Raven’s insistence that the CPS had got it wrong. “Definitely a Hex?”

  “I guess so,” Luciel said. “No one who comes here is ever sent back home again, anyhow.”

  • • •

  When Wraith returned to the hotel suite Kez was packing up the electronic equipment.

  “What are you doing?” he asked immediately. “Where’s Raven?”

  “She’s spoken to Ali,” Kez said, trying to choose the response least likely to annoy Wraith. “She thinks it’s time to get closer to the lab; Ali wants us to be ready to break in if she gets into any trouble.”

  “I can’t believe that Raven would care about that,” Wraith said sarcastically. “Or that you do, come to think of it.”

  “I don’t want anything to happen to Ali,” Kez said, carefully packing up the homemade explosives.

  “You surprise me,” Wraith said coldly and Kez felt a sudden flash of anger. He felt that Wraith was treating him unfairly, especially considering that he had lied for him, so he could find his sister.

  “Why do I surprise you?” he asked, “You told Raven you’d never known anyone with fewer morals, so how can you be surprised that I lied to you?”

  Wraith met Kez’s eyes.

  “Maybe because I wanted to trust you,” he said. “I tend to automatically suspect Raven’s advice because I don’t understand her motivations. But I thought I did understand you.”

  “Because there isn’t much to understand?” Kez asked.

  “Because you’re not so different from the gangers I knew in Denver,” Wraith told him. He studied Kez for a while. “I can guess why you lied, Kez, and this time I’ll forget it. But don’t do it again. I have to be able to trust someone, and this group is so mismatched that it really has to be you.”

  “Does that mean you want the group to stay together?” Kez asked, considering how such an intention would affect him.

  “Perhaps, if we’re successful in breaking Rachel and Ali out of the lab.”

  “OK, then.” Kez had made his decision. “You can trust me.”

  Wraith nodded, although he still wasn’t sure if he could believe Kez’s promise. He began crating up the rest of the gear they would need to take with them, deliberately ignoring Raven’s heaps of lasdisks. Now that Ali was inside the lab the operation had become too serious for his sister’s eccentricity.

  Raven emerged from her room before he was finished, obviously ready to leave. She didn’t look very different from when she had first arrived in the gangland slum district. But instead of her jacket she was carrying a long coat, one of her more recent acquisitions, which she began to load with some of the smaller and more complex pieces of electrical equipment.

  “The Countess has transport and muscle backup waiting,” she told Wraith. “We’ll need a combat weapon of some kind for Kez.”

  “Can you use a gun?” Wraith asked the boy and Kez shrugged.

  “I’m better with a knife.”

  “Too risky,” Raven said, echoing Wraith’s unspoken thoughts. “You won’t get close enough to use it.”

  “I’ll show you how to operate a laser pistol,” Wraith said. “It sights automatically and it burns rather than blasts.”

  “Is that what you carry?” Kez asked the ganger and Raven grinned.

  “It’s generally regarded as a breach of etiquette to ask a ganger that question,” she informed him.

  “Since we’re going in on this raid together, it’s best to know what kind of firepower each of us has,” Wraith pointed out. “I have been carrying a laser pistol but I think breaking into the lab will require something heavier. I’ll get that from the Countess and you can use my pistol.”

  “What about Raven?” Kez asked curiously, eyeing the deep inner pockets of the girl’s long coat, into which her tools had disappeared.

  “Keep guessing,” she told him, with a sideways glance at Wraith. Kez looked inquiringly at the ganger.

  “I don’t even know if she carries weapons,” he said. “Is there anything you want from the Countess, Raven?”

  “If there is, I’ll deal with it myself,” she said. “But don’t worry about how I’ll defend myself, Wraith. This isn’t the first time I’ve been part of this kind of operation.” She smiled slightly, but didn’t say anything more, and neither Wraith nor Kez asked anything else.

  They left the hotel suite half an hour after Wraith’s return, once the skimmer was loaded with what they would need to attack the lab. Raven dealt with checking out of the Stratos, paying from one of the immense credit balances she had persuaded a bank to give her. She also arranged to have her disk collection packaged up and sent to Bob Tarrell, with the compliments of AdAstra. Wraith had refused to take it with them and Raven, now that she was no longer suffering from the monotony of the search, didn’t really feel the need to surround herself with high-decibel rock music.

  However, she did retain a few disks, so that as the skimmer wound its way down through the levels of the city, a pounding backbeat filled the vehicle. Raven drove fast, bringing back memories for Kez of the sickening trip she had sent the flitter on when he first encountered her. Wraith sat in a grim silence, mentally checking and rechecking his plans. He was very aware of the fact that Ali was in Kalden’s laboratory and felt that it was his responsibility to get her out again. Too many people had died already for him to sacrifice Ali for a chance to save Rachel.

  • • •

  Ali had begun to dread finding Rachel. It had been made clear to her that anyone who’d been in the lab for over a year was unlikely to be found undamaged. And some of the experiments being performed in the lab were horrific. Luciel had actually been one of the luckier ones. The CPS scientists had used their imaginations to the utmost when devising experiments to test the capabilities of the child Hexes brought into the lab. On Ali’s floor alone there seemed to be endless corridors of test subjects and she had no idea what might lie above or below. Luciel had informed her that the elevator was restricted to laboratory staff and had no more idea than her of the actual size of the facility.

  Ali hadn’t found Rachel among the children, and any kind of methodical search was proving difficult. She had first ventured out of her room when the others were having the first of the two meals of the day, served at midmorning. But before long the silent corridors were very different. The younger children seemed relentlessly hyperactive and antisocial, racing down the corridors and banging into anyone who got in their way. Then a lot of the older ones were unwilling even to speak to Luciel, let alone Ali, and there were many who were unable to speak. They were forced to progress slowly and Ali was grateful that Luciel had agreed to help her, since most of the other test subjects regarded her with suspicion. Her companion explained it as jealousy, that she hadn’t been subjected to the methods of the scientists’ endless quest for knowledge. His bruised arms and jerky, uncertain movements were almost a badge of honor in the facility and Ali discovered that he had been there longer than most people.

  “Two and a half years,” he told her with resignation. “I think my immune system is becoming resistant to the drugs they keep testing on me. A lot of the others died from the course of injections.”

  “If you’ve been here that long you must have seen Rachel brought in,” Ali said and Luciel sighed.

  “I don’t notice everyone,” he said. “It’s only recently I’ve been trying to meet new inmates, and I don’t always realize when they’re bringing in someone new. Besides there could be other floors full of us. Believe me, Ali, if I knew anything about your friend I’d tell you.”

  “I know,” Ali said, trusting him absolutely. Luciel was trying hard to help her find Rachel. Since their search of the corridors was proving impossible, he took her to meet other people who might know when the girl had been brought in and if she was still there.

  The first person he took her to find was, he explained, difficult to deal with. But he had been at the lab nearly as lon
g as Luciel and might know something about Rachel. Thomas’s initial reaction to Ali’s presence was not positive.

  “What do you want?” he asked gruffly, when Luciel knocked at the open door of his room. He was a stocky teenager, at least as old as Ali, built like a wrestler. But he didn’t stand up to greet them, watching suspiciously from where he sat on his bed. His thick, muscular frame was concealed by what appeared to be body armor strapped to his arms and legs. Smooth white metal enclosed his shins and ankles in a viselike grip, similar devices were attached to his forearms and wrists, two more ringed his torso and encircled his neck. He looked almost robotic, so thoroughly encased in metal. Thomas saw her looking and glared.

  “What are you staring at?” he demanded and got to his feet. His movements were heavy and ponderous and there was a mechanical purr from the devices strapped to his legs.

  “Calm down, Tom,” Luciel said placatingly. “Ali’s only just arrived. She’s trying to find a friend of hers, a little girl.” He spoke quickly, as if to avert sudden violence, and the ferocious expression on Thomas’s face gradually smoothed out.

  “Don’t stare at me,” he told Ali, who flushed, retreating a little behind Luciel.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled uncomfortably.

  “Just wait till they start taking you apart,” Thomas told her roughly. “You won’t be looking so cool then.” He clenched a fist, enclosed in a metal mesh, and electronics hummed audibly. “I hate that noise,” he told her fiercely. “I try to lie still at night so I won’t have to hear it. They’ve made it so I don’t even want to move anymore, but when they come to check on me I have to. They take me up in the elevator and make me walk round a room while they watch me. Do you know what that feels like?”

  “I’m sorry,” Ali said again, but couldn’t quell the flood of bitterness emanating from Tom.

  “I used to play basketball at school,” he told her. “I was gonna be a professional. Not much chance of that now, is there?”

  “I was going to be a scientist,” Luciel said quietly and Ali shivered.

  “I wanted to be a holovid director,” she said, realizing that, even if she did escape from the lab, that would never happen now.

  They all stood still, looking at each other. Thomas was the first to break the silence.

  “What was that you were saying earlier?” he asked Luciel.

  “Oh.” Luciel came back to earth abruptly. “Ali’s looking for a friend, a girl named Rachel. She was captured by the CPS about a year and a half ago. We were hoping you might remember someone like that coming into the lab.”

  “What does she look like?” Tom asked and Ali tried to visualize the picture Wraith had shown her.

  “Dark brown hair in a short bob, brown eyes, light brown skin, a big smile,” she recited.

  “If she was brought here she wouldn’t be smiling long,” Tom said and then shook his head. “No, I don’t remember her. But wasn’t it about then that they were doing memory experiments?” He looked at Luciel rather than at Ali and the other boy’s eyes clouded.

  “It might have been,” he said. “I find it hard to keep track of time sometimes.”

  “What were the memory experiments?” Ali asked, with an ominous feeling.

  “They only went on for a couple of months,” Tom told her. “They were abandoned because almost everyone who was experimented on died.” Ali blanched and Luciel shot a warning look at Thomas, taking up the narrative himself.

  “They linked up a group of kids to a computer database,” he said, “with electrodes so they couldn’t disengage themselves, and ran it twenty-four hours a day.” He thought for a second. “I think the idea was to find out how much information a Hex could hold in their head, since a lot of us have eidetic memories.”

  “What happened?” Ali managed to ask, finding her voice again.

  “Most people did die, I’m afraid,” Luciel admitted, more gently than his friend had. “But two or three are still around—one of them might be able to tell you if Rachel was on the project.”

  “You’re kidding yourself,” Tom told him, raising his voice a little to cover the drone of machinery as he moved back to his bed. “None of those flakes will be telling you anything.”

  “Why not?” Ali asked. Luciel wouldn’t look at her and she turned back to Tom.

  “They’re complete null-brainers,” he said callously. “Esther sits in her room dribbling and playing with her food, Mikhail’s covered in more machinery than I am, and Revenge has to be strapped to her bed with restraints because otherwise she tries to claw your eyes out.” He paused to see how his words had affected Ali and seemed satisfied with her expression because he continued: “None of them’ll tell you anything because they won’t tolerate anyone anywhere near ’em, and even if they were willing to, their brains are too fritzed to remember what happened yesterday, let alone the name of some girl who might not even have been sent here in the first place.”

  “I’m sorry, Ali,” Luciel said softly. “Tom’s right. If Rachel was part of those experiments, she’s lucky to be dead.”

  8

  HELL IS MURKY

  Kez had a feeling of déjà vu as the skimmer coasted along the last bridge and came to rest near the spur of walkway that led to the Countess’s center of operations, where she traded information and abilities. Kez moved to unfasten his seat belt but Wraith forestalled him.

  “Wait,” he said. “Someone should stay and guard the skimmer. We need this stuff.”

  “OK,” Kez said, trying hard not to remember what had been the outcome of his last attempt at watching a vehicle for Wraith. “But what can I do if someone does try to steal it?”

  “Don’t confront them,” Raven said. “They won’t be able to unlock the doors anyway.” She got out of the driver’s seat and Wraith followed her example. Sitting in the front of the vehicle, Kez felt a little abandoned as they set off toward the building together. But, before they were completely out of sight, Raven turned and waved. Wraith, in what appeared to be a demonstration of trust, didn’t look back at all.

  • • •

  This time Wraith wasn’t challenged as he approached the building. When he entered, it looked like it hadn’t changed at all since his last visit. However, only one of the two guards from last time, the woman, stood in front of the door which led upstairs.

  “Names and business,” she demanded, although her eyes showed recognition as she glanced at Wraith.

  “Wraith and Raven,” the ganger said, addressing the vidcom screen on the wall beside the guard. “The Countess knows my business already.”

  “You may come up,” the voice spoke out of the wall unit. “Leave your weapons behind.”

  “OK,” Wraith agreed, obediently handing over his laser pistol and one of his knives. The guard accepted them and turned expectantly to Raven.

  “No,” Raven told her and the guard shifted her grip on the combat rifle she carried.

  “Do you have some reason for objecting?” the Countess asked from the vidcom, although the screen was still blacked out.

  “Just caution,” Raven told her, with a shrug. “If I have to disarm, I’d rather stay down here.”

  “In some cases I am willing to make exceptions,” the Countess said dryly, “and I am willing to make one for you. But any trouble and you won’t know what hit you.”

  “I scan,” Raven said, slipping into the gangland argot that seemed to overtake her in the slums.

  “Go ahead,” the guard said, with a sour look at Raven, stepping aside for them to pass by.

  Wraith was curious to see how his sister would react to the disorienting stairway with its mirror shielding, and noticed her expression of distaste as she ascended beside him. She walked as slowly and carefully as he did, disliking the loss of balance that the multiple reflections engendered.

  “Effective, isn’t it?” he said, and she gave him a sideways glance.

  “Narcissistic,” she said. “But I’d like to know what’s behind it. Shield
ing like this could conceal anything, motion sensors, monitors, transmitters, maybe a few explosives just in case.” Her cold smile was multiplied in every direction. “It seems as if you’ve found a good contact, though.”

  “I hope so,” Wraith replied as they reached the top of the stairs and the mirrored wall slid away.

  The Countess was waiting for them, watching with interest as they entered. Raven’s dark eyes flickered over the screens and terminals that filled the room before coming to rest on the woman herself with the intensity that often alarmed people. The Countess returned her gaze speculatively.

  “You must be a technician as well as a hacker, if you could guess all that about my shielding,” she said. “Is that why you wouldn’t give up your weapons?”

  “Good guess,” Raven replied, with a grin. “I’m not biting.”

  “I don’t like customized weaponry,” the Countess told her matter-of-factly. “Always lets you down when you really need it. Makes me think it’s a bad idea to tinker with it.”

  “I don’t tinker,” Raven said in annoyance, stung into a rejoinder. The Countess’s expression brightened and Raven narrowed her eyes in response, disliking the way she was being manipulated.

  “Your transport’s ready, Wraith,” the Countess continued. “I’ll have it brought into the building. I’ve got muscle for you as well but the main question is where you want to take them. You originally contacted me to locate your sister’s adoptive parents and you claimed then you weren’t planning a retrieval. Since I ascertained the whereabouts of the Hollis family, you have bought some heavy artillery and now you want muscle as well. I doubt that you are intending to break into the Hollises’ apartment with quite that much firepower.”

  “Rachel wasn’t at the apartment,” Wraith admitted cautiously, keeping an eye on Raven. “I want to retrieve her from the place she is now.”

  “Which is?” The Countess waited, her stance making it clear that no further business could be done without an answer.

  “A laboratory run by the CPS,” Raven said suddenly.