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‘Dad . . .’ I throw my arms around him, unsure if he will follow me or go into another tunnel.
‘I knew we could never hide how special you are,’ he murmurs against my hair. The basement door bangs open.
But before
I can say I’m sorry for failing them, or tell him I love him, the boots are on the stairs. I scramble into the hole. He restacks the bricks behind me, shutting out the light. My chest constricts in the darkness. And then he stops. A large crack of light still streams in to the tunnel from the basement. I can’t move.
The bricks crash onto the concrete floor and light floods back into the tunnel. Choking down the scream fighting to loose itself, I struggle forward in the dirt, away from the growing light. I must keep moving forward. I try to forget Dad, and Mom and Amie in the other tunnel, as I crawl through the cold soil.
Keep moving forward.
I repeat it over and over, afraid that if I stop I will be paralysed again. But somehow I do keep moving forward, further and further into darkness, until cold steel clamps down on my leg. I scream as it digs into my skin and begins drawing me back – back to the light and the men in boots, back to the Guild. I tear against the packed dirt of the tunnel, but the claw is stronger and each desperate lunge I make back towards the darkness drives the metal deeper into my calf.
There is no fighting them.
2
As they pull me from the escape tunnel, someone jabs a needle in my wounded leg. I thrash as the liquid burns through my calf, but suddenly I’m calm. When one of the officers helps me stand in the damp basement, I smile at him. I can’t remember being happier.
‘Patch that up,’ barks a tall official coming down the basement stairs. He’s not like the others, who are dressed in typical soldier’s regalia. He is older and very handsome. His jaw is too smoothly sculpted to be natural, but the slight grey peppering his styled hair gives away his age. His nose, eyes, and teeth are too perfect, and I bet he’s been taking advantage of renewal patches. He has the kind of face they put on the Stream to read the news. I blink dreamily at him as a medic begins cleaning the wound from the claw. A group of women scurry down behind the official and begin wiping my face and combing my hair. It feels so nice I want to fall asleep. The only thing keeping me awake is the cold, gritty concrete under my bare feet. I’ve lost my shoes in the struggle.
‘You gave her too much,’ the official grumbles. ‘I said get her Stream-ready, not dose her out of her mind.’
‘I’m sorry. She was really fighting us,’ one of the officers tells him. I can hear the grin in his voice.
‘Fix it.’
A moment later another needle pricks my arm, and I stop smiling. I’m still calm, but the euphoria is fading.
‘Adelice Lewys?’ the official asks, and I nod. ‘Do you understand what’s going on?’
I try to say yes but nothing comes out, so I bob my head once more.
‘There’s a Stream crew upstairs and most of your neighbourhood. I’d prefer we didn’t have to drag you off looking like a loose thread, but if you try that again I’ll have him dose you. Do you understand what I’m saying?’ He points to the medic who has finished healing my wound.
I manage to squeak, ‘Yes.’
‘Good girl. We’ll deal with this later,’ he says, gesturing to the escape tunnel. ‘Your job is to smile and look thrilled to be selected. Can you do that?’
I stare at him.
The official sighs and cocks his head to activate the microscopic complant embedded over his left ear. The device automatically connects you to any other complant user or wall-communication panel. I’ve seen men in the metro chatting on them, but my father’s role as a mechanic doesn’t warrant the privilege of having one implanted. A moment later I’m privy to the man’s one-sided conversation.
‘Hannox, do you have them? No, hold her.’ Turning back to me, he points to the hole my mother and Amie disappeared through. ‘Let’s pretend my colleague has someone you love very much in his custody, and your performance for the Stream crew decides whether she lives or dies. Can you look thrilled now?’
I muster up the brightest smile I can and flash it at him.
‘Not bad, Adelice.’ But then he frowns and pushes away the grooming crew. ‘Are you idiots? This is a retrieval. She can’t wear cosmetics!’
I look away as he continues to berate the aestheticians, and search for signs of my father. He’s nowhere, but as my eyes scan the wall I can’t make out any other cracks that could hide a passage. Of course, until twenty minutes ago I hadn’t known about even the first two passages.
‘Are we clear?’ the official asks the medic.
‘Give her one more minute.’
‘I’m fine,’ I say with a smile, practising for the Stream crew. But as soon as I speak, my stomach contracts hard and sends my dinner back up my throat. I double over and retch up pot roast and frothy cream.
‘Fantastic,’ the official bellows. ‘Can’t I even get a competent squad?’
