Night Whispers: The Complex Read online

  “That was a gift from my mom.” I glare at him.

  “What was?”

  “The hairbrush you just stole from me.”

  “I don’t see a hairbrush,” he says with a shrug. He turns to Reve. “Did you see me take a hairbrush?”

  Reve’s jaw works back and forth, making the veins on his neck bulge.

  “See?” the guard says to me. “You’ve got quite the imagination, sweet thing. Here.”

  “I’m not your sweet…”

  “Sakhi,” Reve interrupts. “Let it go.”

  “But…” I’m ready to throat punch the guy.

  My brother urges me forward. “Let. It. Go,” he insists, through gritted teeth.

  “But it’s all I had left of her.” I cast a glare over my shoulder at the guard disappearing from view.

  “At least you still have memories. Keep moving.” Reve forcefully propels me forward, along the polished white tiles.

  My nervous system is starting to short-circuit from being bushwhacked by hundreds of anxious individuals. My gaze turns upward, away from the chaos, in an attempt to quiet my nerves. I scan a dizzying array of doorways and walkways, more doorways, more walkways, stacked like metal game pieces. Red-uniformed armed guards are visible at every juncture. They patrol the passageways, high overhead. They zip along on hovering skateboards through the corridors, like bloody ants, tiny dots against the backdrop of the Complex.

  “I want one of those,” Reve says with a chuckle, his head lifting to follow my gaze.

  “What are they?”

  “They’re called Glyders. I read about them in the data we were given about the Complex. Cool, huh?” Then he frowns, his momentary lightness suppressed.

  This place is like being trapped inside a cancerous lesion growing on the surface of planet Lorn. I squint at a pinprick of light far overhead. The Complex looms so high I can’t tell if I’m actually seeing something or its merely a reflection of light.

  “Mr. Tchepikov?” I ask timidly.

  His grin grows wide and lecherous. “Call me Paki. No need for formalities here. You and I are going to get very, very close over the next two years.” He places his hot beefy hand against my spine.

  I arch my back, shrinking from his unwelcome touch.

  He scowls.

  “What?” he snaps. “What’s your question?”

  “What’s that?” I say, pointing at the dot of light overhead.

  He barely glances at where I’m indicating, mutters something about air or skylight, and impels me forward.

  “Hey,” Reve says. He stops, assuming a wall-like stance between me and Paki. “She’s fragile. Stop pushing her around.”

  “She’ll need to stop being fragile if she’s to survive the next two years,” Paki says, his black eyes ice-cold. “And you won’t always be around to protect her.”

  Reve puffs out his chest. “Is that a threat?”

  “Maybe,” Paki says, mimicking my brother’s crowing cock stance. “Remember there are no guarantees in this program.” He shoves Reve toward the row of terminals.

  Reve bristles, like he’s going to tear out Paki’s throat with his teeth.

  “Next,” the guy behind the desk calls, interrupting the attack. He trains his eyes on me.

  “Over here, young man,” the intake clerk next to him calls out to Reve.

  “Stop dragging your feet,” Paki says, giving me a push. “Get your assignment and move along.”

  With a quick glance at my brother, who’s being hustled toward the next post, I shuffle toward the imposing translucite desk.

  The robotic male doing my intake, his face utterly void of expression, scans a screen. “Name?”

  “Sakhi Borren,” I say.

  He squints at the numbers and symbols on his monitor, stares dead-eyed at me, and then extends his hand.

  I look to my brother for clues but he’s dealing with his own version of “desk guy.”

  “What do you want?” I stammer.

  “What do you want, sir,” he states in a monotone, flat voice.

  “What do you want, sir?” I intone, my neck and face hot and clammy.

  Paki, crowding nest to me, laughs. “He wants your right palm.”

  I frown at him, and then turn back to desk guy and continue glaring.

  He makes an impatient gesture with his fingers.

  “Hand,” he says. “Now.”

  I extend it, trying to force it not to shake.

  He places his dry, cool palm under my hand. Then, opens a drawer, picks up a small metallic device and jabs it into my life line, like he’s crucifying me.

  An electric jolt shoots through my arm. I jerk and snatch my hand back.

  “That’s everything we need to know about you, your Uni-com, and one hundred thousand S-CO. Spend it wisely. You’ll get the rest at the end.” He lifts his head. His eyes darken. The tip of his tongue glides over his lips and disappears, showing me the first sign he’s more than a robot. “If you make it that far.”

  Ignoring his snide remark, a giddy wave of excitement washes through me. I’ve never had that much money in my life. When we’re done here, we’ll get another hundred thousand.

  What I could do with that money.

  “Bend forward,” he says.

  “What?” I step back.

  “Your head, not your ass.” He gives me another lofty look and shakes his head. He says to Paki, “These Humans. They’re like farm animals, aren’t they?”

  He and Paki chuckle.

  “Now bend forward,” he says.

  I glance toward Reve, see him doing the same, and follow suit.

  Cold metal touches my head, followed by another shocking jolt of electricity, behind my left ear. I cry out.

  “What did you just do?” I reach to rub my scalp.

  Paki slaps my hand away. “Stop it. If you rub it, you’ll get infected. It’s an implant to keep the Metas from entering your mind.”

  “An implant…?” I begin, but Paki shushes me. I need an implant to keep the Metas out?

  “We’ve got around one hundred thousand new residents to process today. Stop with the questions.”

  “But…”

  “Stop,” he commands.

  My head swims from the implant. I think it’s working in reverse for me because all the energetic signatures inside these walls are starting to shout at me. Foreign thoughts and feelings swim through my consciousness, like I’m living someone else’s nightmare, not just my own. The noise in the room becomes a din. It’s like everything’s amplified.

  I’m not going to make it, someone thinks. Her terror feels like sharp shards of glass.

  All these women to fuck, someone else thinks. His lust pours off of him in red waves,

  I’m frightened.

  Help me.

  What am I doing here?

  I need to feed!

  I want to slam my palms against my ears to keep out all the thoughts and sensations, but I know the gesture would be useless. I mustn’t lose it. I’ve got to get through this day.

  Desk guy’s head looms large in my peripheral vision on my left. Paki is yelling something at me from my right but I’m too freaked out to hear him. I’m vibrating with fears, worries, concerns, thoughts--mine and everyone else’s.

  Paki shoves something in my hands and says, “Are you deaf? Get moving.”

  I want to scream. I want to grab Reve’s hand and run from the Complex, escaping like we always do. But here there’s no escape. It’s either fry like eggs in the desert or abide here and learn to get along.

  I frantically search for my brother, craning my head toward the desk where I last saw him.

  He’s still in front of it, his brow furrowed into sharp, angled lines.

  “Calm down,” he mouths. “Deep breaths.”

  He slowly lifts his hands toward his lungs and extends them outward.

  I nod and breathe. Another breath. And another.

  “Thank you,” I mouth in return, but he’s a
lready turned toward his own version of desk guy, taking the objects handed to him.

  I stare at my own hands, shocked to realize I’ve been given the same objects.

  “You’re to take your things to District Five, apartment one-hundred and ninety-two,” Paki states. “Then, report for work in Uni-Bosk Twenty-Three. That’s on level twenty-five. We’ll put your education in sustainable living systems to work. You know what a bosk is, right?” he says, speed-talking. “It’s a thicket. A forest. A small woods. I wouldn’t want you to think you’re working at a bar or something.” He smirks. “You’ll be working under the direct supervision of Thrasyllus Blüthe.” His eyes roll. “See that piece of shit over there?”

  I’ve barely tracked a word he said. Twenty-this and level that and something about sustainable systems, a subject I learned long ago in Wreston upper-education modules. But when he points to the male who’s to be my boss, standing behind a dispatch station a few yards away, I’m instantly jaw-dropped, eyes-blinking, dumb-struck—he doesn’t emanate a whit of energy. Not one whiff. How is this possible? What kind of Meta can do that? My scalp ripples with icy prickles.

  He’s tall, imposing, with dark, glossy wavy hair. His posture is relaxed…at ease. His lips are full and sensuous. Skin as warm as bronzed copper. He leans against his desk, his arms folded over his chest, chatting with a couple people. He laughs.

  They join him in laughter, clearly under his charm spell.

  I can’t stop staring.

  People push around me, tell me to move my ass…but I’m pinned by his presence.

  As if he can sense me, he lifts his head, training his eyes in my direction.

  Unless there’s a trick of light in here, he’s got one green eye and one as dark as midnight.

  But the truly weird thing about him is the fact I sense nothing from him. Not any emotion. No joy, no hatred, no anxiety, no self-loathing, no lust, no rage…nothing. Only a strange absence of sensation that freaks me out more than any of the stimuli around me.

  How can you be emanating nothing?

  As if uninterested in what he sees, he turns back to his audience.

  I’m left with the energy assault once more, battering me like waves in a wind storm.

  Paki’s gaze ricochets between me and Thrasyllus Blüthe. His demeanor seems to ice over with a chill that freezes my bone marrow.

  With more important needs than worrying about an asshole, I lift my hand and wave frantically at my brother, who’s rounding the desk, while I disappear in a throng of humanity.

  “Reve!” I shout. “Over here!”

  He squints and pushes his way through the throng, barreling like a bull.

  Humans and Metas grumble, shout and shove him back.

  When he reaches me, he envelopes my hand in his, and we push back through the crowd.

  “Where are you housed?” I ask him, my voice high and tight.

  “District Five, apartment six-hundred,” he says, his mouth grim. “You?”

  “Same district, apartment one-ninety-two, I think. I wasn’t listening. This chip they put behind my ear makes it impossible to ward off all the energy in this room.”

  “Figures. It makes me cool as a cucumber.” He winks. “No Meta mind-assault for me, baby.”

  “Why does it figure?” I shoot him a dark glance.

  “Calm down. I only meant with your abilities, it makes sense.”

  I still don’t understand but this is not the place for an inquisition. Too much going on. I lift my hand to touch the implant, but remember Paki’s warning and pause.

  Reve laughs at me. “Did they tell you not to touch it because it will get infected?”

  “Yeah, why?” I frown.

  “You won’t get infected. There’s a fifty percent chance you can dislodge it within two minutes of placement. And it’s been ten minutes so you’re safe. See?” He puts his hand behind his ear and rubs. He winces. “Except that it hurts where they stabbed it in.”

  “Why would they care if it pops out?” I say.

  “My guess is it serves a dual purpose, like prevents Metas from entering our minds but allows them some way to track us,” he says, tugging me along.

  “How do you know all this?” I ask. “You seem pretty knowledgeable for someone who arrived at the same time I did.”

  His shoulder lifts and falls. “You know. Forums and shit on the coms. I asked around. You gotta know your intel, sis. And how to work people.”

  “Work people?” My forehead grows pinched.

  “You know,” he says. He mimics popping a pill in his mouth.

  I shake my head. “Did you get your Seldova Coin?” I ask.

  “Hell, yes. That’s a shit-load of cash. Spend it wisely, sis. When we get out of here, I’m going to buy a fucking penthouse.”

  “When I get out I’m going to…” I shut my mouth. Actually, I’ve been living in survival mode for so long, I don’t know what I’ll do.

  He glances at me and puts on his best brotherly concern face. “Look. I know we can deal with the experiment. Then, we’ll get another crap-load and we’ll be free.”

  “Okay, but I don’t even know where I’m going at the moment.” My stomach is so full of fear and trepidation, it aches.

  “What? Oh, right. Hold up a sec.” Reve guides me away from the throng. “Let me see your Uni-pad.”

  “My what?” I blink.

  “Your map. That thing you’re clutching in your hand.”

  I look at the flat, white rectangular device I’m holding, unaware of when I got it. “This is a map?”

  “Yep. Give it to me.”

  I hand it to him.

  He slides a paper thin keyboard from it and fiddles with the screen. Then, the whole thing lights up. A holographic diagram rises from the screen.

  “See this?” He waves his hand at the transparent image.

  “Yes, I see it.”

  “Watch.” He pivots the device to the left. The diagram changes. He twists it to the right. The shimmering images change once again. “The display modifies to show you the buildings.” His fingers tap the keyboard. A red line appears. “That’s where you’re housed.”

  “Put your address in,” I urge.

  He keys it in. Another red line appears. “That’s my apartment.”

  “We’re kind of far away from one another.” I shift side to side, gnawing my lip.

  “At least it’s the same district. It’s a thirty-five minute walk, tops. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure they have a transport system on this shit hole. Speaking of shit…” He turns the white rectangle upside down. Another set of intersecting lines appear. “That’s where I work. In the bowels of hell.”

  I wince. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m in the ‘sanitation department.’” He makes air quotes.

  I frown. “What will you do?”

  “Cleanse and sanitize people’s shit, what do you think?” His jaw solidifies, like stone. “Where have you been assigned?”

  I hesitate before answering.

  “It’s probably somewhere nice, huh?” His normally warm gaze turns flinty and cold.

  “I don’t know. It’s Uni-Bosk twenty something or other.”

  His lips become a crisp gash.

  “Uh-huh,” he manages to say.

  I swallow. “Look, I’m sorry I got caught. I know we’re here because of me.”

  “You got that right. I had a plan for us. You were supposed to let me take care of us. That was my job.” His neck and face grow red.

  Before we can tread upon our well-worn argument and sling blame back and forth, my head starts to hum. The sound grows to the point of exploding.

  “Is there a problem here?” Paki says, approaching from the rear.

  I already despise his voice.

  “No problem,” Reve says, his tone impassive. “I was showing her how to use her map.”

  “She’d better learn to use things on her own,” Paki says.

  “I’m right here,” I
say, through clenched teeth. “Don’t talk about me as if I can’t hear you.”

  This guy…his energy is…it’s awful, is what it is.

  “This isn’t a social club. You’re to get to your apartment, and report for duty at your respective jobs at thirteen hundred hours.” Paki directs a cold, sharp gaze at Reve.

  “We’ve got time,” Reve counters, not backing down.

  “Think so?” Paki says with a sneer. “There’s plenty to do between now and then. Now get moving. The lift for your district is over there.” He points to the other side of the throng, and then turns to me. “I’ll show you to yours.”

  “But…” I say, silently pleading with my brother to rescue me.

  Reve gives swift shake of his head. “I’ll see you at lunch. I’ll find you.” He strides away, leaving me with this monster.

  “Allow me,” Paki says, proffering his elbow.

  I back away. “I only need you to show me the way to the elevator. That’s it.”

  Paki’s mouth puckers into a sphincter. “It’s called a Fastrans. You’d better learn to be nice to me. Your fate is in my hands. Now put your hand on my elbow and let me show you where your lift is.”

  This isn’t a request. It’s a command.

  “Please,” he adds, in a none too comforting tone.

  I place a trembling hand on his jacket, cringing from the nearness of him.

  With grim determination and a forced smile, Paki marches me toward an elevator.

  When the doors open, I fold myself in along with a sea of others, leaving Paki at the entrance. I can only hope what faces me upstairs is less intimidating then what I’m leaving on the ground floor.

  Chapter 3

  The Fastrans doors open, its passengers spilling free like trapped sheep and bolting from the barn. Everyone scurries into their rooms.

  I’m grasped from behind by a huge, unspeaking red-uniformed male, who ushers me along a hallway. I stumble to keep up with him. I’m going to have to ask Reve why we get the constant escorts and no-one else. Surely there are criminals far worse than us. We’re petty thieves, not mass murderers. All we did was steal food to stay alive. And Reve never got caught—I did.

  “Here,” the guard says, pulling me to a stop before a smooth silver panel. His energy is solid, like a brick wall. At least it’s not menacing like Paki’s.