Night Whispers: The Complex Read online

  The acute silence in the room closes around me like a noose.

  “Welcome, everyone,” he says, in a rich, deep baritone, breaking the spell.

  I breathe a sigh of relief and look up. His attention is on the assembly, not me.

  But then his eyes dart in my direction again, his gaze hovering on me. His chest expands and falls, as if he’s taking a long, slow breath.

  A pleasant, warm breeze-like sensation falls along my skin. For a second, I forget where I am. But then, Thrasyllus Blüthe takes command.

  “First, let’s get formalities out of the way. Everywhere but here, you’ll be known as your citizen number. But that’s too many numbers for me to remember.” He flashes an endearing grin at everyone.

  A chuckle catches fire among the group, spreading like dancing flames.

  “So, here you’ll be referred to as your names. And I’m to be called Thras. Understood?” He looks at us, arched eyebrows framing his eager eyes.

  We all nod. Some smile in assent, no doubt hoping that being on a first name basis with this handsome man will lead to other things.

  He spreads his hands. “As you can see, your surroundings don’t exactly look woodsy or like a garden, do they?”

  Both Humans and Metas titter. Some surreptitiously move closer to him. In a few short seconds, he’s managed to unite us in one common cause—being on his list of favorites. Only, I want to be anywhere but on that list.

  He continues speaking about the lushness of the bosk, the importance of our work here but I’m tracking none of it. All I sense is the chaotic energy of the room, contrasted with his lack of emotion. He’s like some sort of ultra-charming black hole. Sure, he’s smiling, attempting to put us all at ease, but the emotional atmosphere in the room is anything but easy. People’s eyes slide left and right, looking at their neighbor with narrowed eyes and rigid postures. Even Naazira stands stiffly, her pinkish brown lips drawn tight, like a slash in the soil.

  And then, a sudden darker than dark energy stabs my awareness. It’s so intense, it’s like I’m being strangled with a chain.

  No one pays me any mind except for Thrasyllus. He regards me briefly, then turns his head toward the door.

  The silver breach opens, revealing Paki.

  The temperature in the room seems to drop a few degrees. Or, maybe it’s just me.

  “Why are they still here, Blüthe? They should be outside, attending to their duties.” Paki looks like he wants to pick his teeth with Thrasyllus Blüthe’s bones.

  “We were merely getting acquainted, Mr. Tchepikov. We need to get to know one another before we engage in our important duties.” Thras regards Paki coolly.

  “That’s Sergeant Tchepikov, Blüthe.” Paki’s nearly vibrating. Waves of rage roll from his skin.

  A scythe-like smile curves on Thras’ face. “Not to me. You’re not my superior. Do you need reminding of my status as acting Commander of my squadron in the war?”

  I stifle a giggle, expecting to see steam pour from Paki’s ears.

  Paki’s head whips in my direction like a striking viper.

  “Miss Borren,” he says. “Is there a problem? Something we all need to be made aware of?”

  My cheeks become burning embers.

  “You’d do well to let me manage my team, Mr. Tchepikov,” Thras says. “Now how can I help you? Is there a reason for interrupting? We have a busy day ahead.”

  “I need to see her.” Paki stabs a finger at me.

  My stomach contracts to the size of a marble.

  “Can it wait?” Thras asks.

  “No. She needs to be fitted with a Trac-Klip.” Paki’s lips form the same sphincter shape as before.

  The room erupts in whispers.

  I’m mortified. Trac-Klips are used to monitor the activities of murderers, serial killers, and the like. I’m none of those.

  A side-eyed glance shows Naazira staring at me, her brow as furrowed as tree-bark.

  Others stare at me with through lowered eyelids.

  “I reviewed her history,” Thras says. “I see no need for a Trac-Klip. I’ll personally vouch for her whereabouts. I’ll doubt she’ll see much time outside Uni-Bosk Twenty-Three.”

  His eyelids mere slits, Paki slowly smooths one side of his mustache, and then the other, as if the day hours belong to him and him alone. “It was a direct order from…”

  “I have command over my team,” Thras says sharply. “If I see the need to fit anyone with a tracking device, especially those more deserving than Miss Borren, I’ll see to it myself they’re properly fitted.”

  I watch him, blinking. I swear he increases in girth and height.

  “But,” Paki splutters, his posture curving into a C.

  “Will there be anything else?” Thras commands.

  Paki recovers his posture, like he’s replaced the stick in his ass. His gaze ping-pongs between Thras and me. He turns and stalks from the room, his boots striking the floor like bayonets. The door shuts behind me.

  The room explodes with conversation. Both Metas and Humans flash suspicious gazes in my direction.

  “Quiet,” Thras orders. His command sucks the sound from the space. “This was a mistake. Mr. Tchepikov got his details wrong. Miss Borren is not, and will not, be getting a Trac-Klip. She doesn’t deserve it. I’ve read all your records. I can name a few who would be well-served with a monitor.” His penetrating gaze sweeps the room like a segif seeking a target.

  One person tugs his earlobe. Another rolls his shoulders. Yet another coughs.

  “You will treat Miss Borren with the respect due her. Do we have agreement?” Thras’ arms resume their crisp fold across his chest.

  Great, I think, wrapping my arms around my tummy. I don’t want to be regarded as getting preferential treatment.

  A few mumbles and mutters fall from the lips of the meek.

  “I said, Do. We. Have. Agreement?” His voice is like a lion roar.

  A few people nod or mutter their acknowledgment.

  “Good,” he says, grinning, once more putting on the charm.

  I’m left standing with pulverized insides. Not only do my fellow “inmates” regard me with jealousy over Thras’ treatment of me, they now hold contempt for my imaginary crimes, I’m sure. I’m terrified of Thrasyllus Blüthe. I’m also extremely unsettled by the way he makes me feel. If I’m truthful, I’d really like to know what it feels like to be touched by him.

  Chapter 5

  At the end of the day-cycle, after digging holes, setting plants, carrying flats of seedlings and other tasks, I drag myself into the Fastrans, aching like someone who’s been beaten with clubs throughout the day. I need a long bath. The only thing I’ll get in my Uni-apartment is a timed drizzle of water.

  I push inside the lift, finding welcome respite in the corner, surrounded by other weary people.

  Someone calls, “Hey, hold the lift!”

  I look up to see Reve, and smile wanly. I’m too tired to stretch my face any further.

  My brother reeks.

  When he enters the lift, his limp more pronounced than ever, we all shrink away from him.

  Someone gags.

  Even I can barely stomach the smell.

  He grins. “Hey now, don’t be repulsed. This is the fruits of my labors in processing all your shit and piss. You should be thanking me.”

  “Thank you,” someone mutters through the hand over his mouth.

  “Ride the lift by yourself,” a woman says.

  “You know and I know this is a communal experience,” Reve says. “Get used to it. We can all get along if we try.”

  Someone snickers.

  “Right, like best friends throughout the universe,” another adds.

  “Exactly,” Reve says. “B.F.T.U.s,” he adds. He shoulders his way to stand next to me. “How was your day?”

  I wish he had kept his distance.

  “Exhausting. I set up an entire irrigation system for some plants we’re cultivating. Naazira and I
did it.” I puff out my chest.

  “Did you know that fine water pumped into Uni-Bosk Twenty-Three,” Reve says, “is actually cleaned and filtered in Sub-level’s very own Uni-Shit-Station Negative-One?”

  I swallow, and give him a side-eye glance.

  A man chuckles.

  I hug my belly.

  “Did you know that, sis?” Reve says. His lips stretch into a grimace.

  “I do now,” I say. “Good to know. Thanks for all your hard work.”

  “No problem,” he says. “It’s my pleasure to serve all the fine beings on the Complex.”

  “Reve,” I whisper under my breath. “Stop it.”

  “What?” he says in mock innocence. “I thought you might find that interesting. The water is piped from these ghastly hydrothermal vents called Black Smokers. Remember that stench we smelled when we were outside the Complex?”

  “I do,” a woman says. “It was awful.”

  Both Reve and I turn to look at her.

  An exotic beauty, with ruby red eyes and gold and orange tresses, her skin is covered with huge jungle-cat like markings.

  A shifter freak?

  I eye her surreptitiously, flattening against the elevator wall.

  “Right,” Reve says. “It was and it is.” He pauses when the Fastrans doors open.

  A few get off, even more push in. The new passengers’ shuffle away from Reve.

  Reve grins at the female. “The Black Smokers spew the polluted water this planet is known for. This place is one of the garbage dumps of the galaxy, lest you wonder why they chose it for this experiment. That’s what they think of us.”

  “Fascinating,” she says, grinning back. “You’re a smart one.”

  “Not really,” he says. “I pay attention.” He taps his temple. He’s got his “girl game face” on.

  I roll my eyes.

  The door opens again, and it’s my level. I push and shove to get to the door, grabbing Reve’s hand along the way.

  “You’re coming with me,” I hiss.

  “But I was having a conversation,” he protests. “I thought I might get some Meta tail.”

  “Conversation’s over,” I say, as the doors engulf those remaining inside. I whirl to face him. “Thanks for destroying my good mood. I had a horrid day, too, in case you wondered. The only thing that brightened my mood was finishing my irrigation project.”

  “I’m sorry,” Reve says, putting his hands in front of him. “It’s hell working with people’s shit. I think half the population is diseased, based on the smell.”

  “Ew, that’s disgusting.” I pinch my nose as if I might smell it.

  “And it’s my job for two years. This is only day one.”

  “I know, I know. My fault. I already feel guilty enough.” My teeth sneak a nibble of my lip.

  “Good. You should.” Reve looks away from me, his arms stiffly angled across his chest.

  I wince.

  He sighs.

  “Sorry, that was uncalled for. I’ve had a ‘shitty day.’ Get it?” he says, turning to face me.

  “I get it,” I say. My heart hangs around my ankles.

  We stride along the hall toward my room. I place my palm on the scanner and the room is revealed.

  Both Reve and I enter, and the door closes. I beeline straight for my bed.

  I fall back on it and sigh. “What a day.”

  Reve makes his way over to the sofa.

  “Nuh-uh,” I snap. “Shower first.”

  He tenses. “Come on, sis, don’t you want to think of me when I’m gone?”

  He pivots to look at me.

  “Not that way. I manage to think of you all the time without the smelly reminder.”

  He purses his lips, and I instantly regret my words.

  “My leg is killing me.” He hobbles over to my eating station table and leans against it, his fingers curling over the edge.

  “I noticed. Go take a shower. Then you can sit down. Or, peel your clothes off. I can get you a towel to wrap up in and then you can take a load off.”

  He glares sharply at me. “Hell. No.”

  The words emerge with such force, I’m glad I’m laying down.

  “Come on, it’s okay. I’ve can take viewing your scar,” I say, soothing him. “I’m a big girl.”

  “No. Let’s change the topic.”

  “Or, I can get a towel and lay it on the sofa. I should have offered. I didn’t think you were in such pain.”

  He takes a long, deep breath. “I’m fine. Drop it.”

  “Reve,” I say gently. “Let me take care of you.”

  “No,” he says through gritted teeth. His eyes lift to meet mine. “But, thanks. I know, I know…I’m ‘lucky to have survived,’” he says, making quote marks in the air. “I had to listen to the party line every fucking day when I was in the Re-Gen space pod. So now, lucky me is living on this hell hole, surrounded by the enemy. No doubt the fucker who wielded the Adjustable Flux Shooter at me is now one of my co-workers. Did you know they called their weapons Butchers of Frozen Hell?”

  I quickly shake my head and wait, expectantly. I dare not breathe.

  Is he actually going to talk about what he went through in the war?

  “You don’t like to talk about it, so, no, you never told me,” I say quietly.

  “Yep,” he says, his jaw tight. “Directed-energy weapons, they emanated deadly, ice cold microwave and particle beams that virtually disintegrate flesh and bone. A fucking Meta aimed one at me and fired. Boom! The only reason I even survived is because of my shield. It absorbed some of the impact.”

  I gasp. “Oh, no! Reve, that’s awful. Why are you telling me this now?”

  “Because you need to know who we’re dealing with here. This Complex experiment is not going to work. All any of us wants is to get our payment and get out of here. Sure, we’ll pretend to get along, but we’ll always be enemies with Metas, sis. Always.” His handsome face contorts into an ugly sneer.

  “Can’t you ask for a medical transfer or something?”

  He studies me, smirking. “Oh, you are naive, sis. It’s like you learned nothing from living on the streets. No one can be trusted, and I mean no one. This isn’t the kind of place where I can say, ‘Oh, hey, my leg is sore. Can you put me at a desk job?’ We’re assigned to these fucking jobs for a reason. It’s their way of controlling us…keeping an eye out for us. All the while we’re working side by side with enemy forces.” He inhales sharply. “I’ve got to sit down, stink or no stink. And before you can think to ask, yeah, they have a cleaning station in the bowels of hell. I chose to revel in my scented attire. I also chose to share it.” He aims a pointed glare at me, and then grabs one of the eating station chairs and eases his body down. He lets out a long breath and closes his eyes. “There. So much better. Tell me something about your day.”

  “Uh, okay. Listen to this—that Paki asshole interrupted the meeting this morning and said I needed to be fitted for a Trac-Klip,” I say.

  Reve’s eyelids fly open. “No kidding?”

  “No kidding. Now everyone’s afraid of me. They think I’m a murderer.” I bunch the bedspread into a tight knot.

  His face darkens into lines and shadows. “Maybe you can use that to your advantage.”

  “What kind of advantage is it to have both Humans and Metas terrified of me?” I shudder. “And then I’m working for this being who has no energetic signature…none at all. Don’t you think that’s weird?”

  “That is a little odd. I’ll ask around and see what I can find out. What’s his name?” Reve asks.

  “Thrasyllus Blüthe. Didn’t you see him when we checked in this morning? Paki made sure to point him out to me.”

  “I was more concerned with you than anyone else. I wanted to make sure you were safe.” He regards me with soft eyes.

  “Thank you. It means a lot to me that you look out for me.” I let out a long, slow breath. “Thrasyllus Blüth scares me.” I prop my head on my pillow. “And
he kept staring at me, taking huge breaths. So the half who aren’t terrified of me are jealous of me, like I’m getting some kind of preferential treatment.”

  “Are you getting preferential treatment?” Reve asks. “You’re extremely pretty, sis.”

  I tsk. “I don’t know, maybe. He seems to be a hands-on kind of guy, interacting with all of us. And thank you, but I’m no big deal.” I flick my fingers along the bed fabric, smoothing out the knot I made.

  “How hands-on?” Reve winks.

  “Not like that,” I retort. “He kept coming over to where Naazira and I were working, offering suggestions, complimenting us.”

  “Oh, he kept coming over to you, did he?” Reve’s mouth quirks into a devilish smile. “Oh, Thrasyllus,” he says, in a high voice. “I need help with this irrigation system. Can you wiggle your finger into this tiny hole?”

  “Stop it. It’s his job,” I say, while my cheeks heat up. “Maybe he’s attracted to Naazira. Maybe she’ll be a friend.”

  “Don’t even go there,” Reve says, scoffing. “No one is your friend here.” He gives me a pointed glare.

  “You’re too suspicious. She’s a beautiful elf,” I say.

  “An elf?” He brightens, stroking the stubble on his chin. “I hear they’re creative in bed. I never said I wouldn’t fuck a Meta. May as well screw one.”

  “Stop it. They’re off-limits, Reve. You read the contract, same as me.”

  He scoffs. “You honestly don’t think a hundred-thousand horny individuals are going to let rules guide their actions, do you?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. Let’s get back to Thrasyllus Blüth.” I glare at him. “And not in the way you’re implying. I hear he’s a war hero. He’s extremely charismatic. And he’s all about peaceful relations. Maybe he’s up for a gold star or something.”

  I stare up at the white ceiling.

  “This could also be used to your advantage, sis.” Reve looks like his mind is whirring, engines prepping for take-off.

  “I don’t think so. I believe I’m already some pawn in a power play I know nothing about. Paki and Thras had words over me while everyone else watched.”

  I retrieve the silver keepsake from under my pillow, fingering the locket.