Aura aura jax 1, p.20
Aura (Aura Jax #1), page 20
He reaches past me and opens the passenger door.
“Out of the van,” he orders. “You're getting in the back. Try to run, and I'll pop you… You can explain who you are when we get to The Telepathe.”
There's a roaring in my ears and time slows as I climb out onto the road.
This is real life.
This is not a simulation.
Impersonating a CSO is punishable by death.
And if I don't do something now, they're going to kill me.
At the back of the van, the Cog puts out a gloved hand and opens the door. His movement seems to take forever.
I can feel the electricity spark and unfurl inside me as the now-familiar heat of my Gift begins to consume my body. Every second feels like a minute; the synapses in my brain are firing faster and faster.
I'm ready.
Slowly the door opens, and the Cog turns back toward me. When he does, everything else disappears. I can see right through him.
I look into his yellow eyes, and I see the shock register on his face. It's the same look the Cog gave me at the border that night.
I'm inside his head, and he can feel it.
“What are you doing?” He stumbles backward, trying to get away, but the open door of the van is blocking his exit.
There's nowhere for him to go.
Somnum.
Sleep.
Almost instantly, his legs buckle beneath him in response to my command, and he collapses against the van with a soft thud.
I gasp for air as the world comes screaming back at me. The heat leaves my body, and I'm freezing cold. I bend down, holding onto my legs, trying to catch my breath.
I'm going to be sick.
I stagger to the side of the road and heave my guts up into a drain. I hear movement behind me, and I turn to see Dash clambering out of the van.
“What on God's earth are you?” he breathes.
“I'm the person who just saved your life,” I wheeze, “but if you tell anybody about this, I will come for you, and I will kill you. Do you understand?”
I look up at him and he nods at me, horror etched across his face. “Is he… dead?”
“He'll be out for an hour,” I tell him. “He won't remember anything that happened.”
“This is crazy,” Dash mutters, hitting himself on the side of the head as if he's going to wake up from a dream he's having.
“You need to snap out of it, Dash,” I say with as much menace as I can muster. “Here's what's going to happen: First you're going to help me get our friend here back into the van –”
“Okay,” he nods vigorously.
“And then you're going to get out of here and forget that any of this ever happened.”
“Right,” he nods. “Right, yes. I can do that.”
“Good man.”
Once Dash has disappeared out of sight, muttering that he needs to speak to Dr. Aldrich about cleaning up the mess at the warehouse, I use the Cog's CASS monitor to call myself a cab.
Minutes later, I'm on my way to the Golden Belt.
Chapter 43
The inside of the cab is warm, the seats plush. I have to fight to keep myself from dozing off. My head is still throbbing from my encounter with the Cog. It's difficult to keep my eyes open. I could really do with some dry toast to settle my stomach.
Once we get to the moonlit Artificial Gardens, I tell the cab to pull over so I can be sick again.
As I vomit, I look out over the too-green grass and the shiny, colorful flowers, and it hits me just how insane my life has become. I can't believe I'm coming back to the place I went through hell to escape armed with a plan that could eventually bring down Robert Wolfe himself.
The success or failure of that plan is all down to me now.
Once I stop feeling queasy, I get back into the cab and the journey resumes, weaving through the cookie-cutter streets of The Neighborhood. I notice a thin red light running along the edge of the sidewalk, indicating that it is being heated. There must be a frost due.
Finally, I see the bright lights of the Golden Belt ahead.
Here it is. The Inner Sanctum.
The cab pauses for scanning at the wrought iron gates guarding the entrance.
I have a brief moment of internal panic that I'll be caught, but in moments, I see Alex Harper's name, image, and date of birth projected onto the digital panels on the gates, which immediately open to let the cab through.
“You have reached your destination,” says the AI driver over the intercom.
The fare is free. The cab's facial recognition software has already confirmed my identity and Elite status, so the usual charges don't apply.
I've never taken a cab in my life, but I heard once about a girl who took one to a Clinic Inc. when her mother was unwell. Because she was a Worker, she had to sell two days' worth of food rations to cover the fare.
The vehicle door swings open, and I step into the cool night air.
The Inner Sanctum is a sprawling estate lit with tiny golden lights that hover above the rooftops like fireflies, bathing everything in a warm amber glow. The pavement here is clean, the houses gigantic. Each home has a long driveway in front with neat strips of artificial lawn on either side.
Drones fly overhead delivering groceries and other goods; TidyUpBots whirr past my feet looking for stray bits of litter to pick up.
There's not a Cog in sight.
When I reach Edward's house, I stare into the retina scanner at the front door, waiting a moment for the door to open.
When it does, I step across the threshold, and the lights come on inside.
My eyes widen.
The house is unlike anything I've ever seen. The interior is made to look like a glasshouse, with “transparent” walls looking out onto a selection of breathtaking digital landscapes.
I move down the hall, feeling as if I'm walking through an ocean. Beams of sunlight shine through crystal blue water on the walls around me. Brightly-colored fish swim in the images alongside me as I walk.
As the hallway opens out into the living room, the ocean dissolves into a snowscape that matches the white furniture in the room. These glass walls look out onto snow-topped mountains. I watch a group of silver bears playing in the distance.
This is wild.
Everything is covered in a thick layer of dust, and the place needs a good airing, but I've never seen such luxury.
In the kitchen, I hunt through the cupboards for food. They're mostly empty, except for a vacuum-packed box of Dinkies – sugar cookies from heaven – and some nearly out-of-date packets of soup.
I pull down the box of Dinkies and tear into it. Once I've eaten half the packet, I find a glass and fill it with tap water.
Satiated, I lean back against the marble counter and take in the rest of the kitchen. There's a big stove, and an island in the middle decorated with an empty crystal vase. Near the window stands a dining table with enough chairs for eight people.
I kick off my boots before exploring the rest of the house.
I should let Edward know that I've arrived.
I find the door to the basement at the end of the hallway. There's another retina scanner on the left-hand side which grants me entry. As I close the door behind me, little blue lights appear on each step as I go down.
I push open a door at the bottom of the stairs and see that the room is piled high with boxes, stacks of papers, and old furniture. The air here is stale.
I search the walls for signs of another door, but there are none. The CamoFilm Edward installed to hide his secret room must still be intact.
I spot the billiard table he described in the corner, almost completely hidden beneath the junk. I create a path through the obstacle course, knocking over a stack of medical journals in the process. I crawl underneath the table on my hands and knees.
I have to feel along the wall to find the socket Edward mentioned. Fumbling in the dark, I unclip the plastic casing around the socket to find a keypad underneath. Running my fingers along the buttons so that I can work out where the numbers are, I type in the code.
There's a crunch and a groan as part of the wall behind the table begins to move. Some of the boxes tip inside the hidden room as the wall slides back.
I crawl out from under the billiard table and step into the room.
I'm relieved to see that it hasn't been disturbed. The CamoFilm did its job. The authorities didn't find this place.
The dimly-lit room is a more expensive version of the lab in the bunker, full of polished metal and black leather. There's a surveillance screen on the wall showing views from the outside of the house. As Edward promised, I find a laptop and a couple of mobile phones on the desk.
I power up the laptop and make a video call to Edward.
Seconds later, his face appears on the screen.
“Aura, you made it!” his voice crackles through the computer speakers. “How was your journey?”
“My real face is all over the ad boards,” I tell him before filling him in on Dash and the Cog.
“The main thing is that you're safe,” he says. “And Dash is hardly reliable. If he does tell anybody about you, they'll think it's the Ice talking.”
We chat a little longer, and then I say goodnight and shut down the computer.
My body is drained, but I feel wired. A million things are racing around my head: the layout of The Telepathe, my cover story, the plan with so many holes it might as well be a sieve.
I'm not ready for sleep yet, so I go back upstairs and grab the rest of the Dinkies from the kitchen.
I take the box into the living room and perch on the edge of a sofa, wondering what to do with myself. I spot a remote on the coffee table and I decide to turn on the TV for a bit of background noise.
Maybe it will help my mind settle.
The news channel is showing a press conference. The guests are taking their seats. I'm about to switch channels when I see her.
My eyes widen and a strangled sound escapes my throat.
I stand up and move closer to the screen, not quite believing my eyes. My mum is seated next to President Wolfe at the head of the long table in front of the flashing cameras.
I search her face for any signs of hurt or pain, but there aren't any. She's fully made up, her blonde hair swept up in a neat chignon. She's wearing a pale blue dress that I've never seen before.
My chest tightens. Edward was right. Robert has her.
The camera moves away from Mum and zooms in on a brunette in a ponytail and a black pantsuit.
She clears her throat and addresses the reporters. “My name is Agent Claire Daniel. I am the head of surveillance here at The Telepathe.
“We're here today because we need your assistance to locate 16-year-old Aurora Jax, the missing daughter of Rosalie Cohen, who is a dear friend of President Robert Wolfe.”
He made her change her name back.
“ROSALIE COHEN'S ESTRANGED HUSBAND GRAHAM JAX RESPONSIBLE FOR TERROR ATTACK IN OLD CITY,” runs the banner text along the bottom of the screen.
Estranged husband? I want to throw up.
The camera pulls out again and I see Robert rest his hand on top of Mum's. She doesn't react; she just keeps looking straight ahead.
The banner text changes: “SOURCES REVEAL COHEN AND THE PRESIDENT WERE CHILDHOOD SWEETHEARTS…”
“Aurora went missing during the Assembly almost three weeks ago,” Agent Daniel is saying, “and though we are following up on several leads, we still have no firm information as to her whereabouts.”
The banner text changes again: “PRESIDENT FEARS THAT DAUGHTER'S DISAPPEARANCE COULD BE PART OF A WIDER TERRORIST PLOT.”
This is crazy.
“Anyone having any information regarding Aurora should contact The Telepathe immediately.”
Agent Daniel opens the floor for questions and I go back down to the basement to call Edward again. This time there's no answer, but I'm way too restless for sleep.
I check through the news feeds on the secure line instead.
The official report from the press is that Robert's relationship with Mum ended when his political career took off. They remained friends but drifted apart when Mum met Dad. Dad turned out to be a ‘violent extremist,’ and Mum walked out on him when I was young.
The report notes that Mum and Robert have ‘grown close again’ over the past year, making her – and me –potential targets for the president's enemies.
In the chat rooms, people are posting crazy theories about my whereabouts and fantasizing about how they'd spend the reward money if they were right.
The lies, speculation, and misinformation make my blood boil. If they only knew that I was here, or that my body was safe underground on the other side of the border…
Chapter 44
There's an irritating ringing noise in my head, dragging me out of my slumber. Annoyed, I open my eyes and realize that it's coming from the laptop that must have become my pillow on the desk in Edward's hidden lab last night.
Someone is calling in.
I rub the sleep from my eyes and run a hand through my hair as I accept the call. Neeve appears on the screen.
“Everything okay?” she asks.
“I just woke up,” I say, glancing at the time. It's almost 7:00 a.m.
She yawns. “Me too. My father had another blackout in the early hours.”
“Oh no –”
“He's fine now, but he's still in bed.” She clears her throat, looking at me expectantly. “We had five missed calls from you last night.”
My memory wakes up. The press conference.
The ‘Robert and Rosalie’ show.
“Mum was on TV last night,” I tell her. “With Robert Wolfe and the head of surveillance from The Telepathe. They were holding a press conference about me – and Dad.”
“I heard about the ad boards,” she says.
I shake my head. “I don't care about the ad boards, or even the lies they're spinning about everything. It was seeing my mum with him.”
Neeve chews her bottom lip.
“She didn't say a word. She was holding hands with him the whole time.”
“I doubt she has a choice in the matter, Aura.”
I know that. It still makes me sick.
She's a prisoner. How must she feel?
“Where will she be?” I ask. “Where does he live?”
Not that it matters. She could be a million miles away, and I can't help her yet.
Neeve pushes her face closer to the webcam. “Don't torment yourself, Aura,” she says, her voice soft. “Remember, you need to keep your mind on the end game. You can't save her – or your dad – unless our plan works.”
I say goodbye to Neeve and try to psych myself up for my day.
I stuff the now-slept-in Cog's uniform into the back of Edward's closet and take a long hot shower to wash the lingering smell from my body.
Once I'm cleaned up, I get dressed in a pair of black trousers and a gray shirt. I find a charcoal tie in the chest of drawers.
“Hi, I'm Alex Harper,” I say to my reflection.
I look ridiculous – like I'm 16 going on 50. Edward should have stashed some clothes somewhere to fit his young, hip alter-ego.
Adding to the effect, I pull on one of Edward's overcoats that I find hanging in the hallway. The sleeves are a little too short, but it'll have to do.
For breakfast, I heat a packet of soup from the kitchen.
I'm about to sit down to eat when I hear shouting outside, behind the house. I tense, thinking that someone has come for me, and make my way to the upstairs bedroom. At the window overlooking the backyard, I move the curtain back an inch.
There's a veranda outside of this window, set with a small table and two chairs. In the yard below, I see a wide patio area with a low wall and a gate guarding a set of steps leading down to a large, overgrown garden. Ornamental trees dot the lawn; a large fountain sits in the middle.
The shouting is coming from a blonde girl about my age who is chasing a MicroPet. The tiny gold bear is the size of a football, and it's jumping from tree to tree, keeping well out of her reach.
MicroPets are real creatures genetically engineered into tiny, colorful proportions: diamond-covered monkeys, metallic bears, fluorescent ponies, and – regular entries on Selena's wishlist – pink glitter elephants.
They cost a small fortune.
As I watch, the bear jumps from the tallest tree, over the gate, and onto the patio below me.
The girl looks up, and I drop the curtain as if I've been burned.
‘Make sure you're not seen,’ I remember Edward's warning to me before I left the bunker.
I guess he didn't account for runaway MicroPets breaching garden walls.
Seconds later, the doorbell rings and the girl’s face flashes up on the wall screen, replacing the desert scene in the bedroom.
KAYA ANDREWS IS WAITING. Hidden speakers announce her arrival to the whole house.
I briefly think about ignoring her, but she knows I'm here – and her stupid bear is trapped in my garden. The last thing I want to do is draw more attention to myself by not answering.
I go downstairs and open the door. She looks at me, expectantly.
“Hi, this is going to sound really odd, but my bear is in your garden,” she says.
“I wondered what all of the shouting was about.”
“I know, I'm sorry. He never listens to me. Can you help me get him?”
“Sure.” I step outside and pull the door closed behind me. “Show me where he is.”
She beams. “I let him out in my garden, and he just ran.”
“Don't worry about it,” I say.
“I'm Kaya by the way. Kaya Andrews.”
“Alex Harper.”
I take her around the side of the house.
“I haven't seen you around here before,” she says as I open the gate.
“No, I'm new,” I tell her, walking into the back garden.
She laughs, following me through. “There he is, the little pest,” she says, spotting the bear. “Mika, come here now!”
‘Mika’ is on the patio table looking at us, his head cocked to one side. I open up the gate and move to grab him, but he bounds away to another tall tree and leaps onto the balcony veranda above.
