Reckoning (11 page)

I hear footsteps echoing away from me and find I have fallen behind Ignacia and our remaining numbers, lost in my own thoughts. As I turn, I bump into someone's solid chest and step backwards, muttering an apology and hoping I'm not in trouble for being on my own in this area. The person apologises too and, as I look into his face, it is as if I have gone back in time. Staring down at me, almost as confused as I am, is Hart – Martindale's last Offering.

12

I struggle to know what to say. When he left our village, Hart had a distinctive smile with large, well-built arms that came from years of helping out with various things around the place. He would unload supplies from the trains and deliver them. Now his face is thin, the bones jutting into his cheeks, and there is a hollowness around his eyes. His brown hair has grown out slightly, but it is still short and slightly patchy, with a tuft sticking out at the back. He squints, trying to place where he knows me from before I whisper ‘Silver Blackthorn'. At first his eyes widen in recognition but then, before I can speak any further, he gives a slight shake of his head, brushing past me and entering one of the offices without a word.

I am in shock at seeing such a familiar face but have no choice other than to follow the sound of the footsteps rapidly retreating into the distance. I have barely caught up when the few of us who are left are whisked through to the electronics laboratories where Ignacia tells me I will be working. She introduces me to ‘Head Kingsman Porter' and then takes everyone else out of the room, leaving me as the only Offering to work here.

The lab has rows of screens and thinkpad-like objects placed on benches and tables, as well as a desk in the back corner of the room which is piled high with various salvaged electrical pieces. I can see an old-fashioned phone similar to those that litter the gully outside Martindale, plus various broken thinkpads, thinkwatches and screens. My vision feels hazy as all I can really think of is Hart's skeletal appearance and the way he dashed away quickly to stop us being seen together.

Porter is supposed to be looking after me, or bossing me around depending on which way you look at it, but he is hunched over a desk in the corner and the brief look he gives me shows irritation more than anything else. He is barely taller than I am but somewhere around his forties, with brown hair scraped across his head. Most people that age fought in the war, so I am not surprised to see a scar that loops around his mouth. He is wearing the same uniform that a Kingsman would, but has no weapons holster.

As I hover uncomfortably in the middle of the room, Porter looks over his glasses at me a second time, seemingly unhappy that I am still there, and then gives a loud tut. No one else is around, so I can only assume it is for my benefit.

‘What did you say your name was?' he asks, even though I haven't spoken since arriving.

‘Silver Blackthorn,' I say, trying to be polite.

He doesn't move from the desk, tutting again and continuing to eye me across the room.

‘Are you any good with this stuff?' He points to the pile of electrical items in the corner. His tone doesn't sound too interested so I mutter something vague. I try not to speak too much about what I can intuitively do with technology at the best of times, let alone to someone I don't know.

I wonder how much the Reckoning knew when it decided to make me a Member.

Porter nods acceptingly, although I'm not sure he has really listened to my answer.

‘I suppose I'd better introduce you,' he says, beckoning me over and opening a door on the far wall.

The second room is smaller but there are three people sitting on high stools facing away from me. None of them turns until Porter tells them to. The only girl is holding a soldering iron, while the other two each have half-assembled thinkpads in their hands. Porter introduces us but the only name which sticks is ‘Lumin', who has dark skin and is even more uninterested in me than Porter is. Perhaps because of this, Porter tells him to talk me through what we're doing and then leaves without looking at me.

Again I wait, feeling self-conscious in the middle of the room. On each side of me, there are metal benches with a strange mix of parts dumped on top. There are electronics I have never seen before mixed in with scrap metal and disassembled broken objects that look older than I am.

I realise Lumin is watching me, his lips clamped together in apparent disapproval. He is a strange-looking person, not unattractive but he seems to have a sense of aggravation about him, his features tight in a permanent frown.

‘So, you're the only one this year?' he says.

I shrug, not knowing how to reply.

‘There were two last time,' he continues. ‘None of them are still here, of course.'

I think about Wray last night and assume that is the type of outcome he is referring to.

‘Are you an Offering?' I ask, trying to gain some control over the interrogation.

‘What do you think?' he shoots back.

The girl with the soldering iron spins around in her chair and rolls her eyes at me. ‘Don't mind him,' she says. ‘I'm Hari. We're all Offerings … well, what's left. Lumin's from two years ago, I'm four and he's five.' She nudges the person next to her, introducing him as Mira, and I feel guilty about not remembering their names the first time around. It means Lumin is only eighteen, quite a frightening thought considering how much older he looks. I wonder what he must have seen in the past two years to make him age so much. ‘Are you North?' she adds, continuing after I have nodded. ‘I remember you from last night. You were wearing purple, yes?'

‘It was my mother's,' I say, instantly wishing I could take it back. It feels as if I have already given too much of myself away by admitting it.

She nods as if remembering when she was in my position and I realise at least some of the older Offerings must have been in the crowd who were above us looking down. I want to ask more questions but Lumin takes charge, as Porter asked him to.

‘Enough chatting,' he says. ‘Come here.'

There are four thinkpads in front of him, each with something different on the screen. One is filled with fire but Lumin presses a button to turn it off before I can take too close an interest. He points from one thinkpad to the next. ‘Notice anything?' he asks.

My eyes flick through the screens. ‘Are those images from cameras from around the castle?'

‘At least you're not completely useless,' he says without a hint of it being a joke. ‘All of the cameras are attracted automatically to movement. We're trying to work on a system that will stop them being attracted to Kingsmen, instead just focusing on anybody else.'

I think about what he's saying for a moment. ‘So you have access to the security system?'

‘Why, are you trying to escape?' Lumin's tone is sneering but I feel more worried by the way I blurted out the question. ‘Do you think they're that stupid? If you're thinking like that already, you're not going to last long.'

‘I didn't mean that,' I protest, even though I did.

Lumin shakes his head dismissively. ‘Try it if you want and see what happens. Anyway, the Kingsmen's thinkwatches work on a different frequency to ours, so it should be a simple case of reprogramming the system that operates the cameras, right?'

‘I guess…'

‘Except the system was built before the war and has been patched up through the years, when it needed to be created from scratch. That leaves us trying to mix old and new to make something work.' He points to the bench of clutter behind me, then back to the thinkpads. ‘Those are from one of the cameras we have taken apart, while these give us access to the monitoring system.'

‘Limited access,' Mira interrupts without looking up. ‘I wouldn't go digging if I were you.'

Lumin smiles gently for the first time and I wonder if he was going to let me find that out for myself. The implication is pretty clear that everything we do is being monitored somewhere along the line.

‘Is this what you're all working on?' I ask.

‘Don't be stupid,' Lumin replies. ‘There are much bigger priorities but there's no way your thinkwatch will have the privileges.'

I check my thinkwatch momentarily and it is still working, although the button for communicate is unresponsive.

Lumin slides out of the way, allowing me to sit, before huffing his way out of the lab and entering the main area where Porter is. At first I don't do anything, instead taking in the dim surroundings. There are no windows and only the one door, with a long thin light across the ceiling providing the only illumination. It feels strange being in a room lit by anything other than the sun or a candle.

‘Don't mind him,' Hari says, not looking up.

I want to ask about the fates of last year's Offerings but am not sure I want to know the answer.

‘Just keep your head down, do the work, don't be stupid, and you'll be fine,' she adds.

‘Thanks.'

‘Are you an Elite?' she asks.

I show her the orange face of my thinkwatch. ‘Member.'

‘Fair enough.' She twists her wrist around to show me the grey-black face of hers. I can just about make out the shape of the crown imprinted into it. ‘We're Elites from the South, Lumin's a Member from the East. What's the North like?'

‘It's greener than down here.'

She smiles and returns to her work as I turn to one of the thinkpads, pressing my palm and thinkwatch into it until I feel it responding.

‘What are you working on?' I ask, trying to sound conversational but Hari simply laughs.

‘If you want to last around here, the first rule is don't ask questions.'

I don't reply but it's clear I have already been careless. I turn back to the thinkpads and start trying to figure out how everything works. At first, I consider asking but then wonder if throwing me in at the deep end is Porter's way of discovering if I am any use. Given everything that has happened in the past day, it is hard to judge what people's motivations may be. For Lumin, perhaps it is as simple as staying alive. Porter could be the crotchety man he seems to be, or he could be the person deciding who stays and who goes. He is a Kingsman after all.

It is barely a few minutes before I find myself being able to flick between various cameras around the castle. For the most part, there doesn't seem to be much going on as they show a host of empty corridors but it is hard to resist the urge to keep searching for unguarded doors and unbarred windows. From what I can tell, there is nothing monitoring our dormitories, although there are a few cameras that I don't have access to. As Lumin indicated, the system is a clumsy mess of mismatched technology but, luckily for me, it is the type of thing I have been messing around with my whole life. I try to slow myself, not wanting to make things look too easy, instead trying to watch what the others are doing from the corner of my eye.

Hari's thinkpad is showing moving images of something I assume is a bomb falling to the ground and then a large explosion. It doesn't seem real, more like some sort of simulation, but she is making small tweaks to whatever she is working on before running it again. She glances sideways towards me and, although I don't make any sudden movements to incriminate myself, she angles her screen away.

A couple of hours drag by as I go through the motions of working on the security system before Lumin and Porter enter the room. Porter checks my progress as I talk him through a few possible solutions I have. He continues to show a lack of interest but does stop at one point to tap something into his thinkwatch.

‘Good, good,' he mutters, watching the other screens, instead of mine. I already have a pretty good idea of how to fix things but, instead of doing it, I have offered a few things that probably won't work but sound possible. I know I sound naive but that's what I want. Competent and useful – not a threat.

‘You may as well head back to your dorm,' he says, addressing me. ‘You lot can head off too.'

I follow Lumin towards the door, confused that we are being allowed to move around without an escort. As he hurries away from me, I stand in the corridor, unsure of what I should be doing. The other two exit and say goodbye to each other, although there doesn't seem to be any warmth to it.

‘You're wondering why we can come and go as we please, aren't you?' Hari asks.

She sounds friendly but I'm not ready to trust anyone. ‘Am I that obvious?' I reply, trying to sound as adolescent as I did to Porter.

If she sees through me, then she doesn't show it. ‘Think about it,' she says. ‘Where are you going to go? Try the doors and the windows and see how many open. Even if they did, where would it get you? Another courtyard with more high walls?' She nods at a camera mounted above the door of the lab. ‘Not to mention the army of red lights keeping an eye out. We can all go where we want because there's nowhere to go.'

‘I don't know where the dorm is,' I say, realising she is right but not wanting to believe it.

She points along the corridor and gives me a series of directions, which I surprise myself by being able to recite back. I want to ask where she stays but don't get a chance as she edges past me and disappears into the distance, her footsteps echoing along the hard stone floor.

I glance up to the blinking light under the camera and then set off the way I was told.

As I trudge through the corridors, I am trying to make a mental note of where everything is. I am so lost in my thoughts that I can only gasp in shock as someone puts a hand across my mouth and yanks me roughly through a doorway.

13

My instinct is to shout for help – or simply bite and kick – but, as I am spun around, I find myself face to face with Hart. His stare tells me to stay quiet as he slowly releases his fingers from around my face and whispers an apology. My eyes dart around the room, which is some sort of storage area stocked with uniforms and cleaning utensils. It is as low-tech as something we might have in Martindale but I can't see any blinking camera lights.