Threader (11 page)

‘Has anyone travelled inside the shadow biosphere itself?' I ask.

Cora shakes her head. ‘If the slipstream is a river, then the shadow biosphere is a bottomless ocean. Anyone who goes there doesn't come back. Sometimes, you can see dark fissures beyond the lightpath. Apparently they lead directly to the heart of the biosphere itself.'

‘Ever see any sharks?' Darsh jokes.

Cora gives a small laugh that sounds forced. ‘Not yet.'

I put my fork down and push my plate away. ‘Do you know of anyone who's gotten lost in the slipstream?'

Cora's forehead wrinkles and Darsh gives her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. I throw him a questioning look.

‘The sliders had a good tutorial teacher until recently,' Darsh explains. ‘After he left, Blake Galloway took over the class.'

Grief surfaces in Cora's eyes. ‘He didn't leave. He was diagnosed with inoperable brain cancer. So he chose the deep.'

‘What does that mean?' I glance at Darsh, but he's watching Cora with a pained expression.

She gives me a weak smile. ‘Choosing the deep is suicide. It's to enter one of those fissures. Like I said, no one comes back from that.'

Next to her tray, Cora's slate beeps. She stares down at it, then grimaces. ‘I forgot to tell you. I'm supposed to take you to Director Eckhart's office. Your last appointment for the day, I promise.'

‘Who's Director Eckhart?' I ask, the name sounding familiar.

‘The big banana around here.' Darsh waggles his eyebrows at me. ‘The grand director of the executive committee of Helios. He was army intelligence before he came to the academy. He's so scary he made a cadet wet his pants once.'

I look at Cora. ‘Serious?'

‘Darsh is joking,' she assures me.

‘I run in the opposite direction if I see him coming,' Darsh deadpans. ‘Once I hid in a bush to avoid him, and I swear he knew I was there.'

‘Does he meet with all new cadets?' I ask faintly.

‘Not usually,' Cora admits.

‘Cheer up.' Darsh sees my worried look. ‘I'm sure it's nothing serious.'

‘Have you ever met him?' I ask.

‘No way.' Darsh pulls a horrified face. ‘And I hope I never have to.'

Director Eckhart's office is on the top floor of Central and a stern-faced woman guards the closed double doors to his office. After a ten minute wait, she motions for us to enter. The office interior is a wash of khaki and gold framed photos. Packing boxes sit in front of an empty bookcase and a pile of books are stacked beside it.

Eckhart sits behind a dark mahogany desk, his eyes scanning a monitor. He looks up when Cora and I enter. He's got dark, slicked-back hair with a widow's peak, and he wears a sharp charcoal suit with a crimson tie. A thick platinum flexi-slate shackles his left wrist, read-outs flickering across the curved screen.

‘Ms Ryder.' His voice has a rasp to it, like gravel being shovelled into a steel bin. ‘Excuse the mess.' He indicates for me to sit in one of the leather wingback chairs facing his desk. ‘I hear you like to be called Josie.'

‘Would you like me to go?' Cora asks from behind me, sounding nervous.

Eckhart stares at her like he doesn't even know why she's there in the first place. Cora throws me a sympathetic expression, then hurries from the room.

‘Please.' Eckhart motions for me to sit again. ‘Make yourself comfortable.'

The leather chair creaks as I lower myself into it. Eckhart swipes the monitor shut and turns to give me his full attention.

‘I'm told your tests show that you've got great potential as a threader.' Eckhart's smile is lopsided and I realise the left side of his face has no muscle tone. He places his hands on his desk. ‘Tell me. What are your impressions of Helios so far?'

I say the first words that pop into my head. ‘Big. Clean. Shiny.'

I wince at my complete lack of articulation, but Eckhart just nods, like he gets that feedback a lot. His eyes are bright as they watch me, and I get a sense of a ruthless intelligence in their depths. ‘I was told you weren't aware Alice and James graduated and worked here at Helios for a number of years.' A small amount of saliva wets the corner of his drooping mouth and he pulls a cloth from his pocket to wipe it. ‘Sad day when they left. Helios lost a good team.'

‘Can you tell me why they left?' The words come out in a rush.

Eckhart tucks the handkerchief away, not answering me. After a moment, he says, ‘James was killed in a car accident, wasn't he? I read the police report. Says you were in the car with him. Trapped until a rescue unit came and cut you out. Is that right?'

I nod, hoping he's not going to pry any further.

‘You have my sympathies.' Eckhart's lips move funny, as if the kind words don't sit naturally in his mouth.

‘My uncle raised me,' I say.

‘Yes. Bobby Ryder.' A brief smile flicks across his face. ‘I read his file. I always have respect for a man who's served. Gives people a chance to see what they're made of. And it's those people whose sacrifices enable our freedom to develop the big, the clean, and the shiny. Things for us all to enjoy.'

I'm uncertain of where this conversation is going, but am acutely aware that Eckhart still hasn't answered my question about why my parents left. It's on the tip of my tongue to ask again, but Eckhart speaks before I can.

‘You've come to us well into the academic year. The first year cadets have the advantage of many months of seminars, tutorials and training. My inclination is to throw you in the deep end, see if you sink or swim. You'd be given any assistance you need. But you're going to have to be hungry to succeed.' He pauses and looks at me expectantly. ‘Are you hungry, Josie?'

‘Yes,' I tell him.

His demeanour relaxes. ‘Then we'll see how things go.' He leans back, steepling his fingers. ‘I do have some hopes you'll consider following your parents' path, perhaps even picking up some of their research. No one has come close to making the kind of discoveries they did, you know. Is that something you think you might be interested in?'

I bite my lip, not sure how to respond. Something happened to my parents before I was born, something that made them want to live in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. A trauma from the past had sent them there, of that I was sure. I want to find out what did that to them and I know the answer is here. But I can't shake a sensation of dread at what I might find.

Eckhart sees my hesitation and his brow crinkles for a moment before smoothing out. He waves a casual hand, as if to dismiss his earlier words. ‘Plenty of time for those kinds of discussions though.' He clears his throat. ‘Now, it was brought to my attention that you had an altercation with a cadet in one of the common rooms this morning. Dutch Hemming. Primal boy.' Eckhart waves vaguely at his hair. ‘Sensible haircut.'

I press my lips together tight, not sure what to say. I don't want to lie, but I don't want to complain that Dutch was harassing me either. It seems like a bad move and I've already bombed out with Archer and Cooper at dinner.

‘I know things for you have been difficult,' he says. ‘I was dirt poor and nearly starving myself before I joined the army, just a weakling telepath. You know how I dealt with that?'

He pauses and I shake my head.

‘Strong mind and discipline.' Eckhart's eyes narrow. ‘Something missing from today's youth. All born feeling they have the right to Citizenship. I didn't have a passport to such privileges, despite having a talent. No one was waving magical Citizenships for my kind back then. No. I achieved my goals after serving my time for my country. I had to work for it, through my own sweat and blood.' Eckhart rests back in his chair. ‘But I feel the need to remind you that this is not some lawless alleyway back home. This is the Helios Academy. Here, every cadet and potential future employee of Galloway Industries is expected to behave in accordance with the code of the Helios Academy.'

‘What happened with Dutch won't happen again.' I say this with a quiet confidence. If I had to dodge him for the rest of the year, I would.

Eckhart nods, looking satisfied. ‘Unofficially, of course, I like it when a cadet shows grit. Keeps others honest. But just try to keep it out of medical.'

‘Uh … okay.'

Eckhart pauses again, watching me, and I wonder if I've been dismissed but missed the signal. After another moment, I go to rise and he raises a hand to stop me.

‘One more thing.'

I sit back and wait. Eckhart lowers his hands and drums his fingers against the desktop.

‘I said before that your tests show potential. Except for the threading session with Aaron Galloway, which failed miserably.'

My face grows warm. ‘I don't know what happened.'

‘And I have no doubt you tried,' he says. ‘A theory is being formulated, and it has to do with the manner in which you were brought to Helios.'

My mind turns blank, before an image of Blake's scowling face flashes across my memory. ‘Blake Galloway?'

‘There have been recorded instances of when a thread has gone too deep, causing a psionic lock,' Eckhart says. ‘It makes it difficult for a threader to form a secure thread with anyone else.'

‘Are you saying I'm locked … with Blake Galloway?' My voice is almost a squeak.

‘That's the working theory. Alice's own thread was locked solid with James's talent after years of working closely together. It made them a powerful team. The downside was they were eventually unable to work with anyone else because of it.' Eckhart stops to wipe his mouth with his cloth, then puts it away with a frown. ‘Now, I'll be honest with you. I'm not sure what kind of use the academy has for a cadet whose only talent is the ability to accompany sliders through the lightpath. After all, we have sliders for that.' He gives me a grim smile. ‘Do you understand?'

‘Can this lock be broken?' My voice rises a notch.

He nods. ‘I'm confident we'll find a way. After all, we're not yet sure if this bond is even a reality. We will monitor the situation and you'll need to tell myself or Wendell if anything unusual happens.'

‘What's unusual?' I ask, almost not wanting to know.

‘An unwarranted sense of over-familiarity. Shared dreams or experiences. We'll run a few more tests before we reach that conclusion, though.'

‘If I locked with Blake, it was an accident,' I say. ‘And I'll do what it takes to fix it.'

‘No one doubts that,' Eckhart says. ‘I am confident we can overcome this hurdle. Trust me, Josie, and trust Helios.' He stands, now clearly indicating that the meeting has finished. I get to my feet and thank him in a small voice, feeling somewhat disheartened.

Eckhart walks me to the door. ‘In the meantime, you will steer clear of Blake Galloway. After all, we don't want to make things worse.'

When I'm outside the building, I pull out my slate to check if I've got any messages. My schedule pops up automatically, letting me know I've got nothing on until tomorrow. Ducking into bed with a book for the rest of the day is a tempting thought, but instead I decide to take advantage of the fresh air.

The lush grounds around me are punctuated by old fashioned lamp posts, information booths and maintenance androids that buzz about, searching for litter or a stray blade of grass. Cadets hurry from one place to another, laughing and talking among themselves.

Finding a stone bench between buildings, I sit down with a heavy sigh. My spot is secluded and peaceful enough that I close my eyes and rest my head in my hands, trying to absorb what Eckhart told me. I hope this isn't some cruel cosmic joke, with me finally getting somewhere in life, only to find my talent crippled, unable to thread with anyone other than Blake. And there was the little matter about my parents. Discovering they used to work here feels like a sign that I'm finally on the right path and I was more than ready to start living the kind of life I always knew I deserved.

I don't register the sound of approaching footsteps until they're close. Before I can look up, someone kicks my leg, jarring my arms and knocking me out of my thoughts. Hands twist the front of my shirt and I'm hauled to my feet.

‘I've been looking for you.'

Dutch's squinty eyes glare at me. He seems to have recovered well enough from our earlier altercation. At least, he's standing straight again. In the dim light, I spy a nasty red welt across his nose from where I threw my coffee at him. He gives me a shake and my toes scrape the ground. Then he shoves me against the wall and my breath whooshes out.

‘Get your big monkey hands off me,' I say, struggling in his grip.

‘You tried to make me look stupid,' he snarls.

‘Didn't need to try hard.' My feet scrabble for the ground as I attempt to coax my talents out, but the lid to my puzzle-chest box stays firmly closed, my talents exhausted from the day.