March City: Rebellion of the Gifted [Book 2 | Complete | Fantasy/Sci-fi]

Chapter 12: Deal with March City

A tall, slender woman with a bio-gel helmet exited, flanked by two others wearing similar attire. She walked with a confident air, shoulders back, chest thrust forward, long legs striding with ease. The others scuttled behind her, their features barely visible in the light and behind the helmet. Ari stared.

She was beautiful, but in such an otherworldly way. She had wide, dark eyes with wrinkles at the edges, neat arching black eyebrows, and thick black hair streaked with grey. Her skin was smooth and a shade of brown like the flourishing trees outside, glowing pink even through the light blue tint of the helmet. She wore a long, grey cardigan that swished down to her knees.

Ari clutched the bars, ignoring the light, trembling discomfort from the shield.

"We have been expecting you, March City students," she said. She was soft-spoken like Lira, but her voice was warm rather than icy and calculating. When she smiled, there was a gap between her two front teeth. "My name is Jenny. I'm a doctor here — a healer. Pardon my helmet. This is for... precautions. Judging from the state of some of your comrades when we rescued them, I dare say you're aware of what's going on."

"Where—"

"We are here for negotiation," Lira cut Ari off, shooting her a look that warned her not to speak out of turn. Ari closed her mouth. They were in enemy territories now. It would be prudent not to give them information to use against the students until they secured something for Mina and the others.

"Straight to the point as ever, Lira," said the woman as if she'd known Lira forever. Lira blinked, taken aback. "We can, of course, address that negotiation. Would you and your comrades care for some freshening up and food?"

Lira exchanged a look with Ari.

"How do we know we can trust you?" said Ari.

"I'm glad you're taking an active part in everyone's welfare now, Ari," said Jenny, her eyes bright. "Well, I suppose we could kill all of you, but there's no point in doing it in such an underhanded way, surely? You're in a nanocarbon cage right now. If I'm not here to listen to your negotiations, would I offer you food?"

"How... how do you know our names?"

"I've been watching all of you for years now."

The words unnerved Ari more than she dared to admit.

"We'll take you up on your offer," said Lira.

"Good. I know you always make the better choice. Let my assistants scan you first. We need to ascertain your infection status. This allows us to decide if it's safe to expose you to the other citizens."

"What is this disease?" said Ari. "We've... lots of our students have gotten sick from it. Badly sick. But some of us are okay."

Jenny's face darkened. "We call it the splicer virus. It alters the hormone receptors in the brain and corrodes the frontal lobe, making logical thoughts impossible and the sick survive solely on pulses. I'll tell you more later."

The two assistants approached them with probes. Ari allowed her arm to be scanned. The probe emitted a similar kind of red grid light. It beeped. The screen faced away from her so she didn't know what it said. The assistant exchanged a look with Jenny, who nodded. The nanocarbon cage unravelled to create a door. All the students were scanned, but Ari couldn't get a glimpse of the screen's outcome.

"Clear," said the assistant at the end, turning to Jenny. Jenny nodded and tapped the side of her bubble helmet. It receded, turning into a chip that she slid into her jacket pocket. The assistants took to the rear and Jenny led the students through the sliding glass doors down a corridor. Pale yellow light from ceiling panels lit the way. Cameras surveyed them from all corners. Most of the doors stayed shut, although a few opened to show empty metal chairs and tables. They crammed into the lift, a circular metal device not dissimilar to the ones Ari was occasionally forced to use in Area Seven, which took them down to the first floor. The doors opened into a busier hallway. People passed them without a second glance, talking amongst themselves. Unlike the March City students, all of whom were pale, these people were a mix; some with yellow or brown skin, others with sleek black hair or voluminous puffs, and their tongues were not easily discernible.