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DARCY’S CONTACT INSIDE the Monitoring Division eyed them with wary suspicion, but wasted no time in ushering them into her private office. Amos caught a glimpse of a plastic ID card on her jacket: Tara Lindholm. He tried not to stare at the impressive array of sophisticated technology, guessing the less she knew about their identities, the better.
“The Gallery footage, unedited.” Darcy didn’t waste time or bother to introduce them. Lindholm gestured at the various screens, apparently unfazed by Darcy’s officiousness or the anonymous group crowding into her personal domain.
I wonder if it’s respect or fear. Amos was sure he already knew the answer as they clustered around her workstation.
The trip from Darcy’s villa on the eastern side of the Enclave to the bustling downtown—if there was such a thing in Hoarderville—was eye-opening. There was little conversation along the way. They were unable to fit into a single Hoarder truck, and were forced to take the subway instead.
Darcy’s instructions had been very specific. Say as little as possible—the eyes and ears of the Givers are everywhere. None of them felt like making small talk, and aside from minimal verbal directions from one of the Hoarders, they were left alone with their own thoughts.
The subway afforded a limited view of Enclave’s interior, and the high-speed transportation rendered what little they could see into one big blur.
Amos stifled his dark humor as they were whisked through the tunnels, surrounded by dozens of unsuspecting Citizens.
All blissfully unaware that the dreaded savages are seated among them. Amos repressed a sardonic grin. I’ll bet this is what the tunnels under our City used to look like, when the subways were still running.
Lindholm’s voice jarred him back to the present. She sat at her workstation, the rest of the group gathered around her in a tense semi-circle, all eyes on the various view-screens. “Would you like to review the protest itself, Councilor, or are you more interested in the terrorist attack?”
Darcy crossed his arms, glaring at the multiple screens. “The whole thing, but slow it down as the attack begins.”
There was a great deal of additional footage compared to the Infomedia broadcast, from several distinct angles, each camera providing a differing perspective. For the next several minutes, they watched the footage in silence, alert for any extraneous detail.
“Wait—freeze it.” Connor pointed to one of the monitors. Lindholm complied. All eyes were on the screen he indicated, top right in the panel. “You can see when the Trackers started chasing each other. Look at the trail they leave when they start pushing through the crowd.”
“Slow motion from this point.” Darcy leaned on the back of Lindholm’s chair. She acquiesced with an irritated look, not appreciating the way his weight offset her balance.
Amos leaned forward, intent on the footage as the two Trackers crashed through the protest. The first one—the female—traveled in a straight line, while the second angled through the crowd on an intercept course.
Their paths converged a few meters short of the Gallery’s entrance. Just beyond, the beleaguered protestors huddled together, seeking protection from the surly mob.
“There.” Connor pointed, triumphant. “Two explosions, one after the other. I’m telling you, this wasn’t a coincidence. The female Tracker meant to take the other one out.”
“One more time, as close as you can magnify it.” Darcy squinted, straining to make out the details. Lindholm obeyed, but the video was already close to maximum magnification.
The scene played out as before, slow and choppy, until the overlapping explosions. Dust and fire-tinged smoke filled the screen, obscuring their view.
“Trackers hunting each other.” Darcy stared at the murky screen. “What’s the Givers’ strategy? What possible advantage could this give them?”
Amos glanced covertly at him. For once, it sounded as if Darcy was asking a legitimate question.
“To silence the protesters?” Garr stared at the screen as the smoke began to clear, revealing the human carnage in the blast radius. “There’s no point—not with the Anodyne Initiative already underway. A handful of protesters aren’t going to sway public opinion that much.”
“What’s this?” Sheila interrupted, pointing to a separate view-screen, set on its own console against the wall. Unlike the cluster of screens Lindholm monitored, this instrument panel was overlaid with a grid-like pattern.
A street map. Amos squeezed past Tony to stand next to the console. Probably the Enclave.
“New technology,” Lindholm replied crisply. She glanced over her shoulder, waiting for Darcy’s approval. At his curt nod, she continued in her clipped monotone.
“It was installed just a few days ago. See the red outlines?” She reached over to adjust the tech, and the screen zoomed in to highlight a smaller subsection of the grid. “Those are vehicles, and the dots inside represent the precise number of Citizens in each one.”
She stabbed a finger at the icons, tracing their progress. “These people have already received their nodes. They’ve also voluntarily registered their vehicles. Once the Initiative is up and running, we’ll be able to pinpoint anyone’s location, what vehicle they’re in, and who they’re traveling with.”
Amos frowned, puzzled by the convoluted strategy of the Givers. Beside him, Sheila uttered a startled gasp, and he knew she’d figured it out. “So, if you see a vehicle on the grid, but there’s no occupants with nodes inside . . .”
Lindholm nodded, a predatory look in her eyes. “Then the vehicle’s been stolen. No node, no Citizenship. We could isolate and eliminate them within minutes.”
She waved a nonchalant hand at the cluster of view-screens. “We’ll still use video surveillance, but the real security will be the nodes. And this new technology.”
“What about the protesters?” Garr asked. “The Citizens who decide—for whatever reason—they don’t want to join the Initiative?”
Lindholm snorted. “They’ll be given nodes anyway, for the good of the Enclave. Exile is the only alternative. If they want to live like the savages, they can live with the savages. That’s just my opinion, of course.”
Darcy leaned in close over her shoulder.
“This meeting never took place,” he breathed in her ear, the implied threat chilling. “And you have never seen these people.”
Lindholm froze, and Amos saw her eyes widen in fear. She stared straight ahead, her hands limp at the controls. “As you wish, Councilor.”
Darcy pivoted to face the rest of the group, his pale eyes boring into each of them in turn. Even Connor, Amos noticed, was not exempt from Darcy’s withering gaze.
“Tony will meet you on the parking level. He’ll transport you outside the Enclave. It’s time you returned to your Hub.”
He paused before opening the door, turning to issue a final warning. “The Anodyne Initiative is moving ahead. You must return, with reinforcements, before it’s complete. Tony will be waiting for you.”