The Phoenix Enigma Trilogy 2: The Phoenix Enigma

By Jay Aspen

Would you risk everything to save your friends?  
Jac's survival is even more precarious now she has joined the Resistance, but her perceptive abilities have become more powerful and valuable than the fighting skills of the other rangers. 

 

Then she learns that with power comes responsibility. 

Danger, love and courage play out in this epic struggle, as the rulers of the Avarit imperium will stop at nothing to hang on to their control of the country and its people.   The risks are high, the enemy ruthless and unpredictable, and only trust and friendship will ensure anyone survives…

Trilogy 2; Books 4, 5, & 6 of the Phoenix Enigma series, the near-future dystopian epic from Jay Aspen.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sandfire Publishing Ltd
• Release date: Jan 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9781393785774

Jay Aspen

Jay writes from experiences in wilderness travel and extreme sports; snow peaks in the Andes, big walls in Yosemite and Baffin Island, sailing the Irish sea to photograph puffins and dolphins. A science degree and training with Himalayan shamans led to an interest in bio-psychology. She lives in the wild Welsh Borders, sings jazz, rides horses.

Book preview

Map

Future Britain

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.

Northstar

Book 4

1

Jac gunned the stolen jeep as fast as she dared on the crumbling road surface, fearing that too much jolting would put the heavily repaired military vehicle out of action altogether. Trying to cover any distance across rough country on foot was not an option with Kit still recovering from the bomb blast. He needed time and rest to regain his former strength and this wild, lurching escape was rapidly making things worse.

Jac glanced across at Bel. She was asleep, her long legs scrunched into the minimum space remaining since she had moved the passenger seat forward to make more room for the two in the back. Jac envied the way the experienced ranger could use every opportunity to rest and recharge her formidable energy, ready for the next battle.

Her own mind was still too hyped from their recent escape to even think about sleep and she held back from relinquishing her turn at the wheel. Part of her focus was running hasty calculations, knowing from years of navigating neglected roads that this route would be seriously unforgiving for night driving.

How much distance have we already put between ourselves and the military base? And how many more miles can we cover in the remaining hours of daylight?

It was inevitable that more armed vehicles would soon be redeployed and sent in deadly pursuit.

By the time the windswept reeds of the eastern salt marshes had given way to flat scrubland and scattered stands of windblown trees, they had already passed several road junctions. Jac made a wild guess at the best direction and opted for straight ahead before passing the map tablet back over her shoulder.

By the way people, where are we going? Apart from heading away from that compound in a hurry.

Fin was wedged in the back seat of the jeep where she had been treating Kit’s cracked ribs with the psi-neuropulse device. She handed the psi to her patient for safekeeping and reached forward to grab the map, giving a hiss of pain as her bandaged fingers connected with the tablet.

Give me a minute to check. I’ve only been over to this side of the country once in the last few years.

Jac glanced at Fin in the rear-view mirror, watching the elderly medic study the maps.

Calm, controlled, thoughtful. As always.

Fin had a quiet assertiveness that made everything sound so matter of fact in spite of their precarious situation. Jac found her mentor’s offhand manner reassuring, especially now Fin had quietly, unofficially, taken over the lead since the IED in the market had left Kit recovering from concussion as well as damaged ribs.

As if she’s simply taking us on a plant-hunting expedition instead of running for our lives with who knows how many guns behind us.

Fin handed back the tablet. I don’t think we can head directly west to get to the Tarn, even though it would be the shortest distance. It would mean crossing the intensive food production acreages in the central zone where we would be easily visible from the air. Not enough tree cover.

Jac instinctively glanced up at the empty sky, half expecting a phalanx of aircraft to appear overhead at any second.

Don’t let anxiety take over from logic...

Fin, I only heard three small planes taking off when we were locked up at that military base.

Not military planes. The crop-patrol drones would spot us before we were even halfway across. Their cameras aren’t only for monitoring the watering and pesticide-spraying. They also track food thieves, and of course any debt-slaves trying to escape from the insolvency hostels. Or we might run into hostel guards.

So we head north?

For now, at least. There’s good tree cover across the line of hills running north-south up the middle of the country. The area is as big as the western forest and it’s mostly uninhabited. We’ve been clear of pursuit for the last few miles. If we can take advantage of that, we might make it.

Jac glanced at the map tablet between pothole-dodging.

And then?

Wait till the military gives up hunting us. Then it’s a reasonable gamble to double back and get home to the Tarn. Or, if we don’t get that chance, we keep heading north.

To the Ice Islands? To Jac it was just a name, an unknown place beyond the reach of her knowledge or experience, apart from a few intriguing seconds of vid that Kit had shown her during the evac from the Warren.

Maybe. If the hunt gets too intense in this part of the country.

I don’t know much about the Ice Islands. I always thought they were frozen and mostly uninhabited. Have you been there, Fin?

A few times, with groups of refugees escaping from the city. The roads are too frost damaged to get military vehicles across, so it’s the safest place to take families with children. And with aviation fuel so scarce and expensive, the military can’t afford to send planes that extra distance. For now, we can focus on the idea of using the forest as cover, then doubling back home if or when things go quiet. The first part of the journey is the same.

Jac gave one last glance at the map and headed for the nearest main road.

North it is then.

*

Raine was pacing, back and forth across his reclaimed office at the Warren farmhouse. At least there was room here to move from one plain whitewashed wall to the other but with four of his rangers still out of contact after their escape, it was small comfort to be back on familiar territory––even if it was preferable to the cramped space he had recently vacated at the Tarn. All his focus was on the people currently beyond his help, over on the east side of the country.

Prime targets for the Avarit military.

He was finding it impossible to disentangle the way he felt about Jac and his anxiety for her safety with his sense of responsibility for what had happened to all four of them. It had been his decision to send them into the city and the market. And yes, his instinct had been right. They had managed to evacuate the crowds before the bomb ripped through the whole area.

But that very success had led to their arrest.

It should have been me, not them. I should have been there.

Raine knew that if Fin were here she would deliver her usual mentoring lecture. This time it would be about how he had been exactly where he needed to be during that op. As commander of the western forest Resistance, it had been his responsibility to oversee the relocation of all hundred and forty rangers from the Warren to the Tarn and to get the place operational in the shortest possible time.

But everything was moving too fast, every future path fraught with flaws and dangers, leaving him trapped in a cycle that only offered bad choices. Fin had already tried and failed to deflect the legacy Avarit rendition had left in him, the survivor guilt that that haunted him, heightening his anxiety about a loved one in danger.

Raine forced himself to stop pacing. It wasn’t helping. Every time there was a respite from immediate demands, Jac’s image would be there in his mind. He could see her running across the clearing outside her farm, chestnut curls blowing across her face, green eyes full of laughter, her elfin body lithe and graceful even in her grey-brown Outlander work clothes...

He wondered why he remembered her as she had looked when he met her, before the rangers’ strict camouflage discipline made her cut and darken her hair, before she exchanged her coarse grey hemp coveralls for a shadowed flak jacket––and weapons for which she had no training and still could not use.

I should never have let her talk me into taking her away from her home. She wasn’t ready to deal with this level of threat before she learned to defend herself...

Raine’s best hope for his missing people lay in what might play out in the next twenty-four hours. Michael Parry’s new promotion to military chief now gave him far greater power within the Avarit system. Power to help the fugitives evade capture a second time––if Raine could persuade him to defy the strict orders from the president to hunt them down and kill them. He had no way of knowing whether the colonel’s sense of obligation for their help would outweigh the lure of enhancing his career and reputation.

And if Parry’s association with a known outlaw is discovered, a ruined career will be the least of his concerns.

Raine’s restless spirit chafed at the need to wait another day for this meeting. Anything could happen by then and none of the possibilities were likely to improve his chances of persuading the colonel to extend their recent truce.

He called Cass at the Tarn and waited impatiently for her to pick up, reflecting that there were disadvantages to having older and more experienced advisers with whom he could talk through problems. When they were no longer immediately available the empty space they left behind was hard to deal with when so many lives were at stake. Not only was Fin out of contact altogether, but Raine’s head of intelligence was still based a day’s journey further north, on the other end of an unreliable analogue link.

This time to his intense relief, Cass took only a few seconds to answer, although her image was little more than the usual fuzzy outline of long honey-brown hair and tanned features.

Raine? What is it now? Second call in as many hours.

I just thought you might have come up with something that might influence Parry, persuade him to be more proactive in getting Jac and the others back here. Something we haven’t explored so far.

Sorry, Raine. The blurry image moved a little. We went through everything I could think of last time you called. You really are the best judge, seeing as you’re the only one apart from Bel who had a chance to actually talk to the colonel face to face. And the key will be in how well and how quickly you can adapt to the way things unfold at this meeting of yours. Provided it isn’t a trap of course.

I’ll scope it out carefully––but I don’t think that kind of deception is the way Parry operates.

Don’t forget, his predecessor issued a kill order on one of his own undercover agents. That kind of system affects everyone in it eventually. If you hadn’t moved that tracker, Luc would already be dead.

Raine repressed a shiver. That episode had come way too close to disaster.

I know... but that’s why so much depends on my getting it right tomorrow––

You’ll be fine. And the warning light is flashing. The link is about to go down again––

The crackle of static drowned anything else Cass might have said as the tenuous analogue connection failed once more.

2

Evening dusk was deepening to night when Jac gave up trying to see potholes in the dark and turned the jeep onto a rough logging road. It was the first sizeable stand of forest they had encountered since crossing this area of scrubland. She parked the jeep well out of sight behind a dense clump of evergreens and hurried round to the far side of the vehicle.

Bel was attempting to get Kit out of the back seat without damaging his ribs even further, using all her height and muscle to support his weight. He was gripping the side of the vehicle, trying to stifle a grunt of pain as Bel carefully eased him to the ground. Jac knelt beside him and ran sensitive fingers across his chest, palpating for additional damage. Nothing seemed to be out of place.

Nothing to explain why he seems to be getting worse instead of better.

She slid her pack under his broad shoulders.

Kit, see if this helps. If you could just get more sleep it might make a difference.

He tried to smile but it was a visible effort through the exhaustion. Thanks, Jac. I’ll expect I’ll be fine in a couple of days.

He looked and sounded a long way from fine but she didn’t comment. Fin climbed out of the jeep, gave Kit a quick appraisal and to Jac’s surprise walked off into the trees with a curt wave that told her to follow. There was always a good reason why Fin did anything, even though it often took a while before the value of it became obvious. Jac left Bel to keep an eye on Kit and hurried to catch up.

Fin? Where are we going?

Fin showed no sign of slowing her pace. I think we’re probably ahead of the hunt until tomorrow, so this could be your last chance to learn a few things that may help keep us all alive. She noticed Jac’s look of alarm. Don’t panic! It’s not combat training. I suspect results in that direction would be insignificant. Relative to time invested, anyhow.

So maybe you could give me some clues, instead of dropping something totally unexpected on me when I’m feeling too tired to be particularly adaptable?

Fin seemed in no mood for going into details.

This is only the first stage. It won’t take long. While we were being transported to that grimy place in the marshes, Kit gave me more information on the truthseer abilities you demonstrated while you were with him and the others in the city.

Jac followed her into the shadowy trees in silence, hurrying to keep up with the relentless pace the wiry medic was setting. There was no point asking any of the dozen questions demanding attention. Not yet, anyhow. She had already learned enough to guess that Fin was simply being careful to prevent her from forming preconceived ideas before launching into something new. One question had already been answered. The subject of the whispered conversation in Illyrian between Fin and Kit in the back of the jeep while they were being taken to the marshes after their arrest.

Jac hadn’t yet had time to learn the reconstructed language the rangers used for covert communications. She had assumed at the time that Fin had been asking Kit about his injuries, trying to discover why he was not recovering as expected for someone who was previously so strong and healthy.

Now it seemed that Kit, as usual, had given priority to the needs of others. Jac hoped he wouldn’t pay too heavy a price with his own slow healing. Whether it was the damaged ribs or the concussion, or some deeper trauma from the bomb blast that they had so far failed to discover, she was starting to fear that this relentless journey would finish him if they failed to find a safe house somewhere.

At last Fin halted in a stand of ash circled by the dominant evergreens on the slope of the low hill. She motioned Jac to sit on a fallen tree and stood beside her, speaking quietly, her instructions edged with her usual assertiveness.

Jac, I can’t say exactly how your gift will develop. Everyone is different. If we aim for a fixed outcome it could limit your potential. So we both need to be open to what happens and be prepared to explore. First, focus on the forest. When you pick up on what I’m doing, go along with it, copy, learn.

Jac steadied her breathing and let her senses align with the pulsing life-force of the surrounding forest. After spending so much time in constant danger in the city, the familiar focus on the shimmering network of connections brought waves of relief washing through her body. After a few moments she could feel Fin’s presence emerging in her mind, more demanding and powerful than her grandfather had ever been even in his more autocratic moods.

She overcame the shock of it and held back her instinct to resist, letting Fin’s direction take her as she cautiously aligned her own concentration with that of her guide. Gradually, she became aware that Fin was calling... something.

Slowly, the snake emerged into her consciousness until she could no longer tell whether she was reading the forest with the mind of human or serpent. The unfamiliar intrusion felt invasive and disturbing but she resisted the urge to break focus and hide from it, telling herself to trust her mentor’s expertise.  Fin would bring her back again, when... what?

I wish I knew where this is going.

Even in the half-light she could see the dark zigzag markings running from head to tail as the adder slithered through the grass at her feet.

Fin stooped and picked it up.

Hold out your hand.

Jac obeyed, steeling herself for the burn the split second before sharp fangs sank into the soft flesh at the side of her palm, while a small but persistent voice at the back of her mind insisted that maybe this was taking trust just a bit too far.

Thank you. Fin was whispering softly to the creature as her fingers expertly released its jaws from Jac’s hand. She set it down, stepping aside as it slithered silently back into the shadows. Almost in the same movement she pricked her finger and dropped a spot of blood on each of Jac’s burning puncture wounds.

Jac looked up hopefully. Does that work as an antidote? The vicious sting of the snake venom was becoming unbearable.

Catalyst. Vaccine. Just enough to guide your own immune system to transmute the poison more quickly than it would on its own. You told me before that your grandfather taught you to work with psychoneuroimmunology techniques. This takes the concept a bit further. Don’t try to ask questions right now. Focus on what is happening inside your body.

Jac found it difficult to obey this time, unwilling to engage with the toxic pain. She desperately wanted to focus elsewhere until it was all over but the presence of Fin’s unrelenting willpower in her consciousness was as compelling as an armlock.

It’s making it worse!

Keep going.

Jac no longer questioned leaving behind the need for words and let herself fall into the poisoned darkness, the clash of chemistry stinging in her veins. Indistinct shapes and feelings and sounds lurked in that darkness and none of them felt good. Worse, the black pit they were pulling her into promised worse to come...

And then it was over. Somehow she had crossed a tipping point as the chain reaction spread through her body like cool water. She felt light-headed and dizzy but Fin was supporting her, steady and reassuring, preventing her from falling off her perch on the tree.

Jac, keep focus on the body-learning. Can you remember how it feels?

I––I think so. Jac absently wiped beads of sweat from her face as she paused for a few moments to go over the microscopic sensations of the catalyst change before they faded. "But what’s it for? If the enforcers catch up with us tomorrow they’re going to be shooting at us, not injecting us with snake venom!"

Fin finally allowed herself a smile and Jac started to relax, sensing or maybe simply hoping that the painful part was over, at least for now. Before releasing her shoulders, Fin checked that she was steady enough to stay upright without collapsing.

You just fast-tracked the way priestesses in some ancient cultures accustomed themselves to increasing doses of venom until they were immune. They used it to see visions of the future.

Is that what I’m supposed to do with it?

No. Unreliable hallucinations aren’t much use to us. It’s the process of transmuting that develops your focus and your control for other purposes. Fin paused, as if knowing the next shred of information might be just a little harder to accept. And it makes it easier to deal with each new poison.

Oh great. You mean I’ve more like that to look forward to?

It gets easier. Fin led the way back to the jeep.

Hmph. I remember Kit saying the same thing about getting shot at after my first day training at the Warren. Hasn’t happened yet.

Fin just laughed.

*

3

Jac woke suddenly at dawn, terrified and sweating, forcing control into her breathing, calming the panic. It had been a restless night, haunted by strange dreams and images.

I’m glad Fin told me the visions were unreliable. Wouldn’t want any of those disasters to look forward to.

She knew the worst part of the dream was simply playing-out her sense of being separated from Raine while things were so precarious. And yet the empty space felt so real, their relationship forced apart while it was still too new to have grown a resilience.

Will we be able to pick up the threads, when we finally find each other again?

She could remember Raine’s presence with the intensity of their first kiss, the powerful, athletic feel of his body when he held her in his arms, the sound of his voice, soft and vibrant as he whispered in her ear, the way his lips brushed against hers before exploring deeper... and yet now it felt as if even imagination and memory would fade, destroyed by the ever-present danger––

It’s just the snake-venom. It will pass. Get a grip while we’re still in danger.

She filled the water bottles at the stream and hurried back to make sure Kit was staying hydrated, wishing they had better med facilities with them, wishing they knew more about what had happened to him in the blast. He looked no better than he had the previous day, leaning against the front wheel of the jeep, his face drawn and pale under its deep tan. In spite of the way Fin had stepped in with her years of experience and steady judgement, Jac found the loss of Kit’s powerful leader-presence and fight-skills for their small team unnerving. A kind of living proof that the enemy could bring down even the strongest of them.

Fin had taken first and last night-watch and was standing motionless, bow in hand, outlined against the dawn light filtering through the tree canopy far above. She made one last check for any movement beyond the camp before walking over to Jac.

We need to move on soon. This logging road has been used recently otherwise it would be completely overgrown.

Jac checked Kit’s pulse.

All this driving on bad roads is making his condition much worse.

No choice. We have to keep moving. Parry may be able to delay the pursuit for a while, but he can’t call off the hunt completely without his paymasters discovering what he’s up to. It would help if we knew more about what else is happening, but we’re well out of transmission range of the city and we can’t risk trying to contact the Tarn. We could lead the enforcers right to it.

Bel pointed to the largest conifer on the edge of the clearing. Karim showed me a good technician’s trick last year. He got extra power by linking four handsets together and transmitting from as high up a tree as we could take them.

Kit almost managed a smile. Can’t be possible.

What?

Karim actually climbing a tree?

Bel raised an eyebrow. "Come off it, you know what Karim’s like. I climbed the tree, he issued tech instructions. She hesitated. Fin? you know what I’m asking."

Sure. A call to the city Resistance will get traced within minutes and only three people have fake-ID accounts because they’re so difficult to set up.

Are we worth burning a whole fake ID back-story?

Yes. More than you know. Fin offered her own unregistered handset. As soon as you’re done, we move out of here fast.

Not as fast as whoever patches us through in the city.

Bel collected handsets from Jac and Kit. She looked up into the dark pines with a frown of disquiet. They’re brittle. Not like our oaks at home. But it’ll be good to get out of this shadow and into the sun.

Jac held out her hand. I’m a lot smaller and lighter than you. I can go higher without breaking the thin branches at the top.

She listened carefully to Bel’s instructions, took the handsets and started to climb, moving easily and swiftly, becoming more cautious as she reached the fragile upper branches.

At last she was above the canopy in warm sunlight.

Relief. Light, warmth, maybe even hope that we’ll make it out of this hunt alive.

She connected the four black handsets and keyed Mirel’s fake-ID contact.

*

Mirel was walking toward the heart of the city, cautiously dodging patrols to reach her volunteer post at the only food bank to have survived the recent enforcer raids. She had managed to keep up appearances in spite of the danger, her long hair pinned back into a cascade of blonde flowing over her shoulders, a pastel contrast to the bright pink and white stripes of her dress.

She jumped visibly when her fake-ID handset buzzed. These things were expensive to burn and so were only activated in real emergencies. She pulled it out of her handbag with shaking hands.

Jac’s unregistered icon flashed onto the screen.

Mirel stopped dead in a moment of shock and confusion, frantically trying to remember what to do.

The trouble with incidents that hardly ever occur... there’s no chance to develop habits––

She pulled the device apart, glanced anxiously over her shoulder and hurried into the next city quadrant, her shiny pink high-heeled shoes clacking briskly on the dusty pavement.

*

Inside the security tracking station, an alarm beeped and two operators snapped alert in front of their screens as the signal trace suddenly appeared. Then disappeared. The senior officer of the pair started frantically hitting keys, trying to locate it again. Her colleague peered across, trying to compare the two screens.

What’s up? Can you see any more than I can?

Just one really weird signal came in from nowhere, connected, then went dead.

Did you see where? I missed it.

Didn’t catch it in time. No, it’s back, connected to something else in sector five. Illegal encrypted signal. Must be one of the terrorist groups. Give me some backup here.

*

Jac’s handset buzzed. She hooked her arm more firmly around the trunk as the tree swayed alarmingly in the wind. She guessed that Mirel must have found a hotspot, plugged in unregistered and keyed both her and the hive, linking the two strands together. The teenager’s voice crackled over the distance.

"Hive, it’s spot fifteen, kill it as soon as you’re done. Jac, you’re in. Good luck. And be quick!"

Jac heard Razz come online, his voice deep and clear above the static.

Hey, Jac. We heard you got out, but we didn’t know what happened to you after that. Glad you’re still alive.

We’re heading north, not sure if it’s best thing to do.

"Jac, it’s the only thing to do. They are really going after you big time. So you cannot try to get back to the Tarn––not for a while, you’ll lead them right to it."

Any other options?

Raine went back to the Warren with about eighty of the rangers, but don’t go there either––

His voice broke off and all Jac could hear was rustling and scuffling at the other end.

Razz? What’s up?

One of the hive-techs passing me a note. Hold on while I read it. Ah. The geeks here are telling me there’ll be a tracker somewhere in that jeep you stole. Could be why the military aren’t too worried about a late start following you.

Thanks Razz. We’ll head north to the Ice Islands. We can think about getting back to the Warren when things have gone a bit quieter. Maybe staz will give up hunting us after a while.

"Good luck, sister. Now, Mirel! Get out of there quick and don’t forget to relocate the trace. I’ll tell the techs to disconnect spot fifteen as a precaution so don’t try to use it again. Bring the dead bits of both handsets in here tomorrow for replacement. Now, run!"

*

The tracking station operator was staring at her screen.

Damn. It’s gone––but I got the ID for what it connected to the first time.

Her colleague was frantically scrolling through the log.

It connected to something else the second time. Now that illegal encryption has disappeared as well and it’s going to take days to find the blasted thing––

No, the first one’s back, but in the next sector.

That’s better. I’ve narrowed it to a few yards now. Get the ground team over there.

*

Mirel stood in the next city sector counting down on her watch. It seemed an eternity before the prescribed hundred seconds were up, telling her she could tear the silver handset apart, kill the trace and run for her life.

She promised herself she would never, ever, go out wearing high heels again.

*

Jac slithered back down the brittle branches and ran over to the jeep, wiping sticky pine resin off her fingers.

Razz says there’s a tracker in here somewhere.

She and Bel scrabbled around in the grimy under-corners of the military vehicle until they found it. Fin handed her a rag from the jeep with just a hint of mischievous smile as she gave the tree a brief glance. Jac tied the tracker into the rag and headed back up the scaly trunk. By the time she had scrambled down to the ground again the others had loaded their gear and turned the jeep, ready to leave.

Fin looked around the clearing, calculating angle, distance and terrain.

If staz approach from the southeast as is most likely, their line of sight will lead them off-road to the tracker through this lovely swampy bit of forest.

Jac laughed as she slid into the driver’s seat and eased the jeep down the rough track, heading for the main road.

*

Parry’s second in command was wedged in the passenger seat of the lead jeep, irritated by the jolting and bumping on the cracked road surface. Two transporters were following, each carrying ten heavily-armed personnel.

But it was not just the long drive and bad conditions that were causing his annoyance. Smith was wrestling with conflicting and distracting feelings of satisfaction and frustration. Satisfaction that he had managed to persuade his new boss to let him lead this next stage of the hunt––and frustration that he had only been allocated three vehicles and twenty grunts on the ground. With heavy automatics and grenades, but even so...

They had been following the tracker signal north for more than an hour since daylight and it made no sense when the icon suddenly veered off to their right. The jeep driver slammed to a stop, staring at the tussocks and rocks stretching uphill under the conifer forest. At Smith’s barked order to advance the grunt resignedly picked up his weapon and followed the rest of the heavily armed and shielded team on foot up the steep slope.

The ground was muddy, boggy and uneven and they had a fairly horrible, ankle-wrenching time slogging uphill through the mess, following the tracker signal.

When their scanners got a final fix on the thing far above their heads in the tree canopy, Smith discovered, fuming, that he was now several hours behind his quarry.

He requisitioned more vehicles as backup.

4

Jac checked the map tablet before turning onto the cracked remains of the north-south motorway, relieved to get off the overgrown twisting roads that crossed the hills of the northern forest from east to west. Now they would have to detour around all the wrecked bridges, but even so the going would be easier.

How much electric is left in this battery? Bel leaned across, trying to read the screen.

Jac glanced at the readout. Twenty minutes at most. We need to find a place where we can recharge.

Bel’s thoughts were drifting to longer term plans.

I wonder why Raine went back to the Warren? Because communications are better than at the Tarn? It’s risky now staz know where it is.

Instinctively, Jac knew. I know coms are a big part of it, but I think Raine just feels good when he’s there.

Bel nodded agreement. I think we all do. It feels safer when you know every inch of the area, even in the dark.

Fin interrupted. Turn right here. The house is a couple of miles further down the next dirt track.

Jac swung the jeep through a gap hacked in the barrier and steered it down the steep embankment to the remains of a narrow road.

Fin? How do you know about this place?

Fin checked the map tablet again. It’s part of the network the rangers use to take refugees north. I haven’t been here for a while, not since I was guiding a group of them to the Ice Islands.

Jac parked at the edge of the gravel drive. The house was set in a stand of maple and ash, a squat sandstone building with a few brick sheds around it. The trees seemed sparse and leafless for the time of year and the ground was bare except for occasional clumps of couch grass and fireweed.

Something’s different about this place. Wait here. Fin approached cautiously and knocked. The door opened and a broad-shouldered man in his sixties stepped into the yard.

Fin? We didn’t expect you to be here. He sounded surprised and curious.

Neither did I. Good to see you again, Hennek, but for your sake we’d best not stay long. Have you enough electric spare to give us a recharge?

Sure. Hennek glanced beyond the jeep, scanning the access track. Bring it closer to the door. How far behind you are they?

Don’t know. Fin waved the others to move while Hennek went to fetch the cable. He plugged in and stepped back for them to walk into the house.

You’ve thirty minutes to eat something while it fills. I already sent Sasha to keep a lookout at the junction in case they’re closer than you thought.

Thanks, Hennek. Fin dipped her head to the recharging jeep. You might want to drive up and down the track a few times to take out our marks. Military vehicles have distinctive treads.

Hennek’s grey eyebrows registered amusement.

"They are going to be annoyed with you if you’ve gone and pinched one of their jeeps. He led the way to the kitchen and started laying food on the table. No bread I’m afraid. Grain’s scarce since the last wet harvest. The other Outlanders don’t have spare and we can’t grow anything since the sanitizers hit us last September. Potato cakes with wild leaves and salted mutton?"

His broad face smiled a welcome and Jac wondered how long he had been running a safe house for city-refugees. She took the offered plate gratefully.

It’s a feast after pack rations for two days! How badly did staz get you?

Hennek seemed gloomily resigned to the devastation wrought on his home and livelihood.

Three years’ debt slavery to pay off the fine. We got careless. I thought they wouldn’t come so far north and we needed more food, what with the extra refugees coming through. I hoped we could grow again this spring but nothing germinated.

Jac paused between heavenly mouthfuls of fried potato.

Where I live, further south, it takes at least two years for the poison to leach out.

Hennek nodded. I asked Prasad in the next catchment and he reckoned it took him two years after his land was poisoned––I just thought we might be lucky. Our catchment people gave us insurance food and sapling chestnuts. We’ll be back in tree-crop in another five.

They got all your chestnut trees as well?

It wasn’t her own loss, but Jac felt the common bond the Outlanders shared, that deep connection with the land. Outrage for a whole swathe of life-force and precious food-supply destroyed and poisoned.

Hennek seemed to have found a way of coming to terms with the devastation. They killed everything except a small stand of trees they didn’t find on the other side of the hill. But, being realistic, it’s why we all keep a rotation of insurance saplings. There’s always someone going to need a replanting.

Same in our catchment as well. The conversation was drawing Jac’s thoughts back to her childhood home, the rhythm of the seasons, the quiet but precarious life she had lived before she met Raine and everything changed...

Maybe when I’m as old as Hennek, I’ll have the equanimity to be philosophical about it...

Fin looked around. Where’s Brennan?

Hennek looked sad and a little ashamed.

He said he would take on the debt. He didn’t think Sasha or I would survive three years of six/twelve. Now he’s indentured to a food-packing factory in the central agri-zone. Right out on the east side where they put most of the Outlanders they arrest.

How bad are conditions there?

Insolvency hostel. Twenty crammed into one room according to his last message.

How’s he coping?

I worried about him at first. He seemed so depressed. Now he says he’s met a nice girl and if they both survive the sentence he’ll bring her back here and raise a family. Hennek held out a scratched and dented handset. I know I should delete it but when it’s your only reminder of your only son, it’s hard to let go. They’re sharing a smuggled-in unregistered between five of them, so he can’t contact us very often.

He flipped his handset link to the wall screen and replayed the video message. A pale young man in grey coveralls was speaking hurriedly and quietly, all the while moving the heavy black performance monitor clamped to his wrist in an effort not to get spotted taking a break from work. Brennan must have found a blind spot in the surveillance from the rows of overhead cameras scanning the long grey food-packing shed.

Bel was watching in silence, transfixed by the images and Jac sensed that something in her friend’s past had connected painfully with the stark vision of debt-slavery. She drew the others’ attention away to give Bel some space, knowing that her recent bereavement and her worry over Kit’s injury had already put her under more stress than she needed right now.

No wonder people go under the wire and head for the Ice Islands rather than face three years in a place like that.

Fin glanced at Hennek, trying to give him reassurance.

Brennan will make it I’m sure, but most people aren’t as strong as he is. You say more people are coming north?

Hennek nodded. Double the number from last year. Thirty a month. With five other places they could use instead of us. They don’t have your skill at absconding with a staz jeep though. His eyebrows registered another amused twitch.

Fin gave him her best superior smile.

Hennek, I do believe you’re envious of our unusual acquisition. But the battery isn’t holding its charge well. Anywhere further on we can get another fill-up?

No. Too far north for registered holdings and the unregistered ones deliberately try to make their access roads difficult––and unfriendly. This recharge should get you to the jetstream barrier though. You’ll have to cross the barrier on foot anyhow with all the roads cut by freeze-thaw.

Jac felt the now-familiar pangs of anxiety as another unknown presented itself.

Hennek, what do I need to know about the barrier? My grandfather mentioned it but it seemed so far north I never took much interest in finding out more.

Hennek scrolled the wall screen archives to a vid-map showing the waves of the barrier marked as a series of blue and white broken lines curving across the north of the country.

The high winds of the jetstream used to form a tight band around the polar region, separating cold Arctic air from warmer southern air. When the ice caps started melting the jetstream became unstable. It developed deep polar vortex waves that kept one country in freezing polar air while places further round the same latitude were in a band of torrential rain. And further round still, it would be really warm. He keyed the animation as he spoke.

Even at the start of the chaos in the weather patterns it was beginning to shift, but of course no one took much notice at the time. It would get stuck for a whole season so you never knew if winter would be frozen solid, constant flooding, or warm and sticky.

Jac frowned. It doesn’t do that now. What happened?

Hennek waited for the animation to complete.

That’s where it is now. After a few years when the disrupted air masses made the arctic start warming rapidly, the jetstream finally got permanently stuck in one place and at least now it’s fairly predictable. The waves of it start a few hours from here. It’s a sudden change, with everything to the north frozen in winter.

Fin said, I don’t think the pack ice will have melted yet so travel shouldn’t be too difficult. Once the ice breaks up the fjords are impassable for a few weeks until there’s enough open water to travel by boat. If you can find one. Not many of the islanders––the settled refugees––have boats. Safer to walk across the ice once it forms.

Hennek scrolled to a detailed diagram of the barrier waves.

Be careful crossing the pass. The barrier also developed vertical waves that create sudden gusts of intense winds, especially over the hills.

Fin shrugged. At least it deters the military from sending planes or drones anywhere near it. Knocks them out of the sky. She checked the time and headed for the door. Jac, if you’ve had enough to eat, you can come with me for a few minutes.

Jac made no protest as she stood up to leave but her disappointment must have showed on her face. Hennek followed her out of the kitchen and pushed a hastily-constructed leaf wrap of spiced meat and fried potatoes into her hand with a conspiratorial grin.

Fin’s a brilliant teacher but she can be a bit autocratic.

So it’s not just me that’s noticed then? Thanks for the second helping, anyhow.

Make sure you’ve finished it by the time you get to wherever it is you’re going. Hennek closed the door behind her as she stepped outside. Fin called back without turning round.

You’ll be sorry you ate that before we’re done.

Jac suddenly remembered the waves of nausea washing through her in the snake venom exercise and hastily stuffed the offending wrap into her pocket, trying not to imagine what state it would be in by the time she got around to actually eating it.

Fin paused to scoop several handfuls of soil from the barren ground into a plastic bag and set off uphill again.

Jac followed, aligning her focus with her mentor’s searching as she had before but this time there was no clear image, only a tangled mass of white filaments that seemed to fill the space around her. They were thin and sickly at first, growing denser and stronger as she and Fin walked on further through the bare trees.

5

Jac watched as Fin stopped in a wide flat clearing and knelt on the bare ground, her hands pressed to the earth. Not knowing what else to do, she followed suit.

Fin, am I allowed to actually know what we’re doing this time?

No problem. We’re looking for mycorrhiza. I want to get away from the badly poisoned area around the house and find a spot with less defoliant residue. I need to find a place with enough healthy surviving strands for us to work on. This is good. If we clear this area first, it’s big enough that Hennek’s replanting next week should see them at least through next winter. Fin stood up, holding out the bag of soil she had collected.

Jac scrambled to her feet again. Okay, I’ve heard of mycoremediation. We tried it once when the next farm to ours got poison-sprayed a few years ago. It does help but it takes months to really get things back healthy again. How am I supposed to do it in ten minutes while the jeep fills?

Absorb the poison through your palms and then create a catalyst, just as you did yesterday. Then you connect with fungus filaments in the soil and strengthen the existing catalyst you find there. Fin emptied half the bag’s contents into Jac’s cupped hands, taking the rest herself. That’s why I took this from nearer the house where it got the heaviest dose.

Jac took a few deep breaths, preparing to go into lieth-focus, then looked more closely at the yellowish, poison-laced soil in her hands. She hesitated. The smell and feel of it was all wrong somehow.

Is this going to hurt?

Probably.

Deciding it might be better to just go for it rather than think about it too much, Jac squeezed the damp soil to increase contact with her palms and focused on the sour, acrid flow of defoliant molecules leaching into her skin. It was not as painful as the snake venom but there was something rank and unnatural about it. Nausea filled her whole body as if even her limbs were trying to reject the stuff. She wanted desperately to pull away but somehow Fin’s dominating presence prevented her.

To her surprise the transmutation came suddenly, as if the memory of the process was already a habit at a molecular level, even with the differences in the chemistry she was absorbing. It was as if one vaccine had partly educated her immune system to deal with other threats. She sensed an echoing frisson of surprise from Fin, alerting her to follow her mentor’s lead and throw away the soil in her hands.

Fin caught her arm as the movement threw her off balance, helping her kneel on the ground again without falling, issuing instructions as she did so.

Now connect with the mycorrhiza in the soil and strengthen the catalyst they already have.

Jac clawed her fingers into the crumbling soil, sensing the connection when her hands met the white tangle of mycorrhizal strands. This time the catalyst they contained seemed familiar, her body-awareness reaching out and noticing the subtly different formula to the one she had just created.

She closed her eyes and tried to relax enough to let her own antidote spread outward. It was difficult at first but once the movement started she found her awareness flowing into the millions of tiny white filaments running through the earth.

This was a forest voice she had never heard before and it fascinated her, the endless branches dividing outward and then reconnecting, joining every tree root to every other... and soon there would be trillions more roots as green plants started to grow again and the white filaments multiplied. There was so much knowledge here, so much awareness of the whole forest network. Jac’s inquisitive mind flowed into it, longing to follow every interconnecting strand until she had absorbed every drop of understanding...

It took her a few moments to notice that Fin was gripping her arms, pulling her hands out of the soil, wrenching her awareness from dark tunnels under the tree roots, already deep into the next forested valley. She became aware of how dizzy and weak she felt, and so distracted that she had not even heard Fin’s warnings.

Jac! Enough! Don’t try too much too soon.

Jac reluctantly allowed herself to be drawn back from that alluring darkness, alive with new knowledge and the promise of more to come. As she returned to base awareness she suddenly noticed how exhausted she was, stretching out on her back on the naked earth, fighting down the waves of nausea. She stared at the sky beyond the bare branches above, hoping it would settle and the earth would stop feeling like it was heaving and swaying beneath her limbs.

That’s it? She was glad Hennek’s food-wrap was still in her pocket and not in her stomach.

Fin was watching her anxiously.

I thought I’d lost you for a moment there. Yes. That’s it. The mycorrhizal strands form a continuous underground web that connects the roots of the whole forest. The new information will spread fast to all the other areas that have been damaged.

Yes, I know. Jac spoke dreamily, not quite fully back in the present or on the surface. "I was in there. It went on forever and it knew everything."

We’ll follow that insight next time, when you’ve had a chance to recover and the ground isn’t poisoned. Fin reached out a hand and pulled Jac to her feet, slipping an arm around her shoulders to support her as they walked back down the hill.

Jac’s mind was racing, thinking back to the toxic, spray-blighted land near her home and the time and energy the Outlanders spent trying to clean it.

If only I’d known about that before! We could have fixed so much of it... Why didn’t my grandfather tell me about it? He must have known.

Fin spoke slowly, as if she was still working out the answer to that one. I only know four people who can do it and it usually needs all of us working together to make that kind of instant transformation. Bel is just starting to learn but she’s in no shape for additional nightmares right now, so soon after Greg being killed. Fin stopped for a moment, letting Jac lean against a tree and catch her breath. Do you understand what I’m telling you?

Get ready for more nightmares?

Apart from that. It means you’ve only just learned this and you already have the power of three adepts. Your grandfather’s training must have been very intensive after you went to live with him?

I suppose, yes... for me it was just part of being a little kid living out in the wilds. We used to wander through the forest for hours collecting plants and then we’d sit together in the sun, drawing pictures of each one. Then we’d make up all kinds of kid-stories about the elves we created in our imagination, drawing pictures of them as well. How they lived, what they did, what their powers were. I later understood it was a way of representing the life-force of the plant. And gradually the forest shifted into bright shapes and detail for me, alive with meaning and relationships... I loved every minute of it. Jac smiled at the memory of her childhood home and found it had wiped away the nausea.

When Fin spoke again she sounded pensive.

Children are so open to these subtle communication channels––until they have it trained out of them to make them compliant components of the workforce. Imagine if all children could have an education like yours? Think of what we could achieve with a synthesis of nano-tech added to the awareness-skills of indigenous shamans?

Jac didn’t reply but her hand went instinctively to the scar on her scalp where Fin had taken out her neural implant, on her first day at the Warren. Although the thing had helped her initially, inducing an instant heightened awareness of the intriguing signals from the forest, it had eventually started holding her back. Her truthseer insights had become far more vivid since she had been free of it.

They walked down to the farmhouse in silence. Back in the kitchen Fin was her usual understated self once more as she stood at the sink washing the last of the contaminated soil off her hands.

Hennek, I think you could replant the south clearing next week, and then work your way outward from there.

He stared at her, shocked. Replant? Already? But there’s only two of you––

Fin shrugged and to Jac’s great embarrassment, dipped her head in her direction. Hennek enveloped Jac in an emotional hug, tears pouring down his lined face, and then insisted on giving Fin the same treatment before she could escape.

Sasha appeared in the doorway, breathless.

Quickly! I saw them coming over the hill!

She scurried to the table, hastily removing evidence of several people eating in their kitchen. Fin extricated herself from Hennek’s grip as the others grabbed their gear and ran outside.

Hennek followed them across the yard and unplugged the extension cable.

Use the shortcut on the dirt track. Don’t go back the way you came in. I’ll go and wipe your marks.

He ran to his own jeep and thrust it into action, slewing it round on the soft mud and pushing it hard up the track toward the road. Dirt and dead leaves spewed out behind as the wheels chewed up the surface, erasing the marks left by the stolen jeep.

Bel drove north on mud and brambles for several minutes before turning onto the remains of a narrow road.

Fin, do you know where we are now?

Turn right and keep going straight.

Another storm was moving in from the west and the sky darkened. Bel slowed suddenly, pointing to lights ahead.

Staz must have split up and covered all the roads in the area. We’re trapped.

Fin checked the surviving side mirror.

In which case they’ll be behind us as well, so there’s no point in going back. At least if they’ve split up there shouldn’t be more than ten of them in one unit. Keep an eye out for a good place to stop.

Here? Bel swung the jeep over to the side to drop one of the front wheels into the remains of the ditch with the body of the vehicle slewed sideways across the road.

Fin scrambled out and examined the result.

Good. Looks like an accident rather than a deliberate roadblock. And we’re back under broadleaf. Plenty of undergrowth, good cover.

Jac followed the others as they ran for the concealment of the dripping trees. She looked back in time to see the security transporter squeal around the last corner and slither to a halt, only just avoiding a crash. Smith and nine armed guards clambered out to surround the stranded jeep at gunpoint. Discovering it to be empty, Smith ordered them to follow the trail of broken undergrowth into the forest.

The storm broke in a rumble of thunder, bringing a deluge of heavy droplets hissing through the leaves. Fin kept watch while Bel helped Kit into position, urging him to stay out of sight behind a broad tree trunk. He was trying to brush aside her concerns, shifting painfully from one foot to the other, trying to work out how to draw a bow in spite of his damaged ribs.

Fin took the weapon from him.

Kit! Be realistic. All you’re likely to achieve is putting a rib through a lung. Or worse. She shared his arrows between herself and Bel as the first bullets started whining past them.

She pushed Jac in front of him.

"Now young lady, I understand you learned something about protecting your patient, so best get on with it before these killers get any closer."

Jac felt the usual clutch of alarm at the thought of a fight, the years of training with her grandfather bringing her habit of non-violence to the surface once more.

Fin, I’m used to hunting rabbits for food, but people... it feels different––

I’ve seen what a crack shot you can be with that thing when you put your mind to it. So dope your arrows. Then you won’t need a lethal hit. Sometimes it takes a minute or two to knock them out so bear in mind they might just kill you both while you’re hanging around counting seconds.

Fin didn’t wait for an answer before ordering Bel to mirror her on the right, and then moved out left to circle the advancing enforcers.

Jac watched her dodging and weaving between the wet trees like a shadow until she vanished in the uncertain light. She made an effort to control her breathing. It was the first time she had tried to use the instructions Razz had given her in a real situation and it felt very different from those training sessions in the city.

Keep your focus on Kit’s need for medic attention.

More shots snicked through the dripping leaves. Jac released her doped arrow, pinning Smith’s hand to a tree as he raised it to signal his men to spread out.

Well done. That caused a bit of confusion. Kit was standing motionless beside her and she could sense him trying to reassure and calm her. She loosed another arrow and the lead gunman fell with it spliced through his leg.

That was sheer luck. You know you’re aiming not to kill.

The guard was on the ground but still firing at them while the drug seemed to take an age to kick in. There were two more behind him, still moving forward. Jac’s next shot missed altogether and now the line of guns was approaching too fast for her to stop them.

Through the confusion of noise and bullets and panic she was aware of Kit drawing his knife and moving out from behind her. Then it was a blur of rain and movement as he appeared next to one of the enforcers and they were both struggling on the ground. Kit’s blade flashed once in the water-soaked shadows and the heaving body went limp on the wet grass.

Somewhere in the tangle of it all Fin and Bel must have been picking off the opposition from their hidden positions because the last two attackers were suddenly without backup. A moment later they both fell to Bel’s blue-fletched arrows and Fin moved silently out from behind the wet undergrowth to disarm the man Jac had brought down.

Kit was on his knees gasping in pain. Jac ran over to him.

Oh Kit, I’m sorry. I wasn’t fully focused. Let me see what happened. She knelt beside him, fearing the telltale rattle of a punctured lung. The reality of her failure hit her as she looked up to see Fin standing over her, a clutch of retrieved arrows in her hand.

Fin, I––

We haven’t much time. The other patrols will be here soon. Finish checking on Kit when we’re back in the jeep. Fin turned away, briskly collecting the last of the captured weapons before heading back towards the road.

Jac helped Kit slowly back to the jeep. Bel disabled the transporter and its radio with a borrowed assault rifle, then took the wheel and drove the jeep north.

The storm clouds slowly cleared under a watery afternoon sun.

6

Colonel Michael Parry stretched long legs behind the oversized desk in the office he had worked so hard to claim for himself. And yet... his restless temperament and rigorously trained body itched to be back on active service instead of stuck behind a pile of reports trying to figure out how to keep the city secure and hold on to his job at the same time.

His feeling of satisfaction at finally managing to replace Burton as security section chief had not lasted long––and not only because he had felt obliged to help four outlawed rangers escape