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security cams in the south-east part of the Chandler N-Suit Research Base focus on her less than ideal piloting.

Maybe if Bellefeuille wasn’t so useless herself, coasting happily on family favours all her life, she would have realised that standard police-issue aircars like the XST were by nature quiet, short-distance transports that required virtually no skill to pilot. Maybe if she had ever actually studied the how and the why behind the technology the Elite were spoilt with, she would have realised that making an XST sound like its primitive ancestor, known in the 20th century as a helicopter, while not crashing the bloody thing, was a feat very few could manage. But it never even occurred to Bellefeuille to exercise her brain in such a fashion.

Ingram had no doubt that the security cams had measured the decibel levels and scanned her XST’s registration number. She knew the consequences. The moment the automated system reported back to Wagner, she would be in deep trouble, but at least it had kept the cams occupied at the right moment, just as she had intended.

CHAPTER 5

Chandler N-Suit Research Base

North-West Lyon

Afro-European Alliance

Monday 20 April 2725

DAY 1

Eloise saw the lights of the aircar disappear, hearing no sound through the thick, reinforced nano-crystal. It was now raining and the heavy grey clouds explained why it was so dark. Inside her home, where the VR labs and playrooms were, there were no windows. Light, humidity, temperature and other environmental factors were tightly controlled by Tilly and adjusted in milliseconds at Eloise’s command.

Watching the rain with disgust, Eloise shivered with disapproval. Why would anyone subject themselves to such randomness?

‘Tilly, mark seven in the morning in the diary. Make sure to remind me two hours in advance. Have Jeff prepare a meal for six,’ she ordered. Eager to get back to work, her mind already contemplating water viscosity, she made her way into the long passage connecting the two buildings and froze in surprise.

The lights did not switch on instantly. And Tilly did not reply.

‘Dammit, Tilly!’ She felt more irritated than scared, but that quickly started to shift.

Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember hearing from Tilly since Bellefeuille arrived. Nor had Jeff brought the damn drinks she’d told him to. She was so focused on trying to breathe and on Bellefeuille’s insane idea of flying out to the 4th that she didn’t even realise Tilly wasn’t there.

‘Tilly!’ she half screamed, paralysed into immobility in the dark passage. With the door to the reception closed behind her, not even the tiniest sliver of miserable, rainy daylight was coming through. It was pitch black, and the nano-patch tingled feebly as if the chemicals were running out.

Suddenly, her body sprang to action. She set off at a run along the long corridor, one hand touching a wall for guidance, the other stretched out in front of her face. She came to a rather violent stop, her outstretched palm finding the opposite wall, elbow bending, face smashing into the back of her hand. Pain exploded in her nose, but she didn’t even feel it properly through the sheer panic and helplessness.

Turning to her right, she pushed into the door. The smooth opening mechanism that normally responded to her gentlest touch was gone. Leaning on her shoulder hard, she pressed. More darkness in front of her.

No, not darkness. The emergency lights were on, giving off a strange blue hue. Shades and shadows everywhere. Somehow, she knew she wasn’t alone. Her ribcage tightened as she gasped for breath. Her heart was thumping so hard she couldn’t hear anything. She needed proper light but couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t even remember if there were any manual controls to switch the lights on. And then a shadow moved, the beam of a bright flashlight blinding her.

‘I mean you no harm,’ a voice said lamely, redirecting the beam of light to one side when Eloise covered her eyes with a hand. ‘I just want to talk. I didn’t—’

Eloise was upon him. She couldn’t think through the terror, but her fit and trim body responded instinctively. The training from all the martial arts VRPs she had designed and played repeatedly pushed her into action. On top of that, the sheer, blinding panic she felt made her unpredictable.

The intruder stumbled. Years of relentless training made him confident in his own hand-to-hand combat skills, but he also needed Eloise undamaged. He couldn’t just knock her out. A concern she clearly didn’t share for him, as her hands lashed out at his face, ready to claw his eyes out in a manic frenzy.

The flashlight tumbled to the floor and flicked off, surrounding them again in the eerie blue tinge. He threw his body into her, toppling her to the ground, where his greater mass would serve him well. He had to pin her down before she hurt him, or worse, herself.

‘Stop!’ he yelled. ‘Calm down!’

A wild growl answered him just before she reached forward and bit his arm hard, her training reduced to wild survival instincts. He swore and his grip loosened for just a fraction of a second. He felt her legs writhe under him, trying to kick and nearly throwing him off. Regaining control, he squeezed her wrists harder and jammed her arms along her body and under his legs. His whole body was pinning her down now, bruising her and making breathing difficult, but Eloise wouldn’t stop struggling.

She was in a frenzy. She didn’t know why. She couldn’t understand what was going on. She trained and exercised daily, but the panic left her disorganised and frantic. She couldn’t understand it. She couldn’t understand the panic. She liked to spar. This was horror.

‘Calm down,’ the voice ordered almost softly. ‘I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk.’

She growled again, and her body jerked with increased violence. Then she coughed, choking on what was probably her own saliva.

‘Calm down!’ Louder—loud enough to get through to her despite the crazy panic.

Calm down? No, just

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