BLUEMANTLE by Karen Langston (if you give a mouse a cookie read aloud TXT) 📕

his voice. He suppressed the frustration. “Sorry. I mean, surely it matters.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s got to be more than a feeling to do what they’re doing. Breaking the law. Living the life of fugitives. Weren’t they at Rideout? Aren’t they the cause of all this?” He waved his arm to gesture but realised the spatial context was wrong. “Deaf Squad. The Allears. The raids, for crow’s sake.”

Ursel sighed.

“What?” he said.

“When we were there, I saw it in you. Even afterwards, back here. Before you left.”

“What?”

“You didn’t understand. But you didn’t need to. And that’s because you felt it. You knew it regardless.”

–

As Chase rode the Elevated, the clatter of steel on steel drowned out the white noise in his head. His eyes itched, unable to focus on the murals that now dominated the view, their paint still wet. His nerves were a clenched fist, ready to strike.

The frustration he felt when he had spoken to Ursel the previous day still rumbled within him. Time was not helping. Now he was on his way to see Naylor – the first meet up since he’d collapsed on his doorstep following the raid. The prospect knotted his stomach.

When they were last together, Naylor had been angry with him. Now, having regained the headspace of sobriety, Chase appreciated how his claims of euphoria must have sounded. With the sensation long since absent, he could no longer recall the feeling, let alone argue its merit. Still, whatever anger he had provoked, he knew their next conversation would be no more palatable for his friend.

“Come in,” said Naylor, holding open the door to his flat. “I’ve just boiled some water. Tea?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Naylor disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Chase to loiter in the living room. He instinctively approached the window, always captivated by its bird’s-eye view of the city. Now the view was lost, drowned by a sea of dense orange fog. The only things visible were the tops of the taller concrete structures, emerging through the dust cloud like boulders in a mist-covered bog. He turned away and caught sight of Naylor’s daughter, peering around her bedroom door before silently closing it.

Naylor returned with the tea, handing a glass to Chase. They both sat at the table with their backs to the buried view.

“What’s wrong with Clo?” said Chase.

“She had the Test yesterday.”

“Ah…”

“It’s the second year she’s had to retake it. She’s the only one in her group of friends who has to.”

“That’s got to feel tough for her.”

“She keeps failing but doesn’t know why. I hope she passes this time, for her sake. It’s knocking her confidence. I hate to see her so low. She’s due to spend the weekend with her mum but she’s refusing to go. Not that I blame her, but I can hardly say that.”

“I thought they got on.”

“What can I say? She’s growing up fast and becoming a good judge of character.” They both smiled, faces relaxed – ice broken. “So, how’s your shoulder?”

“Healing nicely, thanks.”

“That’s good.” He hesitated, unsure whether or not to ask, deciding he couldn’t not. “Any news?”

“Still no sign. Every day after work I’ve searched a different area of the city. She’s not even contacted the furnaces, let alone shown up for work.”

Naylor’s expression softened. “I’m sorry, Chase.”

“I’ve decided. I think Ursel’s right.”

Naylor sighed.

“What?” said Chase. “I’ve looked everywhere. And Ursel’s convinced.”

“I know, I know. I hear what you’re saying. I just wish there was another explanation.”

“Tell me about it.” Chase sipped his tea, fighting the urge to go on the defensive. He needed Naylor on side.

“I know it’s farfetched, but maybe she’s left Wydeye?”

“I’ve looked into that. The furnaces still hold her papers. She can’t go anywhere without them.”

“Dare I say it, have you asked at the Exchange?”

“No,” he replied – a little too quickly, he thought. Flushing, he cleared his throat and added, “I’ve nothing to trade. And besides, if she’s involved in the Scene, I don’t want to raise her profile with the Authority.”

“But if they’ve got her in custody, at least you’d know. Can’t you just ask them that?”

“They would never tell me. The Wall of the Missing exists for a reason. You know that.”

“I take it you’ve at least posted her photo there?”

“No.”

“What? You’re joking, right? People look at the Wall. Someone must know something. I can’t believe you didn’t do that right from the start.”

“Look, it’s too risky, okay?” He took a deep breath and tightened his lips. Then he said, “I can’t get my head past those copies of Bluemantle hidden in her rooms. And with everything Ursel’s said, it’s fairly clear Wella’s involved with the Scene. That being the case, I don’t want to attract any more attention to her than I have to. It’s bad enough I’ve had to ask questions at her work. They’re ruthless at the furnaces. They’ve probably reported her for absence. I know they’ve terminated her worker’s contract.”

Naylor straightened his back and looked squarely at Chase. “It sounds like you’ve got a plan in mind.”

“I’m going back to look for her. Underground. Ursel says that I have to wait until there’s another show; I can’t just search for her there. So, whenever that is, I’m going to attend.”

“What? Why?”

“Because it’s the only way.”

“But after last time, the raid on the city—”

“I have to take the risk.”

“No, you don’t. Ursel goes anyway. Get her to take a message to Wella. If Wella doesn’t come back with her, then that’s her choice. Why risk your life while there are options?”

“I can’t rely on Ursel. I need to see Wella for myself.”

“Why? You think you’re the only one who can persuade her? Come on, Chase. You guys aren’t even close. If she’s already taken the risk and chosen that path, she’s not going to change her mind and come back just because big brother tells her to.” He cocked his head and squinted. “Or perhaps you need to see a show again. Is that it? They’ve got you hooked already?”

“No.”

“What was it you said? Captivating, I