Elite by Kristen Young

Author:Kristen Young
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Christian, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9781621841920
Publisher: Enclave Escape
Published: 2021-04-27T00:00:00+00:00

Crucible’s training regimen soon becomes a habit. Every day I spend hours upon hours finding people using the Watcher sphere. I work until my hand cramps and my ankles ache. Crucible won’t allow any rest.

Snapping out of another intellectual party where I’ve flagged four philosophers Crucible detested, he sends me to watch a street scene. Although I’m sure he wants me to follow the well-dressed group emerging from a designer store, a man in dirty linen clothes draws my attention.

Unseen by the Lovers around him, the man runs through the streets as if being pursued. Glancing over his shoulder, he bumps into a Lover’s shoulder. The Lover overbalances. Their glass goggles fly from their heads and the Lover crashes to the ground in a white linen heap. But the man in dirty clothes runs off, his arms in a rough gesture of apology.

The injured Lover shouts. But the crowd of Lovers, still so caught up in their own AR goggle world, barely register anything. A few Lovers hear the sound and stare around them. But the AR is too powerful, so nobody sees anything. The injured Lover lurches into traffic to retrieve his glass visor. Meanwhile, the figure in grubby clothing disappears down an alley.

I turn away, pushing the vision back to the designer store.

“Follow him,” Crucible commands, voice dripping with displeasure.

“Yes, Executive Lover.”

I shift the controls and seek out the grubby figure again. The software connects the separate cameras seamlessly, so it feels as if I’m in a drone, flying behind the man as he flees toward a dead end. Concrete walls hem him in between trash piles and broken furniture. Just when I’m about to lock on to his figure with the red circle, he crouches and slides down into a large stormwater drain, disappearing from sight.

“Executive Lover?” I call, knowing he is watching me from outside the room.

“Yes, Apprentice?” Crucible’s voice is rife with irritation.

“This suspect has disappeared into the drain system.”

“Send in the biological measures,” he commands. Confused, I look around the sphere in front of me for some kind of clue as to what he’s talking about. He must be watching me because he makes a frustrated clucking noise.

“Code 50-34,” he informs me impatiently. “Call it in with the coordinates, and the Hall will send in a tracker drone.”

“Oh,” I say, feeling stupid. I follow Crucible’s instructions and wait to hear from the Hall’s communication channel. I have to ask. “Sir, why have I never heard of it before?”

“They’re only for subterranean work. Strictly speaking, they were decommissioned a few years ago. But I’ve sent a message explaining that your request is at my authority. You won’t have any problems.”

Sure enough, after a delay which stretches out for minutes, a terse reply comes back through the audio channel. “Executive request granted. Biological measure dispatched.”

I spend a few more minutes watching the entrance to the drain but see nothing.

Crucible, again, is closely observing me. “You won’t see anything from there,” he mocks. “When the drone is finished with him, there won’t be much left to embrace.

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