Roman had never been to the wind farms himself. As far as he was aware, the only people who ever had were the captives and the guards that watched over them. Though he had watched those giant wind turbines on the horizon, endlessly turning. It was hard to believe such colossal blades could move from the wind alone. He often wondered whether Juliette was using Adrenalite labour to move them. What else were the prisoners doing?
Juliette shook her head. “You know it’s not that simple.”
“Just hire workers. You know our economy needs more jobs.”
“Despite what you believe, I’m not made of money. Besides, men working alongside captured Adrenalites? Who in their right mind would do it?”
“Then don’t use Adrenalites.”
“And what would you have me do with them?”
“Treat them the same way they would treat us,” Roman said. “Kill them.”
It would be a mercy. They were monsters, what did they have left to live for? Besides, it was for the good of the people of Legacy. Maintaining a prison for Adrenalites took precious money away from the rest of Legacy. It was insane to waste so much resource — both militia and food — on beasts who killed people for no reason other than their own violent madness.
“Really, Roman? And you call them the monsters.”
“The Ancients used capital punishment.”
“On themselves,” Juliette said. “But regardless, this argument is going nowhere. Let’s get back to Candle.”
“You haven’t told me anything yet.”
“Candle’s code is EX89. He… well, he escaped the wind farms.”
Roman frowned. “No one escapes the wind farms.”
“No one until him.”
“Fuck! I’ve brought you dozens of rogue Adrenalites, all because I believed you could keep them contained. But you can’t even do that! If one has escaped, what’s to stop more from following suit?” Roman began to pace the room, wishing he had something to punch. “How the hell did this happen?”
“He had inside help.”
“Who would—”
“There’s a man called Ashton Spencer.”
“Who the hell is he?”
“He worked for the Ministry until he vanished a month ago, the same day EX89 escaped. Roman, calm down.”
“I will not be calm.” Roman decided that punching the wall was worth the pain. And, despite the bleeding knuckles, he did feel better for it. “I want to know why a ministry member would free an Adrenalite?”
“We’re not sure.”
“Then how do you know it was him?”
“When Spencer suspiciously vanished, we sent a squad of militia to his home. Six men. They were all killed. Do you really think an ordinary human did that on his own?”
Roman grabbed a piece of paper from the desk and used it to wipe the blood off his knuckles. “So, Candle killed Ashton, then killed the militia who came for him.”
Juliette laughed. There was no humour in it. “Your prejudice against the Adrenalites makes you such an idiot sometimes. Why would Candle kill Ashton? They’re working together.”
“A human and an Adrenalite as a team? That’s bullshit.”
“Last I heard, you had an Adrenalite in your team.”
“That’s different. That’s…” Roman trailed off, pausing mid-step. Unfortunately, she had a point. “How can you be sure they’re together?”
“There was a message left at the scene,” Juliette said. “A written letter.”
The implication was clear. Literacy was rare in Legacy since only ministry officials had a reason to learn. A literate Adrenalite was unheard of.
“What did it say?” Roman asked, although he suspected he knew the answer.
“Death to the Captain. Death to the Ministries. Death before defeat.”
Roman sat, his anger fading as quickly as it had come. Now it was replaced with fear. Never before had an Adrenalite shown a sense of purpose like this. Now that one had, what would he be capable of? Plus, the security of the wind farms was compromised. “We really are fucked, aren’t we?”
“You wanted information. This is it.”
Without his anger to distract him, Roman was agonizingly aware of how much his body hurt. His arms still throbbed from his stunts last night. It felt like his joints were held together by rusty nails. But he ignored the discomfort. “I can do this,” he said, more to himself than to Juliette. “But I’m not bringing him in alive. If he’s escaped the farms once, I won’t risk it happening again. I’m going to kill him. Both him and Spencer.”
“No. I need Ashton Spencer alive.”
“Why?”
Juliette opened her mouth as if to speak, then quickly closed it again.
So that’s what she’s hiding. “Why the hell should I let him live?” Roman asked again.
“Spencer worked as…” Juliette paused, obviously struggling for words, “… a researcher for the ministry.”
“And what does the Security Ministry need a researcher for?”
“He was studying Adrenalites.”
“And you kept this from me because… ?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Roman. He was experimenting on them. Surely you understand why we don’t advertise that fact?”
Roman felt sickened by the idea of Adrenalite experimentation. He had a mental image of Sparks tied to a table, needles sticking into him. He didn’t like the kid, but that thought made him want to puke.
“Anyway,” Juliette continued, “Spencer was working on a serum for permanently deactivating Adrenalites.”
Roman sat up in the chair. “That’s possible?”
“We were close to a breakthrough.”
“Holy shit! With that, you could—”
“We could supply it to gangs disguised as defoxican, and when they inject their pit fighters with it: suddenly no more Adrenalite. We could inject every new Adrenalite we find. It would change everything, solving the Adrenalite problem once and for all.” Juliette laughed at Roman. “You mock me, Roman, saying that I’m doing nothing to stop this city from falling into chaos. But what good has your heroics truly done? You’re not making a meaningful difference. But this would.”
“This is—” Roman’s excitement died in his throat. “But you need Spencer? You can’t do it without him?”
Juliette shook her head. “He was the lead researcher.”
Roman frowned. Something is wrong here. If anything, this gives Spencer less reason to betray the ministry. “If you’re lying to me about this, then it won’t matter how large an army you have, or how far you run. I will track you down. And I will fucking enjoy killing you.”
“Roman.” Juliette leaned forward, folded her arms on the desk, and looked him square in the eye. “I’m not your enemy. But if I was, you’d be dead for making that threat. Now get the hell out of my office.”
Roman stood, went to the whiteboard, picked up the chalk and wrote: I am a coward. “Just in case you forget who you are.”
He walked out.
He had a secret to uncover, a man to capture, and an Adrenalite to kill.
04
That evening, Roman and his team sat in their regular booth at the Mutt’s Tail. Griff, the barman, shuffled between tables, keeping the alcohol flowing freely. One lonely, dim light did little to pierce the cloud of rado-weed smoke swirling in the air — so thick the punters in the opposite corner appeared to Roman as little more than dark smudges. Griff liked keeping the windows closed, said the smoke gave people privacy. Roman liked privacy.