Stray by Rachael Craw Page A

lock?”
    Tesla doesn’t answer, caught in Miriam’s glare.
    “For ninety-eight per cent of Assets that is decided the moment they Spark,” Felicity says to Miriam, impatience in her voice. She looks to me. “It takes around five active years for a third-generation Shield to reach full maturity and then it sets.”
    “Five years?” I say. “If you’re normal?”
    Felicity sighs. “There are many variables, but few fully matured Shields can Harvest at will. It is the rarest gift.”
    Gift. That word again, absurd and provoking.
    “We are not unsympathetic,” she says, though there isn’t much sign of sympathy. “We understand that the transition experience is a traumatising one. Denial, anger, rejection, these are common feelings for the newly Sparked Asset, the need to feel like you have options. During Orientation you will process these feelings and come to appreciate the benefits of your gift and the prospect of a productive and satisfying life. This is why the Affinity Project exists, to assist you in the journey.” It’s like she’s taken the lines from a propaganda manual.
    No one speaks. I can feel Miriam almost vibrating next to me. Tesla’s piercing gaze feels charged. “Your niece is in the system now. If there is a counter-signal match, that person will be found.”
    She barely nods.
    “Mr Nelson, we are ready for you.” Tesla speaks into the air, spurring my pulse into frenetic tripping. I glance at the black half-moon disc and brace for pain, but Tesla goes to the back door and waits. “The tracker you will receive is similar to the ones your aunt and Mr Gallagher are carrying, but it is specifically designed for the purposes of collecting data.”
    We hear the beeping of the van reversing from the street, down the slope of the drive beside the house. I wonder if they will need to bring in much equipment and whether it will hurt badly and whether I will disgrace myself by crying out. I wonder if my face is as drained of blood as it feels.
    “Also, we will need to Neutralise you,” he says, growing more stern. “We have no record of unplanned pregnancy in your file, which is something. While almost all Strays are male, only female Shields can pass the Stray mutation on to their offspring. Now that you have transitioned, intercourse and reproduction become inevitable and dangerous.” He glowers at the back of Jamie’s head. “It is a temporary measure that will stop your cycle, but it will prevent complications.”
    I imagine my face changing colour from white to red like Christmas lights. I’m too grossed out to rejoice at the thought of no more weekly power-periods. Can Tesla tell there’s something going on between Jamie and me? I wonder exactly how “gynaecological” the procedure will be? I picture myself lying on the dining table with Benjamin poised between my knees, armed with a lethal metallic instrument, the guy called Davis scowling over his glowing baton and Jamie murdering them both.
    “Neither procedure is particularly invasive,” Tesla says, again hitting on my concerns. “For the sake of expedience a local anaesthetic will manage the pain so we can continue our debriefing.”
    Van doors open and close outside. Heavy boots grind gravel. Low voices rumble. Benjamin leads the way up the back steps and Tesla opens the door for him, Davis following behind. Chill air gusts into the room and their signals hit me. I have to concentrate to pull back from the bandwidth, but it’s easier this time. I shudder at the sight of the black case Benjamin carries. It seems heavy, though there is no sign of strain in his hold. He slides it onto the counter behind Tesla and taps a key code. A click and the lid rises.
    “Tell us about your Spark,” Tesla says, returning to the table. Felicity slips back into her seat and Tesla resumes his place, opening a new app on his phone to record me. “When did it happen?”
    I have to tear my gaze away from the screen. “Um … end of