Free Rogue by Mark Walden Page A

it.’
    ‘Curious,’ Creed said, frowning. ‘Can we remove it?’
    ‘Not without killing the boy,’ the technician replied. ‘It’s fully integrated with his brain tissue, almost as if it’s a natural structure. That’s probably why we missed it during our earlier scans. If it is artificial, then someone has gone to extraordinary lengths to conceal it and to ensure that it cannot be tampered with.’
    ‘Overlay the scan of Animus penetration of the brain tissue,’ Creed said, and the technician typed a series of commands that displayed a new layer on top of the original image. This new layer displayed a veiny black web that seemed to have penetrated every cubic centimetre of the brain tissue. Everywhere except for one small area – the exact same area that the mysterious object occupied.
    ‘There,’ Creed said. ‘See how the Animus has penetrated completely throughout the cerebellum but has avoided that area.’
    ‘Why would that be?’ the technician asked, sounding confused.
    ‘Your guess is as good as mine,’ Creed replied. ‘Let’s try something,’ he went on. ‘Activate real-time scanning and give the Animus explicit instructions to attempt integration with the object.’
    ‘It’ll take a couple of minutes,’ the technician said as she started to tap away at her keyboard.
    ‘There,’ she said eventually. ‘Bringing up real-time scan.’
    The display changed to a zoomed-in view of the Animus penetration around the object as several of the tendrils of the black fluid crept towards it. Creed’s eyes widened as just a moment later he saw the Animus shrink away from the object. It was impossible to say whether it had been driven back or had recoiled voluntarily, but it was at least clear why this tiny part of Malpense’s brain had remained free of Animus. Unfortunately it left them no closer to understanding what the object was. That would require an invasive, almost certainly fatal surgical procedure and Creed knew there was no way that Trent would authorise that.
    ‘Neural activity is increasing,’ a technician on the other side of the lab reported. ‘I think he’s waking up.’
    ‘Excellent,’ Dr Creed replied. He did not know if their attempt to force the Animus to integrate with the mysterious object was related to Malpense’s sudden revival, but it seemed like rather a coincidence.
    The doctor walked over to the bed in the centre of the lab and looked down at the boy as his Animus-darkened eyes flickered open.
    ‘Welcome back, Mr Malpense,’ Creed said as the boy focused on him. ‘I trust you are feeling better.’
    ‘What happened?’ Otto asked, his voice croaky.
    ‘You suffered a period of unconsciousness during your last mission,’ Creed replied. ‘You have been asleep for some time.’
    ‘Did the targets escape?’ Otto asked, frowning.
    ‘Yes, I’m afraid they did,’ Creed replied.
    ‘It will not happen again,’ Otto said, looking suddenly angry. ‘Such weakness is unacceptable.’
    He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.
    ‘Not so fast, Mr Malpense,’ Creed replied. ‘I have some tests to run before I pass you mission fit again.’
    ‘Then get on with it,’ Otto said impatiently. ‘I want to get back to my work.’
    ‘Of course you do,’ Creed replied with a faint smile.
    Otto lay back down on the bed as various technicians busied themselves with analysing his mental and physical condition. As the work continued Creed observed the boy and saw that his eyes followed everything. Creed had seen many bizarre and chilling things over the course of his career working for H.O.P.E., but there was still something about this young subject that he found deeply unsettling. He knew that he would have to report all the details of the boy’s condition to Trent, including their discovery of the strange object hidden deep within his brain. Creed also knew that Trent would be less than satisfied with his inability explain to its purpose and origins.

    Raven