Chapter 11: The Art of Playing Dumb
Happiness in Sector 4 was a suspicious commodity.
Usually if someone was smiling it meant they had stolen something or they had finally snapped and were hallucinating about meadows. But this morning the smiles were real.
The barracks smelled different. It didn't smell like rot. It smelled like wet soap and clean bodies. The showers were running hot and clear. Men who hadn't washed properly in months were standing under the spray laughing like children.
I sat on my bunk nursing a cup of the filtered water. It tasted boring but it was the most delicious thing I had ever drunk.
"It bubbles," Jaren said poking his own cup. "Kael look. It has little bubbles."
"That's called oxygen Jaren," I said rubbing my sore shoulder. I reached inward checking the state of my nervous system. Kinetia wasn't magic. It was the ability to sense the kinetic potential of the world. Right now I could feel the low-frequency hum of the ventilation fans vibrating through the floor measured in hertz. My internal capacitor was low hovering at maybe 10% capacity. "It's good for you. Drink it before it evaporates."
Lyra was sitting next to me braiding her damp hair. She didn't look scared anymore. She looked suspicious. Her eyes scanned the room noting the morale shift.
"The power spike wasn't an accident," she said her voice low. "You didn't just break the lock. You rerouted the main conduit from the security grid. I saw the lights flicker in the hallway when you were in there."
I looked at her. She was sharper than I remembered.
"I just connected the red wire to the blue wire Lyra," I deflected.
"There are no wires in a kinetic lock," she countered. "You made the metal sing until it popped. I heard the pitch shift. That's not brute force Kael. That's leverage. Where did a Dim learn to listen to steel?"
Before I could answer the blast doors hissed open.
Two guards walked in. They weren't the usual grunts. These were Tier 3 Volatiles wearing the white-trimmed armor of the Overseer's personal detail. Their skin hummed with a low electrical buzz and their helmets were polarized hiding their faces.
The laughter in the showers died instantly. The barracks went deathly silent.
"He's dead," a random slave whispered from the bunk above me. "You don't get the White Guard unless you really screwed up."
"Maybe they just want to give him a medal," another slave muttered back nervously. "For the water."
"Medals," the first guy scoffed. "More like a bullet."
Jaren stood up immediately placing himself slightly in front of me. He wasn't cowering. He was stiff.
"That's Merrick's personal guard," Jaren whispered to me. "They don't do roll calls. They do executions."
"Designation 7-124," the lead guard barked. His voice was amplified by a speaker. "Front and center."
I put a hand on Jaren's shoulder gently pushing him down.
"Sit down Jaren," I said. "Before you accidentally confess to a murder we didn't commit."
I walked over to the guards. I slouched my shoulders. I let my jaw hang slightly loose. I dialed down the "Grandmaster Assassin" vibe and dialed up the "Confused Laborer" vibe.
System Notification:
[Acting Protocol Engaged. Intelligence Limiter Active. User IQ set to: 'Potato'.]
[Note: Try not to drool. It's subtle not gross.]
"You called sir?" I asked the guard wiping my nose on my sleeve.
"Hands," the guard ordered.
I held them out. He slapped magnetic cuffs on my wrists. They clamped down hard enough to bruise.
"Move."
They flanked me dragging me out of the barracks. As we walked down the corridor I heard them talking over their internal comms but my Seismic Sense picked up the vibrations in their throat mics.
"I don't see it," the left guard muttered. "Engineering says the lock was melted. This guy looks like he can barely lift a spoon."
"Don't look at me," the lead guard scoffed. "I just follow the work order. If Merrick wants to interrogate a Dim that's his business. Maybe he thinks the kid is hiding a battery."
We took the lift up to the Admin Level.
The air changed immediately. The humidity dropped. The smell of sulfur vanished replaced by the sterile scent of recycled air and lemon-scented cleaner. The floors here weren't stone. They were polished metal.
We reached Merrick's office. The guard punched a code into the door. I memorized it instantly by the sound of the beeps. 4-8-1-5. Original.
"Inside," the guard said shoving me.
I stumbled into the office trying to look clumsy. I managed to trip over my own feet and catch myself on a decorative potted plant.
"Careful!" Merrick snapped looking up from his desk. "That fern is worth more than your entire lineage."
"Sorry sir," I mumbled straightening up. "Floor is... slippery. Very shiny."
Merrick sat behind a desk that was made of real wood. Or at least a very convincing synthetic. He was reviewing a holographic display that showed the power consumption of the sector. A large red spike was visible on the graph.
Merrick didn't look at me immediately. He tapped a command on his desk.
A heavy metal chair rose from the floor in the center of the room. It had restraints on the arms and a strange metal halo attached to the headrest.
"Sit," Merrick ordered pointing at the chair without looking up.
I sat. The guards strapped my arms and legs down. The metal halo lowered until it was hovering an inch from my skull.
"Do you know what this is 7-124?" Merrick asked finally taking off his glasses.
"A barber chair sir?" I guessed blinking rapidly. "My hair is getting long."
Merrick stared at me. His eyes were pale and watery like cold soup.
"It is a Synaptic Interrogator," Merrick said. "It measures the electrical impulses in your parietal lobe. It detects stress. It detects creative thought. It detects lies."
He leaned forward.
"If the red light blinks you are lying. If you lie the chair delivers fifty thousand volts directly into your spine. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir," I gulped. "I don't like electricity sir. It tickles wrong."
Merrick tapped the desk. The halo hummed to life. A green light appeared on his holographic display.
"Let's begin," Merrick said. "Did you repair the filtration unit in Sector 4?"
"Yes sir."
The light stayed green.
"How?" Merrick asked. "That valve requires a hydraulic key. You are a malnourished Dim."
"I hit it sir," I said. "With a wrench. A big one. My dad always said if something is stuck you hit it until it isn't."
Merrick looked at the screen. Green.
"You... hit it," Merrick repeated skeptically. "That implies a kinetic force exceeding human limits. Are you hiding a Resonance ability 7-124?"
"No sir," I said. "Just really mad at the rust. I swung hard."
Green. Technically true. Kinetia was just swinging hard with math.
"And the valve," Merrick pressed. "My engineers say it was welded open. Welded. How did you generate thermal fusion without a torch?"
"Friction sir," I said wide-eyed. "I rubbed it really fast. Like starting a fire with sticks? The metal got hot."
Merrick stared at the screen. It flatlined. Green.
"Impossible," Merrick muttered tapping the screen. "The machine says you believe that. You actually believe you created friction welding by... rubbing it?"
"It got hot sir," I shrugged. "Physics?"
Merrick looked like he wanted to scream. I wasn't lying. I was just too stupid to understand why it happened. To him I was an idiot savant who didn't know the difference between magic and elbow grease.
"The power logs," Merrick said his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. This was it. The kill shot. "During your... repair... the surveillance grid for the entire sector went offline. Twelve minutes of darkness. Did you sabotage my grid?"
My heart hammered. I couldn't say "I just wanted water" to this. Sabotage was a capital offense.
"I didn't mean to break anything sir," I started. "I just..."
System Notification:
[Critical Query Detected. Truth will result in Execution.]
[Countermeasure Engaged: Synaptic Dampening. Suppressing biological feedback. Rerouting panic signals to void storage.]
I felt a cold chill wash over my brain. The System ate my fear. My pulse steadied instantly. To the machine I was a statue.
"I just pulled the big lever," I said my voice perfectly calm. "I thought it was the flush."
Merrick watched the screen.
It flickered yellow for a microsecond then settled back to green.
Merrick slumped back in his chair rubbing his temples.
"You pulled the lever," he whispered. "You rerouted the entire security grid because you thought it was a flush."
"Yes sir."
"You are an idiot," Merrick said. "A dangerous lucky idiot."
He tapped a button. The halo retracted. The restraints clicked open.
"Get up."
I stood rubbing my wrists. "Can I go sir? The quota isn't going to meet itself."
"You aren't going back to the line," Merrick said picking up his datapad. "You clearly have an aptitude for mechanics however crude. I am reassigning you."
"Reassigning me sir?"
"Maintenance," Merrick said. "You fix things. Pipes. Droids. Vents. If it breaks you hit it with your wrench until it works. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir!" I beamed. "I like hitting things."
"And 7-124," Merrick added his voice turning cold. "If my cameras blink out for even a second I will personally put you back in this chair and I will turn the voltage up until your eyes melt."
"Understood sir. No blinking cameras."
"Get out."
I turned to leave. As I turned I pretended to stumble again. I lurched sideways slamming my hand onto the corner of his desk to steady myself.
"Whoops," I said. "Sorry. Boots are muddy."
"OUT!" Merrick shouted throwing a stylus at me.
I scrambled out of the office closing the door behind me.
Inside the lift I straightened up. The slouch vanished. The dull look in my eyes sharpened into predatory focus.
I looked at my hand.
Stuck to my palm was a small piece of adhesive backing.
I had left it. Under the corner of Merrick's desk just out of sight was a small metal disc. It wasn't electronic. It was a Kinetic Resonator. A tiny construct I had formed by compressing metal filings with my own energy. It would vibrate with the soundwaves in the room transmitting them through the building's frame like a tuning fork.
It was ancient physics meets spycraft.
System Notification:
[Objective Complete: Plant Listening Device.]
[Performance Review: User acted with sufficient incompetence. Enemy underestimates Intelligence.]
[Reward: Access to Administrative Gossip.]
I smirked.
The lift doors opened back into the humid stink of the mines.
Jaren was waiting for me by the entrance looking like he expected a corpse.
"You're alive!" he gasped grabbing my shoulders. "What happened? Did he use the chair? Everyone says he has a chair."
"He used the chair," I confirmed walking past him toward the showers.
"And? Did you tell him?"
"I told him the truth Jaren," I said pressing my ear against the main water pipe running along the wall. I closed my eyes visualizing the pipe not as metal but as a conduit of vibration. I pushed my Kinetia into the iron forcing the molecules to carry the sound from the office above.
At first just rushing water. Then the distant thrum of the lift.
And then faint but clear Merrick's voice vibrating through the metal structure.
"... verify the logs. Keep an eye on him. If he fixes the ventilation system next I want to know how. And send a message to Warden Vex. Tell him... tell him productivity in Sector 4 is projected to rise by 15%."
I smiled.
"What are you doing?" Lyra asked walking up behind me. She looked at me hugging the pipe her eyes narrowing. "You look like you're hugging a snake."
"I'm listening to the heartbeat of the building," I whispered letting the kinetic flow fade.
I pulled away from the pipe.
"Gather the crew," I said to Lyra. "We have a job in Sub-Level 3. Merrick made me the maintenance chief. He gave me the keys to the kingdom because he thinks I'm too stupid to use them."
"And are you?"
I tapped the metal gauntlet hidden under my sleeve feeling the cool hum of the capacitor.
"I'm just a janitor Lyra," I said pushing off the wall. "I'm just taking out the trash."