Please follow me.’ The Contessa headed towards the Plotting Room door as the group stood up to follow her.
‘This,’ the Contessa said, ‘is accommodation area seven.’
The large high-roofed cavern had an impressive open stone-floored atrium in the centre, with a waterfall at one end, tumbling from a small cave near the roof and down the wall into a crystal-clear pool. Arranged around the atrium were groups of comfortable sofas and armchairs, many of which were occupied by students who appeared to come from a cross-section of all streams, judging by their uniforms. Some were sat alone working, flicking through books or scribbling in note pads, while others sat around in groups, engrossed in conversation or playing games. There were even some swimming in the pool at the base of the waterfall.
Around the walls of the cavern were wide balconies on four different levels. Strange twisting vines and other tropical plants hung from each balcony, and elevators in glass tubes could be seen ferrying people quickly between the different floors. Opening on to each balcony were rows of identical white doors, which would occasionally hiss open and shut as students came and went.
‘This is where you will spend much of your time when not in classes. There are many communal facilities in this area that you may wish to take advantage of, including libraries and games rooms, but I shall leave it to your new block monitor to explain this all to you in more detail. Now, where is Mr Khan?’ The Contessa looked around the room. ‘Ah, there he is. Come along.’ The Contessa set off across the atrium.
‘Well, this seems . . . erm . . . nice,’ Nigel said as they made their way across the broad atrium in pursuit of the Contessa.
‘As long as we all don’t have to share one bathroom,’ Shelby replied.
Otto noted that this area seemed to be designed on the same grand scale as all of the other facilities within H.I.V.E. that they had seen so far. It was as if the architect of the facility had been given a brief to make sure that the students were overwhelmed by its size. No doubt this was done deliberately to give the students the impression of being very small individual parts in a much larger machine. It was hard not to be impressed by such grandiose construction, but Otto reminded himself that big did not necessarily mean better.
The Contessa halted beside a group of three sofas arranged around a low table. Sitting in these seats were three older students, two boys and a girl, who were engaged in such a heated discussion that they did not notice the Contessa’s approach.
‘I don’t care what you say. He’s just a man, he’s not indestructible,’ said a tall black girl wearing a white uniform.
‘Then how come he’s still around after all these years, survived all those attempts to eliminate him?’ asked a thin boy with a crooked nose and a vertical scar across one eye. His black jumpsuit marked him out as an Alpha.
‘More to the point, why doesn’t he seem to have aged at all since he first appeared? He should be sixty or seventy years old now, but he still looks like he’s in his thirties,’ offered the third student, a handsome Indian boy with long dark hair that fell to his shoulders and a goatee beard, trimmed into an immaculate triangle, on his chin. He too wore the black jumpsuit of an Alpha stream student.
‘Maybe he’s not actually the same guy as when he first appeared. Maybe they just alter a younger man’s appearance to match his every few years and quietly replace him,’ the black girl replied.
‘Oh, come on, Jo, that’s ridiculous,’ the Indian boy shot back. ‘As if people wouldn’t be able to see the difference. Look, I’m telling you, he’s still the same guy, and if –’
‘Ahem.’ The Contessa cleared her throat and the boy turned, startled. Seeing her standing there, he immediately leapt to his feet.
‘Oh, sorry, Contessa. We didn’t see you there, we were just discussing . .
K. Sterling
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