Started with Errors (Relative Industries Series Book 2)

by Joanna Beaumont

  Inside the supermarket, their primal instincts temporarily stirred, every male post-thirty-five raised their marked palm in the air and chanted a single menacing ‘YP’ before returning to their business.

  She glanced at the symbol on the cashier’s branded palm: coiled snakes in the shape of the number 35 inside a circle.

  Lana did not chant. It was a war cry of old and a chilling reminder. Primitive men like them were responsible for the bloodshed in the civil war.

  The guard stormed inside again. “Turn it fucking down.” He stabbed his finger at the cashier. “I’m sick of you, you little shit. If I find out you’re fiddling with the prices, I’ll shoot you myself.”

  Chipped like animals, behaving like animals. Maybe this was always their destiny.

  In the hallway of her apartment, Lana kicked off her shoes then stepped into the kitchen. She dumped the grocery bag on the counter and headed to her bedroom.

  From the corner of her eye, she spotted a blonde woman sitting on the sofa in the living room. She backtracked and stepped inside.

  “Paige, what are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you. How long has it been?”

  Lana sat in the armchair opposite her sister. “Nearly three years. You can’t be here. How did you get in?”

  “Your flat mate let me in. I told him I was meeting you. He said he was rushing off to work. Are you going to Ascension Island? I worked hard to get your name on the list.”

  Lana sighed, already resigned to failure. “Yes, but they need security clearance.”

  “Don’t worry.”

  “It’s a Top Secret facility. They’ll research my life history!”

  “It will be okay, just stick to the story.”

  Don’t worry. Lana shook her head wondering how either of them could not worry. They could be outed as liars. Their careers could be over. What if they were both kicked out of the New Cities? Lana would be imprisoned. Paige wouldn’t—she never lied about who she was. Paige could pretend she’d no idea Lana had assumed a new identity. Lana was the one in way over her head.

  Lana gazed at her. They didn’t look like sisters, Paige with blonde hair and bright-blue eyes and Lana’s brown hair dyed red and her real eye colour brown.

  When they were little, before they went to sleep, they gazed at the photograph of their parents and argued over who had whose eyes. They couldn’t tell the colour from the photograph. Granny told them their mother had brown eyes and their father had blue. Each night they would take turns to look most like mum or dad.

  They exchanged more silence.

  When they were younger, they didn’t need to speak. They always knew what the other one thought. Not seeing her sister in three years had been hard. After their parents died, when they were little, they’d become inseparable. Lana had clung to Paige in fear Paige would die too.

  In the war they almost had.

  When Lana was sixteen she found out she was GAV positive. Paige found out when she was seventeen. In 2053, after reports of a reduction in the birth rate for eighteen-year-olds, a national testing program ran blood tests on girls aged sixteen and over. The testing revealed both Lana and Paige were infected with the GAV virus and carrying a child would be impossible. The media labelled them post-thirty-fives. Lana and Paige had assumed they were the unlucky ones.

  Paige held her hand out to Lana and showed her the implant site between her thumb and finger. She scratched it. “It’s itchy. Some people have it injected elsewhere, but I wanted to see it. It’s a reminder of our fight.”

  Lana rose. “Do you want antiseptic cream?”

  “I’m okay.”

  Lana dropped down in her seat again. “Why is the YP supporting the implant rollout?”

  Paige rubbed a finger along the beading on the arm of the sofa. “I had no choice. They didn’t want to change the HFEA Act. They said it was unethical to grow babies outside the womb. I argued it was unethical to leave it to another country, and we had to bring ourselves into alignment with the rest of the world. The YP’s support of the implant was a condition, a quid pro quo.”

  “The pre-thirty-fives can’t relate to us because it’s not their problem. They’ve written us off, decided we can’t carry on the species, so why bother with us at all.” Lana’s voice croaked with malice. She remembered the kids outside the New Cities. No one cared about the infertile.

  “The government wanted to wait for the conclusions of a report delayed five times already. Without Alex Hamilton’s input at Relative Industries they would never have changed the Act. He’s gone back to Ascension Island now.”

  Paige touched her hair, and her face had flushed when she’d mentioned Alex. Lana got the feeling there’d been chemistry between them. Exactly how hard had Paige worked to get her name on the list?

  “Alex offered the government free location, and credit tracking bundled up with the next upgrade to thought-text on the condition RI Ascension Island was the sole research centre to use the amended HFEA Act. Credit monitoring and location tracking are apparently in the new terms and conditions if anyone bothers to read them; not like you can say no to them anyway.”

  Lana slumped back in her chair. “Is there no limit to how low they will go?”

  “Apparently not,” Paige replied.

  “And you’re not bothered about the tracking?”

  “Where will they track us? Inside the New Cities there’s nowhere to go, and the YP are under control now—my control. We have bigger problems than being tracked. It was a small sacrifice to get the changes made to the HFEA Act. Anyway, if the government think they’ve won, they haven’t because we can cut the implant out.”

  “And then what will happen to our credit?”

  Paige sighed. “We needed the changes. Nobody will risk working illegally and getting thrown out of the New Cities. Have you seen the news broadcasts from outside?”

  “But outside they’re not chipped.”

  “Are you saying you would prefer to live outside?”

  The thought made Lana shiver. “No, I just wish it was different. After they’ve got inside our bodies with an implant, I’m not sure what they could do next.”

  “The implant is not just for the post-thirty-fives. In two days everyone in the New Cities will have one. Most people have one already. They wanted the tech upgrade, and free credits are added—if you choose not to donate them.”

  Lana knew they wanted the upgrade. She’d watched the queues outside the tech shops on TV, and it baffled her. “How do you know I’ll get the clearance?”

  “Because you will. You’re part of the new collaboration with China. And they’re not that clever.”

  “Who aren’t—Relative Industries? The people who manipulate time. They’re not clever?”

  “No, the government who insists RI-Ascension Island is a Top Secret facility. Alex has sorted everything out so don’t worry. Say hi to him from me when you see him.”

  Lana remembered the last time the government declared something Top Secret. If they had revealed the true scale of the infertility crisis, she was sure the war would never have started. But they decided admitting it would be a threat to national security. And after the testing program in 2053 they kept that secret for five years.

  “I hope you’re right,” Lana said.

  “I better go. I’ve left the others dropping leaflets. If I lose any support, they’ll use it as a reason to get rid of me. The PM wants to put his son as head of the YP. I swear he’s had a lobotomy, and I’ve had to take him as my deputy. I called your lab. They told me you’d gone home. They said you were sick?”

  “I freaked out when Callum said security clearance. He’s probably worked out by now I was a terrorist.”

  “We weren’t the terrorists. Terrorists hijacked the YAG.”

  “Maybe.”

  “There’s no maybe about it.”

  “Will I see you again? I’ve missed you,” Lana said.

  “If I can.” Paige stood. “Good luck; we’
re counting on you. I know you’ll do it. Doing this research under time acceleration was always the way forward. Five years ahead in five days, that is something.”

  Lana pushed herself up, rushed over to Paige and thrust her arms around her. Paige stumbled back.

  Lana wrapped her arms tighter around Paige. “I’ve missed you. I miss them. There’s nobody else I can talk to about it. I still smell the smoke in my sleep. I wake up choking on it.”

  “I miss them too.”

  “It haunts me.” Lana couldn’t stop her tears falling.

  Paige hugged her back then broke free from her grip. “You have to keep it together.”

  “I know…You’d better go. You’re being tracked, remember.” Lana dried the wet streaks on her cheeks with her sleeve. “I’ll be okay.” She tried to smile.

  The front door closed, and Lana dropped back in her chair.

  The pressure of her responsibility was threatening to overwhelm her. Everybody wanted this as much as she did. She knew she must keep it together. But if human embryos wouldn’t grow to full term outside the womb, or if the virus had compromised post-thirty-five embryos, then what—the end of the human race? Without the younger generation contributing to the birth-rate, births would grind to a halt when the pre-thirty-fives could no longer have children.

  She would not have children. There wouldn’t be any human carers for her in old age. The most she could hope for was an RI robotic carer. But other than the robots and the glass ghost cities, what would be left after her generation died?

  Soaked in feelings of failure, the coward in her hoped she wouldn’t get the clearance, hoped events conspired against her, better to be in a physical prison than a mental one.

  Her phone vibrated with the call she’d expected. She stared at Callum’s avatar on the screen.

  “Clearance is through. Pick up is at 11:00 a.m. tomorrow.”

  “Can you hear me, Lana. Are you there?”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, you okay? I can come around.”

  “No, I’m fine. We both need to pack.”

  “Okay, on the roof at work at 11 a.m.”

  “Okay.”

  She ended the call. She had to go out and get more hair dye. She was going to Ascension Island.

  Now, all she needed to do was keep up with her lie and make sure no one found out who she really was inside a Top Secret facility.

  Chapter Six

  The funeral director offered Beth the bucket of soil.

  She released her grip on Howard’s hand, took a handful of sun-baked dirt and stepped towards the hole in the ground.

  She squinted at the brash sun-light reflecting from the copper plaque on Jason’s coffin and threw the dirt. The dried clumps landed hard, pinging the metal plaque more loudly than was appropriate. It should have landed quietly. And it should have been raining and overcast. But like the dirt, the sun had no shame.

  On his headstone: In memory of Jason Croft, beloved son and brother who gave his life fighting for our survival, Aged 25, April 21, 2062.

  She stepped back and side glanced at Jason’s dad. Jason’s parents had decided he should be buried on Ascension Island. They’d arrived yesterday. She’d never seen a man his age cry before. Her throat constricted painfully like it did just before she would cry. She inhaled a single deep sob and looked away, a part of her relieved she would never know the pain of losing a child.

  Cait wore a black trouser suit and stood next to Jason’s mother. Beth hadn’t seen Cait for months. Shortly after Jason died, Cait left Zone 12. For Cait, his death was still fresh in her mind. Jason had died only three days ago.

  Meda, dressed in a tight black skirt and black blouse, stepped towards the hole. She held a black parasol in one hand and her pile of dirt in the other. She flung the soil and stepped away. Even Alex was saddened when he went next. No one had imagined such grave consequences.

  Jason had died only three days ago, but Beth had spent most of that time inside Zone 12, so over a year had passed for her.

  In those first weeks after his death, she’d spent most of her time in bed in her apartment inside Zone 12. She hadn’t wanted to see anyone, not even Howard, for a time. Her mind sunk into a dark pit of swirling anger, guilt and self-pity. She couldn’t claw free from it.

  After the first week, Howard stopped asking if she was okay, and she was glad. She didn’t want or deserve his sympathy.

  He left her alone in the apartment and went to work in the new botany role he’d started after quitting medical research. He was happier than ever at work, but she was miserable. All she’d wanted to do was make people ‘Be Happy’, and Jason had died because of it.

  After a few months, Meda visited Beth inside Zone 12. Beth was in the control room, going over the footage of Jason’s death again.

  Beth had found the bug in the code, but she didn’t tell Meda about it. It would stay forever between Cait, Beth and Howard. Meda had sat next to her, looked at her unbrushed hair, her creased clothes, her days-old mascara and suggested therapy. Beth agreed for Howard’s sake, for her own sake. She needed help letting Jason go.

  Beth helped Meda transfer the ImReal equipment inside Zone 0 for decommissioning, then Meda closed the door on ImReal. Beth did too. Meda suggested she work in methane reduction techniques for cattle, and Beth agreed. She did have limited experience in cattle farts.

  “Beth, isn’t it?” Jason’s mother asked. Her resemblance to Jason was eerily startling.

  Cait joined them in a hurry.

  “Yes.”

  “Jason spoke highly of you. He didn’t tell us what you were doing inside RI, but he was sure it would help at home. I know he’d want you to carry on. We’re just sorry the classification of his work means we’ll never find out exactly what happened to him.”

  Beth and Cait exchanged guilty glances. Beth doubted Jason would have wanted ImReal to continue. Cait didn’t, not after she realised she’d made the mistake in the code which led to his death. ImReal was cancelled indefinitely.

  “Jason is missed,” Beth said.

  “And Cait will be too, I expect.”

  Cait blushed and turned away from Beth’s gaze.

  “Are you leaving RI?” Beth asked Cait.

  “Cait is coming home to live with us, aren’t you? She has the little one to think about now.”

  Beth squinted at Cait then her eyes landed on her belly. She felt like she’d taken a kick to the stomach. There was a defined paunch at Cait’s normally flat stomach. Then Beth remembered Cait eating pizza and the baggy clothes she’d seen her in.

  “Are you pregnant?”

  “Excuse me,” Cait said to Jason’s mother.

  Cait took hold of Beth’s arm and led her away. Beth glanced at Howard as they walked by him, and he raised his eyebrows as if to ask where she was going.

  Metres from the gathering and away from prying ears, Cait said, “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you before.”

  “But how can you be pregnant—you’re post-thirty-five?” Her words came out without thinking. She knew she sounded resentful.

  “You assumed I was, and I never corrected you. How could I tell you I was pre-thirty-five?”

  If Cait had warned her she was GAV negative, she would have emotionally prepared for this moment. The compulsion to be immersed again flooded through Beth, her long period of abstinence suddenly under threat. She swiped her shoe across the sandy soil. She wanted to bury her head again. Would she always be vulnerable? At least being so far from the UK she’d have a legitimate reason to turn down an invitation to the baby shower. What should one say when their friend is pregnant and they can never be?

  Beth smiled awkwardly. Cait looked mortified as if someone had died again. But a baby would be born. Beth felt ashamed. Cait had kept that secret from her all this time. Beth never told anyone she was GAV negative while she was immersed. No one mentioned fertility status. You’d need a devil’s heart to flaunt it in front of a post-thirty-five. Beth was gla
d she’d never told her. It could have made their relationship awkward.

  Beth cleared her throat and smiled weakly. “Congratulations, that’s wonderful news.”

  Cait stepped closer and whispered, “His parents must never find out I caused Jason’s death.”

  Beth glanced at Jason’s parents. Jason’s mother smiled at her. Beth looked away and caught Howard’s eye. He must have read her hopeless expression. He started walking towards her.

  Cait had made the mistake in the code, but Beth should have checked before they’d tested. They both had to live with their guilt. But Cait would have Jason’s child. For the rest of her life she’d have a daily reminder of her mistake. She’d never be able to forget.

  “When are you leaving?”

  “After the funeral.”

  Howard placed his arm around Beth’s waist, and Cait walked away.

  “Cait is pregnant,” Beth told him. “That’s good, right?”

  Howard nodded.

  Beth watched Cait return to Jason’s mother. “I’m happy for her.”

  Chapter Seven

  The next morning an auto-cab arrived at Lana’s apartment at 10:30 a.m. A driver would’ve been useful to help with her bags, but she struggled by herself and messaged Callum, hoping he’d meet her outside the building when she arrived.

  She’d checked her cases ten times before she left, as if the thirty tubes of hair dye might have jumped out by themselves.

  The auto-cab pulled up outside work. Callum was waiting for her, wearing a light-blue linen shirt and aviator sunglasses. He swaggered up to the cab, taking his glasses off and sliding them inside his shirt pocket. She couldn’t help smiling. He ran his hand over his hair and smiled at her. She knew she shouldn’t encourage him.

  He carried her bags to the elevator. She tried to look glum and disinterested but it was difficult now she knew she wanted him. It wasn’t fair to start a relationship based on lies, and now she had the chance to make a difference, she couldn’t risk telling him. He might worry about losing his job or being thrown out of the New Cities. He might decide to inform the authorities about her. If he accidentally told someone, her secret could go viral.