by Eliza Green
Jameson stood at his shoulder. ‘I transferred them out; I can transfer them back.’
Bill hated that the Conditioned had been used in this way. He sensed hesitation from Jameson. ‘But...?’
‘If we do, the Elite might not last long.’
‘How long do the Conditioned have with two minds?’ asked Harvey.
‘They can survive in the pods for now, but too long and their minds will begin to deteriorate,’ said Jameson. ‘You cannot keep them in suspended animation forever.’ He looked at Bill. ‘You’ll need to decide what to do with them.’
Bill knew this setup would be temporary, but he wasn’t ready yet. ‘How long do we have?’
Jameson shrugged. ‘A week, a month—six? I don’t know. We’ve never faced this problem before.’
‘And yet thanks to you, we now do.’
‘Yeah, yeah, I get the irony. Look, I’m trying to right a wrong here.’
Bill studied the first Conditioned: a male around thirty years old who had not suffered damage from Tanya’s more aggressive testing. Yet, the loss of pigmentation on his hands hinted at some genetic testing.
‘What was done to them?’ Harvey asked Jameson.
‘We isolated the third-generation gene and mutated it further,’ replied the doctor. ‘Tanya ordered the testing to be done on the stronger Conditioned first. Not all survived the rigorous testing. Many more than the one hundred that live now existed. Double that at the start. The second we began to see results, Tanya ordered the best of the tests to be performed on her and the Elite.’
Bill touched the glass wall. ‘Can we wake them up?’
‘Yes and no.’
‘Explain.’
‘If we wake up the Elite, we risk further damage to the Conditioned mind.’
Bill echoed Jameson’s earlier warning. ‘And if we take out their consciousness and return them to the Elite, we risk the Elite dying.’
‘Exactly. I assume you need the Elite’s bodies intact?’ said the doctor.
Bill nodded. ‘Not sure what for, but I’m not ready to let them go.’ He looked up at the first Conditioned. ‘Right now though, I need to talk to one of them.’
2
The roughly hewn walls of the district tunnels gave off a gentle hum, aligning with the calm mood in District Three. For the last three weeks, Stephen had worked hard to purge the district of the negative energy caused by Tanya’s attack. Tanya’s mind was dead, along with her host Simon, but her success at reaching the Nexus had lost Stephen the trust of his charges. At least the Conditioned, forced to carry nine separate consciousnesses belonging to the Elite, had been quickly rounded up and were now under Bill’s command.
With the help of the neurosensor, Stephen had seen a future that predicted chaos and unrest inside the Nexus. But with his envisioning skill on the blink, he didn’t fully trust that vision. Nor could he trust Margaux’s warning that the Nexus gave off the oddest feeling. It felt normal, as though Tanya had never made it inside. Okay, maybe the last time he’d used the space, the usual beat of the Nexus wall had been off by a fraction. He supposed it was to be expected. Had Tanya been rooting around his personal space, he’d need a little time to recover too.
The Nexus wasn’t his immediate concern. His envisioning skill, which had disappeared the moment the GS humans had fired up their energy-stealing machine, had yet to return on its own. With the neurosensor, Stephen had seen not only Tanya’s attack but also a new threat from the rogue groups.
Using the same device again, Stephen searched for a clarity that had been missing from his last prediction about the Nexus. Had he been confusing the chaos and unrest with the rogue group threat? Nothing came; no dull ache in his head, no flash of images to clear up the confusion.
The future remained a mystery, despite the energy-stealing machine being out of operation.
‘Everything will return in good time,’ Serena had told him.
He wished he could believe her, but his belief wavered the longer his skill stayed away. It unsettled him not knowing if his future predictions were correct.
But at least Stephen hadn’t lost all his skills. He could still see the Indigenes’ moods in colours. That information had helped him to restore a balance, missing from this district long before the GS Elite had waged war on them.
Stephen walked through the dimly lit tunnels, navigating the uneven floor with ease. He and Serena had agreed to show their faces every day since the attack, despite the hostility levelled towards them by some. Hiding out in the Council Chambers while things were delicate would only set back their efforts to return things to normal.
He was certain Elise, his former elder, would have agreed with his new methods. But maybe not Pierre, who had preferred secrecy to open dialogue. Stephen had emulated Pierre’s methods at the start. Eight years of protecting a fragile peace treaty, though, had forced Stephen to adopt a more open and inclusive style. Not only that, but many of his charges, Evolvers during Pierre’s regime, had become young adults with hot opinions and itchy feet.
The auras of the Indigenes illuminated the dim tunnels. Greens and blues dominated the spectrum, happy and calm, but unrest had not been quelled from the district. He saw too many reds and yellows, indicating anger and indecision, for his mind to truly settle.
The tunnels made from the gamma rock echoed back the calmer feelings of its inhabitants, so different to the jerk and pitch of what had gone before. While calm indicated a return to normality, not all problems had been rectified.
His main worry was Margaux.
Gabriel was dead and Margaux hadn’t left the district since the attack had happened. After he’d sent word of Gabriel’s death to District Eight, he’d received word back that new elders had been appointed to take up permanent command there. It was inevitable, he supposed. Without Gabriel, Margaux was no leader. Not many of her charges had cared for her wild premonitions, or her strange way of looking at the world.
Stephen entered the Central Core, a communal space often used to teach the young Evolvers. But with few Evolvers having been born in the last eight years, Stephen worried his district was losing its vibrancy. Before the attack, this space had been their hub of operations. After, it became an emergency trauma centre. Before, new tunnels had been created, and the debris used to block the tranquillity caves. After, some rocks had been returned to the Core, making what was usually a cavernous space feel claustrophobic. Classes to teach Indigene ways continued in one unobstructed corner of the room. Stephen wished his envisioning skill had been working. He could have predicted the carnage that took them all by surprise. He might have been able to stop it.
Crossing the Core, he assessed the current mood there. His efforts to connect shortened his breaths. Being constantly “on” and alert to new changes in moods drained him. It had been more than a week since he’d used the Nexus to heal.
He shook the fogginess from his mind that accompanied any attempt to use his skill these days. Despite Serena’s demands that he rest, he could not. Maybe he should hunt. The lone activity usually worked to clear his mind.
Perhaps that would be enough.
His body told a different story. Cuts on his arms and feet, caused by careless steps over uneven terrain, were slow to heal.
Maybe another trip to the Nexus would help.
Not yet, not until he’d spoken to Serena. She’d taken a different route to him, assessing things in her own way. He hoped she hadn’t used her influence on others too much. Stephen wanted to know if the calm existed for real, not because she had created it.
Sensing nothing of concern, Stephen headed back to the Council Chamber. For the last three weeks this had been his and Serena’s routine.
He found her inside the Council Chamber. She was not alone. Anton and Arianna waited with her. They stood together in the middle of the room, huddled in an intimate way, as though their conversation was not meant to be heard. Stephen’s arrival startled them and their huddle broke apart.
How
was your walk? asked Serena.
Same as yesterday. You?
I can’t sense any danger. The district is calm again. She gave a slight shrug. Maybe this is all over?
Maybe. His gaze slid from her to Anton and Arianna, his two closest friends.
He switched to his voice. ‘What’s happening on the surface?’
Anton flashed a closed smile at him. ‘Not much. With the GS humans safely locked up, there’s nothing left to fight about. The rogue humans are keeping a low profile. All of your charges are accounted for.’
At least that was something. Indigenes, unhappy with Stephen’s leadership, had been secretly meeting with the humans. Their plan? To topple ITF command. Without the ITF, the peace treaty would be no more—a result that would please both sides, apparently.
‘What are the rogue humans saying about the events here, or the missing GS humans? Are they blaming us for this incident?’
Arianna shrugged. ‘I don’t think they realised anything happened.’
He supposed that made sense. The only ones affected by the attack had been the Elite, their Conditioned vessels and the Indigenes.
‘Still, we can’t assume that Indigenes from this district or others won’t meet up with the rogue groups again. What happened here won’t change their interest in breaking apart the ITF. If that happens, we would lose their protection.’
Anton patted Stephen on the shoulder. ‘We’ll keep watching.’
And the other districts? asked Stephen, slipping into telepathy. Using his voice drained his already low energy supplies.
There’s unrest, obviously, said Arianna, but the attack didn’t happen to them.
No, it hadn’t, but Stephen had enough experience with stubborn elders to know all would not be as open minded as Gabriel and Margaux.
His thoughts went to the latter.
What’s to be done with Margaux? Anton asked, as though he’d read his mind.
Stephen frowned. Nothing, why?
Anton switched to his voice. ‘I mean, does she stay here or return to Eight?’
Margaux had just lost her husband. He thought back to how Pierre had handled it when Elise had died. Not very well. Margaux appeared to be coping better than he had.
She can stay for as long as she needs. Her district will survive without her. They have elected new elders.
Serena said, ‘She’s not well, Stephen.’
He waved his hand, just like Pierre used to do. She’s grieving.
Serena frowned, as though his answer irritated her. There’s something else going on. During moments of lucidity she understands what has happened, but when she’s out of it she’s a rambling mess. I think you should speak to her.
He had planned to visit her, but not before he was certain the district no longer needed his full attention. Margaux had warned him the Nexus was changing, but having spent time there since the attack, and experiencing no ill effects, Stephen assumed she was not lucid.
I’ll go see her after this.
‘What do you want us to do?’ said Anton.
For the first time in three weeks, everything was under control. He had not encountered any issues for days now.
Hunt, but don’t kill. They had a one-kill-per-day policy, as per the peace treaty. He’d hoped to be the one to use that privilege soon. He added, Relax in the Nexus.
He walked to the door.
‘And tomorrow?’ asked Arianna.
Tomorrow we do this all over again. We’ll continue to watch the rogue human groups, see if they’re planning anything. I can’t let my guard relax around them just now.
Arianna frowned. ‘For how long?’
He paused, one hand on the thick wooden door. Until I can be sure we’re going to be okay.
☼
Stephen followed the western tunnel to the area of accommodation where Margaux’s quarters were located. A circular accommodation set on two levels had been cleared of other occupants to give Margaux privacy. Stephen nodded to the two guards stationed outside her room. In her less than lucid state, Margaux liked to wander off. He didn’t want to leave her unattended in case she injured herself.
The Indigene guards stepped aside. With trepidation and a quickening pulse, he stepped up to the door. Pressing his ear against it, he listened. Nothing. He couldn’t sense her either, but that could just be the soundproofing omicron rock and tight seal on the door, muting his efforts to sense an Indigene mind.
Stephen pushed against the unlocked door. With two guards posted outside, Margaux wouldn’t get far.
It creaked open.
Margaux? It’s Stephen, he called out to her telepathically. It seemed to soothe her more when he conversed in this way.
Come in.
Her reply sounded feeble, even in his mind.
Stephen stepped into the room. It was void of light. His sharp vision brightened the space and brought clarity to shapes and figures. The light from the double moons illuminated the space, giving it a faint blue hue, indicating night was upon them.
The room held nothing except for a thin mattress on the floor. Indigenes needed few comforts, elders even less so.
Margaux sat cross-legged on the mattress, with her back to him, facing the wall.
How are you feeling today? he asked.
How was she feeling? A stupid question. She’d just lost Gabriel. But the elder of District Eight was not the most conventional Indigene he’d ever known.
She turned, her eyes red and puffy looking, as though she’d been crying. But they held no tears. Her pale skin, more than a hundred years old and with only a few wrinkles, took on a ghostly appearance in the blue moonlight. She held something in her hand, a trinket that Stephen had seen Gabriel wear around his neck. A silver necklace with a cross on the end of it.
From whom?
It wasn’t his business to pry.
I’m fine, Margaux replied. Her gaze returned to her lap and the necklace in her hand. She brought it close to her face to inspect it.
Is there anything I can do for you? Do you need anything?
Margaux jerked her head to the door. You can get rid of my guards. I am not a child.
That he couldn’t do, not while her stability was in question.
You’re free to leave anytime you like.
Margaux scoffed at his suggestion. Not when I need to.
He assumed she meant when she was in one of her less lucid states.
He switched to his voice, hoping to drive the point home. ‘I can’t risk your safety. You have a habit of wandering off.’
She glared at him. ‘I need to check something. I can’t sense it while I’m like this. The only time I can feel it is when I slip away.’
‘Check what?’
She lifted her hands and, with the motion, began her slide into her other personality. ‘The Nexus, The district. The mood of this place.’
‘You don’t have to worry. Everything is back to normal.’
She looked up at him, then around, her eyes taking on a more manic look. ‘And the Nexus? I can feel it. A second heart beat. It calls to me.’
Stephen nodded, hoping to placate her and delay her slide into madness. He couldn’t make sense of the wilder version of Margaux.
‘It’s fine. I’ve used it. Serena has used it. Everything is fine.’
She scoffed and looked away. ‘What would you know about how it feels?’
‘More than you.’ The Nexus in District Three differed to the one in Eight. Serena’s early use of it had changed its composition. ‘Serena doesn’t sense anything out of place. I trust her judgement and my own.’
Margaux got to her feet, abandoning the necklace on the mattress. ‘Can’t you sense the changes?’ Her fingers grazed the walls. She studied the ceiling as though a masterpiece had been drawn on it. ‘They’re everywhere.’ She drew her hands to the front and studied them. ‘They’re in my blood, crawling around inside me.’
Stephen dreaded the arrival of the second person. Gabriel had been th
e only one who could make sense of her ramblings.
‘You’ve used the Nexus, Margaux. You’re still here. Nothing bad is happening.’
As though a switch flicked in her brain, Margaux grunted and clawed at her skin. ‘Get them out of me!’
Every scratch she made drew blood, but her skin healed in an instant. That was the only good thing about this.
Still, he hated seeing her in distress.
Margaux, please... He grabbed her hand to stop the clawing.
She jerked away from him and strode to the door, opening it. The two guards stared at her. She stood her ground.
Margaux, come back inside.
No, I need to see the Nexus. I need to know...
‘You need help with her?’ said one nervous-looking guard.
Stephen shook his head and led Margaux back into the room, where she continued to scratch at herself. Lost inside her mind, their time in the real world had come to an end.
Ten minutes later, she’d calmed down enough to stop pacing and sit on the mattress once more. Stephen placed Gabriel’s cross in her hand. She quietened down as she examined it.
As Stephen left her quarters, he worried for her. Gabriel had been her life. District Eight her home. Without either, what would become of her?
3
Bill, Harvey and Jameson entered the cryogenic room, while the two assistants stayed by the screens and the controls for the stasis pods. With a shake of his head, Bill assessed the scene. Nine Elite and ten Conditioned in stasis pods was strange enough. Working with Harvey Buchanan? Stranger still. If someone had told him this would be the turn of events, he’d have laughed it off as a joke.
Jameson used the intercom to speak to his assistants. With a nod at the first male Bill had picked, he said, ‘Reduce the stasis drugs on Conditioned One. Wake this one up slowly.’
While the assistants worked the controls from outside the room, Bill studied the faces of the Conditioned. They had all been people who’d lived on Earth and who had probably worked high up enough in the World Government to catch Tanya’s eye. Tanya had been old school like Deighton—she’d also favoured intellect in the creation of this third, and new, species.
