by Eliza Green
She opened her door and stepped into the darkened room illuminated by a single shaft of blue light from the double moons. With a heavy sigh, she swapped her black clothes for a lighter coloured tunic. Oddly, she no longer felt the cold she once had as a human. Yet, she still felt connected to her past.
A knock on her door startled her. Nobody knew she had returned early from her surveillance mission. She opened it, surprised to find Clement standing there. As tall as Stephen and with similar features to the Indigenes—almost translucent skin and a hairless head—his startling blue eyes made him stand out.
With his hands behind his back, he said, ‘I heard you return. Did everything go okay?’
She nodded. ‘No issues. I just needed to come back.’
His eyes widened and he stepped closer. ‘Are you okay?’
Laura smiled back, shivering at his sudden proximity. ‘I’m fine, Clement. Stop worrying about me.’
Clement had barely left her side since the GS humans’ attack. He’d been her rock, filling the void that gnawed at her gut and kept her awake whenever she thought about Bill.
A smile quirked the edges of his mouth. ‘I can’t help it. You are my student. I need to look after all my protégés.’
His fingers grazed her arm. The fleeting touch was enough to stir an emotion within her.
She pulled back and laughed, to hide her discomfort. ‘I’m your only student.’
Clement pursed his lips. ‘Yes, you are right.’ He lifted his hairless brow. ‘Are you ready to resume your lessons?’
Laura looked back inside her room with its single mattress, a time piece—borrowed—and her backpack. The latter was filled with a couple of changes of clothes and a picture of Bill she still hadn’t taken out. Being in this space gave her too much time to think.
‘Unless you have other matters to attend to?’ he added.
She turned back to see the hopeful look in Clement’s eyes as he waited for her response.
Closing the door behind her she said, ‘Nothing that can’t wait. Let’s go.’
5
The window in Bill’s sixth floor office looked out over the heart of New Shorehall. Surrounded by four solid walls and a solid door that gave him privacy, he stared out at a replication of the best of British architecture, from the old war office to a scaled-down version of Westminster. But his mind refused to settle and enjoy what New London was becoming.
The sound of low chatter from the main floor permeated through the closed door. Beyond his haven, a space filled with desks and chairs housed his team, a group of people he trusted to keep this city and others like it running smoothly. From designating resources to the settlement programme for those returning or arriving from Earth, to keeping the power grid running, to managing security on the streets of New London, Bill had his hands full. But he trusted his handpicked team of men and women to keep things ticking over at all hours.
He checked the time. It was close to eight pm and time for everyone to go home. But not him. His monitor flashed with the login prompt for his encrypted communication channel. He held his security chip over the screen. The hardware scanned it, then up popped a new window asking for a code. He keyed in a special 16-digit number that would connect him with only one communication device. The connection rang and rang, quickening his pulse.
He was about to end the call when Stephen’s face appeared on screen.
His location looked to be the Gathering Room in District Three.
‘Bill, what’s happened?’ A wide-eyed Stephen sounded tense. ‘Why are you calling me?’
‘Well, hello to you too.’
Stephen had argued against using the DPad Bill had given him, preferring face-to-face discussions over use of the encrypted comms channel. But Bill had also told him he’d only contact him in emergencies.
‘Is there a reason you’re calling? Our doors are always open to you.’
His first thought had been to drop by, but knowing he could bump into one person had changed that. ‘Sorry for scaring you. I just needed to talk. Dropping by... I just couldn’t.’ He sighed. ‘How is she?’
Stephen nodded, the tension leaving his face. ‘Laura is doing well.’
A pain bloomed in his chest at hearing her name. ‘I’m glad.’
‘Is Laura the reason why you haven’t visited me since the attack?’ Stephen’s lips quirked and he pressed a hand to his heart. ‘And here I was thinking it was something I did.’
Stephen’s humour had improved vastly since he and Bill had become friends. While the Indigene had never been human, he appeared to have an appreciation for the humour. Even the light-hearted Anton had remarked on his cheerier disposition. Bill had a soft spot for the younger Indigene, but Stephen had become like a brother to him.
Stephen frowned suddenly, looking distracted.
His worry prompted Bill to lean closer to the screen. ‘Is everything okay there? You look like you’re ready to jump ship.’
Stephen blinked in surprise. ‘What? No, everything’s fine. I just have a lot on my mind.’
Ever since Tanya’s invasion, Bill had worried her visit might have acted as a catalyst, setting off a cascade of changes. ‘And the Nexus? Is everything still normal there?’
Stephen disappeared into another daze as though something more important occupied his mind.
Bill snapped his fingers. ‘Stephen?’
The Indigene blinked again. ‘The Nexus? Yes, no permanent damage. We were lucky.’
‘So what’s wrong?’
Stephen drew back his shoulders. ‘Nothing.’
‘Don’t give me that. I’ve known you long enough to sense when you’re preoccupied. What’s on your mind?’
Stephen looked off to the side, then back. With a sigh he said, ‘It’s just my pessimism kicking in, Bill. I rarely trust things to be as they are. Three weeks feels too short a time to assess anything.’
Bill frowned. ‘What about your envisioning ability?’
Stephen shook his head. ‘It still hasn’t returned on its own. The Elite’s machine has been turned off for weeks, but its effects linger on.’
The machine, set a few miles out from the GS humans’ domicile, had been emitting low levels of radiation, which had interfered with Stephen’s most recent ability.
‘And the neurosensor? You got it to work with the visions before.’
Stephen shook his head.
But Bill wasn’t worried. Stephen’s latest skill to see the future was inconsistent at best. His visions often hit out of the blue.
‘Doesn’t mean the visions are gone.’
‘No, it doesn’t.’ Stephen flashed an unconvincing smile at him. ‘So what’s new on your end? How is young Ben working out?’
Ben Watson, the teenager who had returned to Exilon 5 after Bill’s meddling put a World Government target on his back, was working with Julie on the first floor.
He leaned back in his chair. ‘Good. He’s a natural. I’m lucky to have him.’
‘And how are you with Laura being here? I promise you she is fine.’
His heart picked up a new rhythm and forced him upright. ‘Work has been keeping me busy.’
‘And the Elite? Are they still in custody?’
Bill nodded. ‘Along with their Conditioned hosts, in a secure location.’ Bill had offered to show Stephen, to remove doubt from his mind about future threats, but he’d declined. ‘Some good news, we found their lead doctor. Or rather Harvey did.’
Stephen showed no emotion. ‘That’s good news, but what do you plan to do with them?’
He still didn’t know. ‘With Jameson back, I’m hoping he and Harvey can work out what mutations the Elite have.’
Stephen snapped suddenly. ‘Why? Do you plan to make more?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Then why do you need them alive?’
Stephen was usually the one arguing to save over kill. But Gabriel’s death, caused by the mind-hijacked Conditioned, had hardened his stance toward
s the Elite.
Bill forced a smile, hoping it would placate his friend. ‘Just in case we have questions. I’m not ready to let them die and escape punishment for what they did.’
‘Well, you’re a better person than me.’
‘The offer’s still open if you’d like to see them?’
Stephen shook his head, his anger softening. ‘I have no need to see them. I trust you to keep them out of harm’s way. What about the Conditioned?’
‘Sedated. The original Elite are close to death.’ That was his other reason for keeping the Elite alive, so he could save the innocent. ‘I also want to see if we can remove the Elite consciousnesses from the hosts’ minds. With Jameson back, that should now be possible.’
Stephen glared at him. ‘Send them this way, Bill. We will remove them by force.’
Bill worried for his friend’s state of mind. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’
Stephen nodded, his lips thin and white. ‘I’m fine. Don’t stay away too long, Bill. Laura doesn’t have to know you came.’
Bill nodded. ‘I promise to visit soon. Talk to you later.’
He clicked off from the conversation and sat back in his chair. It was a promise he could not fulfil anytime soon.
His chat with Stephen reminded him to call another person, one who required a connection across more distance. He punched in a new number, ten digits longer than the one needed to connect with Stephen. The connection rang three times. The face of a woman appeared, close in age to him. She was a dead ringer for her mother.
‘Bill!’ Eleanor Waterson’s eyes widened and she smiled. ‘To what do we owe the pleasure of a call?’
‘Great to see you.’ He looked around the office she appeared to be in. ‘I’m looking for your mother. Is she there?’
Eleanor leaned to the side as if to check. ‘Uh, yeah, she’s chatting with Greyson about something.’ She returned to the screen. ‘I’ll get her for you, hold on.’
He heard her call for her mother.
‘It’s Bill,’ she said in a low voice.
‘I’ll take it in the other room. Transfer him please.’
Eleanor returned to the screen. ‘I’m guessing you heard all that?’
Bill nodded.
‘Take care.’
Her face swapped out for a view of a chest of drawers in what he guessed was a bedroom. Jenny Waterson slid into view and sat down in a chair.
The ex World Government pilot, now in her eighties, looked older without the genetic clinics to keep her young. She wore her hairstyle short and had dyed it edgy platinum, a look she’d had when he first met her, eight years ago.
Her eyes crinkled at the edges as she smiled. ‘Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? Greyson and I were just chatting about how we hadn’t heard from you since the attack. How is everything?’
Bill had called the husband and wife team the day after to tell them about the GS humans’ attack on District Three, and Tanya’s success in reaching the Nexus. The Elite had arrived in the strong bodies of their Conditioned hosts and stormed the district. A battle had ensued and Bill and the others had succeeded in keeping all of the board members from reaching the Nexus—except for one. The Conditioned bodies carrying Elite minds had been rounded up. Inside the Nexus, Simon had managed to fight Tanya off and disconnect, but it had been too late. Bill had also told them about Marcus Murphy, an ex con from Earth known to both Jenny and Greyson, who currently languished in a cell, and about Ben’s help so far.
‘Things are quiet here,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. I’ve been a little busy with our ex board members. But we found the lead doctor who was helping them to transcend.’
Jenny frowned. ‘Jameson?’
‘The very same.’
‘Didn’t you tell me he used to work for the World Government?’
‘In the early days, before the board members decided to become a new species.’
‘Okay, you have him, but I can tell you don’t believe that’s the end of the problem.’
The ex pilot, who used to transport prisoners for a living, had a knack for reading people—him especially.
He shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. I hope it is.’
‘Grey is certain that if Tanya had introduced a change into the organic Nexus, you would have seen it by now.’
Greyson Stafford was once a lab technician, like Serena in her former life, working to improve damaged DNA in those for whom genetic manipulation did not work.
‘Has Stephen reported any issues?’
‘No, he says everything’s fine.’
‘Then you’re worrying about nothing. That ragtag group of ex board members are in custody and can’t do any harm. That’s all that matters.’ She drew nearer to the screen. ‘Anything we can do from here?’
This was just a courtesy call. He shook his head. ‘Nothing right now. How are things going there?’
She sighed. ‘Oh fine. The usual resistance. People repressed for eight years and new governments laying down rules don’t mix well. There’s still mistrust among the Indigenes here. Isobel has been helping us to connect with them, to gain their trust.’
Isobel’s help had also been pivotal in breaking apart the criminal regime.
‘Any sign of Gaetano Agostini and his crew?’
She shook her head. ‘I’m not sure if we’ll see him again. But at least that scumbag Marcus is out of the way. You’re certain it was him? You described a different person to me.’
Bill nodded. ‘Harvey confirmed who he was and we did a DNA test to be sure.’
‘And Ben?’
‘He’s fine. Working away. I haven’t told him about Marcus yet.’
Jenny narrowed her eyes. ‘Don’t underestimate him, Bill. He’s older than his sixteen years, and if he finds out another way, he’ll be livid. Marcus may not have killed his adopted grandfather and brother, but his actions led to their deaths.’
Bill agreed. In fact, with Laura gone, he’d been looking closer at the teenager’s skills to see if he had a better use for him. Julie had reported him to be a fastidious worker.
‘I promise to tell him. Actually, I’m thinking of involving him in matters more.’
That seemed to please Jenny. ‘He won’t let you down. And Laura?’
Bill had told her about her desire to return to her Indigene roots. ‘Same.’
‘Don’t give up on her. She just needs time to get over the shock.’
He would give her all the time she needed, but Bill worried she had already given up on him.
Jenny shifted in her chair, looking restless. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing we can do from here? It seems like we could be doing more to help each other.’
Bill smiled. His friend never could sit still. ‘Everything is under control, I promise. Concentrate on matters there; bring order to cities. I’ll be sure to let you know if anything changes.’
Jenny nodded and smiled. ‘Okay, I appreciate the update. We all worry about you here, you know.’
‘And we worry about you. It’s good to see you again.’
Jenny clicked off, leaving Bill to stare at a blank screen and ponder their discussion. While he couldn’t see a way for Jenny and Greyson to help with matters here, he’d been serious about bringing Ben into the fold more. He wasn’t sure what the future held, but the ITF needed bright, young men.
More than ever, the younger population needed to believe the rules governing Exilon 5 could work. Given time and the right training, Ben could become a leader worth following.
6
Wearing her gel mask and a new bottle of oxygen Anton had given her that morning, Laura followed Clement down a tunnel. He navigated along a myriad of dark and uneven-floored tunnels to an area of District Three where few Indigenes resided. Her nerves picked up at the thought of training with the blue-eyed instructor. She and Clement had trained daily for the last two weeks, but Serena’s earlier mention of Bill, not to mention her comment about Laura getting closer to Clemen
t, had rattled her.
Clement walked ahead of her, his shoulders back and hands clasped loosely behind his back, as though the idea of training excited him. They reached the area devoid of Indigenes—a space where they wouldn’t disturb anyone.
Laura huffed out a breath and emptied her mind of all distractions. She needed to concentrate for this next part.
Clement stopped and turned to face her, his usual gentle appearance now harder and sterner.
He tipped his chin at her. ‘You probably don’t need your mask if you’re half Indigene. It’s likely your lungs can deal with both types of air.’
Laura grazed the mask with her fingers. ‘I want to keep it on.’
Wearing it gave her comfort. To give in to her Indigene ways completely would be to abandon her old life. She wasn’t ready to do that.
With a shrug, Clement said, ‘I want to work on developing your telepathy, in tandem with your ability to see lies in others. We’ve worked on your physical skills—speed, hearing, sight—but this evening, we’ll be exercising the mind.’
Laura understood why Clement had started with more practical exercises. It had helped to ease her into the Indigene side of life, and to relax her.
During their sessions she’d learned she could run fast, but not as quickly as Serena and nowhere near Stephen’s speed. Her hearing, muffled before, could now pick up the tiniest of noises, not only in the district but also those coming from the surface. From the vibrations in the tunnel walls to the sound of the tyres of the automated cars traversing New London’s roads overhead. She heard it all, despite the thirty metres of rock between her and the surface. Her improved vision had been a more natural transition for her. Deep underground in District Three, poor lighting had forced Laura to rely on a skill underused by humans. The odd sprinkling of light to guide her was all she needed now to navigate the tunnels.
