by Eliza Green
Clement watched her, his head cocked slightly. He was taller than Bill. His skin was less translucent, more opaque, in appearance than that of the first-generation elders from other districts. Laura put that odd variation down to his specific mutations. The older Indigenes had been the first to be created. Indigenes like Stephen and Anton, born of Indigene parents, were second-generation Indigenes. Serena and Clement were third—once human, but with a more attuned set of skills.
She wondered about his human life.
‘Why don’t you ask me?’ Clement said.
Laura’s cheeks heated up, which only made him smile. ‘I miss that trait. Indigenes don’t have enough red blood in their bodies to cause a flush.’
His soft gaze unsettled her. Keen to switch focus off her, she said, ‘Where did you come from?’
Clement wagged his finger at her. Use your inner voice.
Laura had avoided using her telepathy for one simple reason: speaking aloud tethered her to her human side. She’d never used it around Bill. Except that one day Stephen had called over, when she’d slipped into the silent conversation without thinking. Bill had been furious.
She swallowed back a hard lump.
How do we start?
Her own telepathy wasn’t strong enough to read minds; she hoped Clement couldn’t read hers.
Clement flashed his perfect, white teeth at her. For an Indigene, he was unique, and not just because of the blue eyes that made him look closer to human than Indigene. It was all of him. His patience, his friendship—his honesty. Because she could see lies manifesting, the latter meant more to her than anything else. Yet, when it came to her own truth, she struggled with it daily.
You’re already doing it. Clement’s declaration snapped her out of her thoughts. Ask me something.
Laura hesitated.
As if Clement sensed it, he said, ‘Telepathy won’t lessen your human traits. Stephen already told you your genetic mutations have gone as far as they can.’
Knowing that had given her some peace, but using her Indigene skills brought her closer to one side and away from another. Regardless, the need to know more about what she could do pushed her on.
The blue-eyed Indigene watched her. Beneath a gaze with a similar intensity to Serena’s, her cheeks blazed a second time. Only difference was, she wasn’t attracted to Serena.
Shaking out her arms, she hoped the action would work on her thoughts too. ‘I’m not sure where to begin.’
‘We start with telepathy. Using one of your skills will help to exercise your mind. You ask me questions and we’ll see how my answers fare with your inbuilt lie detector.’ Clement tipped his chin at her. Ask me a question.
Laura concentrated on the telepathic part of her mind, which manifested as a loose strand blowing in the wind. When she connected to another with the same ability, the strand tightened. In her mind, she grabbed the strand and jerked it, feeling a familiar resistance that indicated a connection.
Eh, how old are you?
Thirty-eight. Clement’s lips quirked up. Am I lying or telling the truth?
She concentrated on his form for a second. Small shivers of black moved apart from his solid form, but not long enough for her to be sure.
‘Maybe?’ she said, switching to her voice.
Clement laughed. ‘I’m thirty-seven.’
‘So you were lying?’
The Indigene shrugged. ‘Just a white lie that would not give rise to concern. How about you try something less... ordinary.’
He shook out his hands, readying for her next question.
Laura bit her lip as she asked something she’d wanted to know for a while now. Do you remember your old life?
Yes.
She checked his form, but not a flicker. Forgetting about their training, she pried more. ‘Who were you?’
‘Someone who had the right genetics. Blond hair, blue eyes. Like Serena. Use your inner voice to ask your questions.’
His was a combination that hadn’t been too far from her own genetics, except for her green eyes.
The strand grew slack. Laura tugged on it.
What happened to you after Serena was created?
Clement frowned as he remembered. I don’t remember much of my turning, but I think it was quick. Success with Serena prompted a rush on the creation of more test subjects. According to Gabriel, I arrived in District Eight three weeks after she did.
She slipped back into using her voice. ‘That must have been frightening.’
This time, Clement didn’t correct her. Yes and no. He looked away. I didn’t remember my old life at first, but it came back to me in pieces. He looked at her. When I got hold of my file as a human, it all made sense.
That had been the first condition of the peace treaty, eight years ago. First and third-generation Indigenes had demanded access to their files as humans. Some had requested genetic reversal and returned to Earth. Others had remained Indigenes.
Did you leave a family behind on Earth?
Clement locked his gaze on her. No.
His eyes held no secrets.
What made you want to stay an Indigene?
Clement half smiled. A calling perhaps? I felt more at ease with this life than my old one.
Laura nodded. ‘It’s how I feel at times, but I’m still human.’
She still looked human too. Stephen had treated her Seasonal Affective Disorder by introducing his DNA into her system, which had overloaded it. The changes that had manifested when she’d first turned into an Indigene had altered her genetics and eye colour. She’d even lost her hair. But with a successful reversal, her blonde hair had grown back and the green pigmentation in her eyes had returned to normal.
‘It seems to me that you have the best of both worlds,’ said Clement. ‘Why must you choose between them?’
Laura couldn’t explain what it felt like to be stuck between both worlds. ‘I’m here because my Indigene side, while alien, intrigues me. For me to move on properly, I must confront it.’
Clement lowered his chin, keeping his eyes on her. Does that mean moving on from your husband, too?
Right now, she had no answer. It also felt too personal a question for Clement to ask.
With an uneasy smile, she said, Why did you stay in District Three?
Clement shrugged. To help out.
But your home is District Eight. Don’t they need you there?
I am of greater use here.
Laura bit her lip. Her thrumming pulse pounded in her ears. To whom?
He hesitated, then said, Stephen.
A black manifestation of equal height to Clement separated from him and stood behind him. The sight of it sent a shiver through Laura. It reminded her of Earth and its many dark alleyways, where shadows could either be a threat or turn out to be nothing. Clement’s figure shifted to the right, like a ghost peeking out from behind someone.
She shivered again. ‘And that’s your first lie.’
Clement’s eyes widened a fraction. He pulled his surprise back in and smiled. ‘You’re right. I’m here for all of you.’
His black form stayed misaligned, but didn’t shift farther than that.
Ignoring what that might mean, Laura asked, ‘What use is this skill to me, to Stephen, to District Three?’
Clement stepped closer to her, setting her heart to beat a rhythm against her ribs. He touched her arm; it sent a thrill racing through her.
Staring into her eyes, he said, ‘When the time is right, you’ll know.’
7
The first floor of the ITF office buzzed with activity. Over a dozen people manned hot desks and monitors displaying illegal chatter, sent over the interstellar wave that Bill had ordered to be deactivated. Those with a need for secrecy had found a back door circumventing the deactivation protocols.
He lingered by the entrance from the stairwell, keen not to disrupt workflow. Despite his role as Director of the ITF, this had been Laura’s domain. Her glass-walled office at the b
ack of the room sat empty as a reminder of her absence. With everyone running from monitor to monitor and a glass-walled conference room, this floor had a more relaxed vibe to it than his structured one. While Laura was off finding herself, Julie, her first in command, assumed responsibility for all. That included Ben Watson.
The dark-haired, lanky teen sat hunched over one of the monitors, separate to the shared desks. His brow creased with concentration. His eyes flicked from reading the screen to using his finger to make notes on the DPad before him. It was getting late and he was surprised the teen was still here.
Julie walked around the room, standing at the shoulders of those still dedicated to protecting this planet.
Bill caught her eye and nodded to the conference room. ‘A chat?’
Julie replied with a nod and said to the room, ‘I want the final reports for today on my desk in ten minutes. Whatever you have. I don’t care how small it is. We need to consider all conversations.’
Ben looked up at her and gave her a tight nod. His eyes flicked to Bill, then back to the screen.
Bill stepped inside the glass-walled room. Julie followed and closed the door, muting the warning beeps of new messages coming through on the chatter.
She turned around. In that split second, the blonde-haired woman reminded Bill of Laura. Although her hair was shorter and her eyes blue instead of green, the similarity was enough to set Bill’s pulse pounding. He discreetly shook off his weird feeling about it.
‘Bill, any word from Laura?’ She arched her brows. ‘When is she coming back? Is she coming back?’
Julie’s directness snapped him out of his thoughts.
While he had no interest in discussing his wife’s business, Julie had a right to know where her boss was. She was also the only person to know why Laura had left.
‘No time frame, sorry.’ Eager to change the subject, he nodded to Ben, who was concentrating hard on the screen. ‘How’s he working out?’
Julie smiled and folded her arms. ‘He’s got a head for detail. He’s also eager to do more.’ Her eyes flicked over to the boy. ‘I’m not sure monitoring the Wave is testing his abilities all that much. It’s pretty basic stuff, really. The real skill is finding chatter of use. But things have been quiet, as you know.’
Chatter had dried up over the last three weeks, coinciding with the Elite’s attack on District Three. But Bill suspected it had more to do with Harvey’s preoccupation with the GS humans than the attack. He’d always suspected the man had a more prominent role than he let on.
‘Actually, I want to involve him in more field work. Without Laura here, I’m a person down out there.’
Julie considered it, then nodded. ‘Try him out. You know him better than I do. From my dealings with him, he’s a sponge when it comes to learning new things.’ She paused, raking her eyes over Bill. ‘How are you doing with Laura being gone?’
Bill hadn’t been able to sleep without her. He’d not only lost his wife, but also his best friend.
‘Fine.’
Julie surprised him by touching his arm. ‘If you ever want to talk, you know where I am.’ The move shocked him. He stared down at her hand on him. Julie snatched it back, looking embarrassed. ‘I mean, I’ve been through something similar. I left my husband on Earth to come here.’
Bill knew nothing about Julie other than she was a loyal worker. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
She nodded fast, lips pinched hard. ‘He wanted to fight to save Earth. I wanted a new life here.’ She shrugged, her eyes glassy. ‘It happens. People grow apart; they want different things. So I know what you’re going through. That’s all I’m saying.’
The comparison between their lives gave Bill no comfort. What had happened to him wasn’t the same at all. He and Laura weren’t finished. She just needed time. They’d been through too much together to let it all go.
Julie’s words sounded too much like an offer of condolence after Laura had died. He didn’t like it.
In a clipped tone, he said, ‘Thanks for the offer. I’ll think about it.’ He walked past her to the door. ‘It’s getting late. I’ll take Ben home.’
Julie managed a thin smile. ‘Of course. We should all be heading home.’
He left the room and looked ahead, needing to leave all thoughts of Laura behind. These days, to work was a struggle.
He stopped at Ben’s desk. The teenager looked up sharply. ‘Oh, hi. I thought you were Julie.’
Bill glanced at his DPad, filled with notes about certain usernames, the times they logged on and off, and if there were any patterns.
He nodded at the notes. ‘Anything?’
Ben’s mouth turned down. ‘It’s like watching paint dry.’
Bill slapped the teen on the back. ‘Grab your coat. You’re coming with me.’
He strode to the stairs without waiting for Ben. Behind him he heard a chair squeaking hard and a grapple for items, then a scurrying noise. Bill took the stairs two at a time to the ground floor, calling the car as he went, and exited through the security area. Outside, the car pulled up to the kerb. He opened the main door and checked for Ben. The teen stumbled along, coat in hand, bag slung cross-ways over his body. Bill smiled at the sight. It was like looking at a younger version of himself, back when Bill had been fresh faced and innocent.
But despite his young age, Ben’s eyes held a wariness that could only come from seeing and experiencing too much. At least the tension that had been evident in the boy’s posture when he’d arrived just three weeks ago had vanished. Could giving him a purpose have helped with that?
Finding out Marcus was on Exilon 5, though, could change the boy’s happier outlook again.
‘In the front with me,’ barked Bill as he got into the driver’s seat.
Ben jumped in, his long legs not quite fitting under the plain console with its hidden steering wheel. He folded them up to fit.
‘Where are we going?’ he asked.
Bill wasn’t sure, but he needed to get to know this boy better.
He commanded the car to take a leisurely route. It started moving the second they both buckled up and drove around with no destination in mind. Beginning in the New Shorehall area, surrounded by a mix of replicated, nineteenth-century opulence and new, glass and steel, warehouse-style buildings, the car headed towards the docking station. New St James’ Park appeared on their right, plunged into deep shadow. The occasional street light offered relief. Acres of green provided a break not only from the cityscape but the barren landscape beyond New London’s city limits. In time, Bill hoped to build more parks just like it.
The car trundled past replications that represented prestige and sentimentality, not progress, green spaces that no longer existed in old London, and the docking station. The temporary structure made of lighter materials had been rebuilt using stone. It was large enough to handle the numbers Bill had expected to travel here from Earth. But the criminals’ oppressive regime on Earth for the last eight years had thwarted plans to send the passenger ships home.
Ben stared out the window. ‘The first week I got here I walked around. I tried to remember the New London I was born in, grew up in.’
‘And did you?’
Ben glanced at him and shook his head. ‘This place has changed too much.’
The car passed by another square that brought back sharp memories for Bill and his passenger.
Belgrave Square.
Ben pointed out the window at it. ‘That park I recognise.’ As automated cars ahead of them hit traffic and slowed theirs down, Ben stuck his face up to the glass. ‘You followed me there, after I met Stephen. I remember it like it happened yesterday.’
So did Bill. There would never be enough time to erase the memories of his past mistakes.
The traffic eased up and car carried on, leaving the square behind.
‘Where did you and your mother live?’
Ben leaned back in the seat, eyes forward. He pointed southwest. ‘In a complex over there some
where. But the place is gone. Torn down. A new set of apartments stands in its place.’
‘Does it make you sad to see the changes to this place?’
Ben shrugged. ‘Progress is good. I had nothing here when I left.’ He looked at Bill. ‘This life’s a clean slate, right?’
Outside the streets buzzed with nightlife. Gone were the old days of a sparse city, caught between development and completion. Gone was a society rescued from one life of despair, only to get caught between the cracks of another. No, New London was on track to become a city as great as its counterpart on Earth. An easy vibe existed in the city now that could only come from a population that was acclimatising to its surroundings.
The car drove north towards the city limits and beyond. The untouched, stony landscape outside the city showed the potential for development. But the Indigenes needed this land too. With vastly differing needs, how could both species better align their existences on this world?
New builds were expanding at a rapid pace, and more would be built by those who’d just migrated to the new planet.
People like Harvey Buchanan and Marcus Murphy.
Ben glanced at him. ‘Where are we going?’
‘Nowhere in particular. I just wanted to get to know you better, and see where you saw your future on Exilon 5.’
The teen looked out the window. ‘It helps that nobody’s after me here, so I can actually plan now.’
Bill’s stomach lurched. He had to tell him about Marcus, the criminal who had made the teen’s life a living hell on Earth. Ben’s return to Exilon 5 had been set on fast forward because of Marcus’ threats to him. There would be no keeping this secret.
‘Stop here,’ said Bill to the automated program.
The car slowed down before grinding to a sudden halt. They were a few miles out from the city limits in a stretch of land with no obvious markers. Only the light from the blue double moons guided them out this far. They weren’t even close to the location of the GS humans’ caves, still occupied by the Conditioned who had not interfered with District Three business.
The interior cabin closed in on him suddenly and made his stomach dance. Bill needed out before he threw up inside the car.
